M*E*S*H

NEW TOS M*E*S*H 1 [PG-13] 1/1 (S/Mc, Mc/f implied, Riley/f)

 

Title: M*E*S*H (MOBILE EMERGENCY STARFLEET HOSPITAL)

Author: Artemis (ArtemisOK@aol.com)

Series: TOS

Codes: S/Mc, Mc/f implied, Riley/f)

Rating: [PG-13] Mild S&M

Parts: 1/1

Summary:  McCoy’s past catches up to him.

Disclaimer: CBS-Paramount owns Star Trek. No infringement intended, no money being made.

Feedback: Will write for feedback

Beta:  Thank you to Janet for the beta. All mistakes are my own.

Author’s Note: If the Enterprise is real, then so was the 4077 M*A*S*H.  This is not so much a crossover as a continued timeline.  

Archiving: Spiced Peaches XX, The Spock/McCoyote’s Den and Artemys Aquiver

 

M*E*S*H (MOBILE EMERGENCY STARFLEET HOSPITAL)

 

The end credits rolled while the theme song “Transporter Blues” played; stills from the holo-drama underneath it all.  Earnest, young, Star Fleet doctors and nurses ran up and down corridors. The crew of the USS Enterprise applauded and climbed to their feet.  Rec Room Three was always crowded on Monday night, M*E*S*H night.  The show was ten years old, the uniforms were funny looking, but the drama was compelling and the characters were real, some said very real. 

 

McCoy shook his head in amazement as he slipped into his seat after the light went up.  He was there to met Spock for a game of Go.  Spock was already there.  He had the board set up and the coffee poured.

 

A couple of crewmen looked quizzically at their CMO and argued quietly. Riley was ready to go up to him, but Charters stopped him. 

 

“I wonder what that was all about.”  McCoy said taking a sip of his coffee.

 

 “They were wondering if you were the model for Doctor Duke McLeod, as am I.”  Spock replied.

 

Len choked on his coffee.  “Dammit, Spock!  That ol’ show is loosely, and I do mean loosely based on the experiences of dozens of doctors and nurses from the Hoolihan, the S. Baker, the Pierce and the McIntire.”  He set down his cup firmly, ending the line of conversation. 

 

But the Vulcan wouldn’t let it drop.  “The end credits say as much, but they do not say it that you were stationed on the hospital ship, USS John F.X. McIntire, and subsequently served aboard the M*E*S*H ship, USS Margaret Hoolihan.”  McCoy opened his mouth to interrupt, but Spock silenced him with a glance.  He ticked off items of evidence on his fingers. “You went to Duke University for medical school.  You play the guitar.  You are from Georgia and have a honey-dripping drawl and bedroom eyes.”

 

“Pshaw!” Leonard exclaimed.  “If by ‘bedroom eyes’ you mean that I need like a need a week’s sleep, yeah, but if you mean my baby-blue are mesmerizing – c’mon, Spock, you know me.”  He chuckled.

 

Spock brushed his foot against the doctor’s leg. “I do know you. Now answer the question.”

 

Leonard rubbed his chin considering his answer. “Yeah, sorta, kinda.  Duke is a composite of me, Parker and Epstein.  Ol’ Eppy’s the one with the ‘honey-dripping’ drawl and the blond curls.  What brought this on anyway?  You’ve been watching this sh.., er, show for weeks.”

 

Spock countered McCoy’s move flipping the doctor’s disk, with eyes on the board he said quietly, “Madam Suede.”

 

McCoy grinned.  “Ah, strong and supple Suede!"

 

“I thought you were not into S&M.”

 

“I’m not, not now anyways. But this was right after my divorce, and I was open to new experiences.   And, boy, was that an experience!”  Bones rubbed his hands in delight. “She was the mistress of ‘tie me up, tie you down’.  She could really bring a healthy flush to the old cheeks.” 

 

Spock raised a skeptical eyebrow.  “I fail to see what is so enthralling about restricted movement or corporal punishment.”  

 

McCoy let his hand briefly touch Spock’s. “It wasn’t punishment, it was just foreplay.”  He made a move on the board. “Tell ya what, winner’s choice.  If I win tonight I’ll give you a little demonstration of the wonders of per-suede-tion.”

 

Spock slid his piece and turned two more of McCoy’s markers.  “It is a bet.”

 

McCoy was doing well that night; Spock just couldn’t seem to concentrate.  They played to a draw. 

 

“All tied up.” Bones leered.

 

“Indeed;” the Vulcan conceded. “I leave myself in your capable hands.”

 

In his best resident to intern voice, Doctor McCoy said; “Clear up here and met me later.  I have to prepare for tonight’s procedure.”

