Title:  The Wizard, the Witch and the Whirlwind

Part 6:  Somewhere that’s Green

Based on The Wizard of Oz  (1939)

Author:  Shoshana

Summary:   Spock and McCoy pay a visit to Jim Kirk at his childhood home in Riverside, Iowa.  But the trio doesn’t remain there.    

Warnings:  kinky (nonexplicit) sexplay

Pairings:  S