 

It was after McCoy returned to his quarters he stopped to wonder.  //How did I win a tie?  It’s not like Spock to give in so easily. //

 

The Enterprise’s XO took care to walk at a carefully moderated pace, neither to fast nor to slow.  It would not do for anyone, especially the Captain, to realize how much he was looking forward to tonight demonstration.  He arrived at the good doctor’s door precisely five minutes after the game and ran the bell for two seconds. 

 

The door opened to Bones’ call and Spock came in.  He looked over the room.  Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary.  Doctor McCoy was seated at the table.  There were refreshments, vegetables and dip, kelp chips and a pitcher of iced tea and two glasses sitting there.  

 

Len did not stand to greet his guest, nor did he offer him a seat.    Instead he said coolly; “You may serve us both ice tea.”  Spock complied without comment.  When he placed the glass down near McCoy, the doctor grabbed his arm.  “Alright, mister, I’ve been going over that game in my mind.  I don’t believe that you played to the best of your ability. Now, you tell me, how exactly did I win in a draw?” His voice was cold as space; his eyes were like phaser beams.

 

Spock replied lightly; “I did not say that you had won the game, rather I implied that you had mastered the situation.”  He looked smug.

 

McCoy let go of Spock’s arm in disgust.  “So you threw the match.”  

 

“Yes.” He replied carefully wondering where this was going.

 

“You cheated and you lied!” Len bellowed. He rolled up his sleeves.  “I ought to tan your hide.  Drop’em!”

 

“I beg your pardon?” Spock was taken aback.

 

“Not now you don’t, but you will.  Drop’em, pants to the ground, mister.” Leonard’s voice was severe, his visage unreadable.

 

Wordlessly, the confused Vulcan replied.  His black uniform pants fell around his ankles.  He stood at attention; his penis at parade rest.

 

“Your drawers, too.”

 

“Really, doctor!”

 

“Really, mister.  Shuck’em.”  There was no brooking that tone. Spock stood half naked and vulnerable in front of his paramour.  Now as sly grinned crept across the Human’s face.  “Assume the position.”  He purred.  He patted his lap for emphasis.

 

The 6’2” Vulcan did the best he could, but he overflowed the lanky human’s lap.  Spock’s head was brushing the divider and his feet were nearly under the bunk.  His pale green ass was centered on Len’s lap, its paleness contrasted with the man’s dark pants.  Len reached across Spock’s body to steady him and with his free hand he administered the first swat.

 

It was a meaty smack that made the Earthling’s hand sting.  Vulcans, however, are made of sterner stuff.  It didn’t hurt at all much to his relief.  He gasped; because he left he ought to. 

 

Leonard swung back and spanked Spock again.  Again, it literally hurt giver more than it hurt recipient.  Len’s body began to shake.  He gently laid his hand on his partner’s gluteus maximus.

 

“This is ridiculous!” he exclaimed.  “I feel ridiculous, and you look ridiculous. I can’t go on, Shug.”  He couldn’t stop laughing.

 

“May I get up then, sir?” Spock respectfully enquired.

“Aw, knock it off, you big green bongo. Make yourself comfortable.”

 

Spock rose to his feet with his dignity still intact.  He quickly undressed and got into bed.  He patted the mattress and gave Len his best “come hither” look.

 

Len grinned.  As he shucked his clothes he muttered.  “Talk about your bedroom eyes.”

 

He climbed in beside his lover.  They kissed and Spock asked. “Were you really mad, t’hy’la?”

 

“Naw, Shug.  I was just play acting, trying to work myself up for – well, you know.”

 

Spock traced Len’s jaw with his finger.  “You were very convincing.  You could be a diplomat.”

 

“There’s no need to be insulting.” McCoy growled.

 

“Am I being naughty?” Spock teased.

 

“Ooooh very.  I think we’ll have to find a way to keep that mouth of yours busy.” 

 

“Like this?”  The Vulcan began to kiss his way down his human’s throat.  He applied pressure perfect love bites that made Leonard’s toes curl.

 

“Oh, yeah, baby.  Just like that, you naughty boy” Lucky Leonard groaned.  

 

The naughty boy flicked Len’s nipple with his tongue.  He glanced up at his through his thick bangs to ensure he was getting the desired effect.

 

Bones stopped him. “You’ve done this before haven’t you?” 

 

Spock raised himself up on one elbow.  “Last week as you recall, we were in the Arboretum….”

 

“No, I mean you’ve played Forfeit before.”

 

The Vulcan covered McCoy with his hot body pinning him to the mattress.  “You are not the only one to have ‘experiences’ in the last fifteen years.”  

 

“Do tell.”  Leonard’s eyes lit up. 

 

“A gentleman never kisses and tells.”  Spock said primly.  

 

“That’s right; you’re an officer and a gentleman.  So kiss me, Commander.”

 

He did and they did.

 

FADE TO BLACK

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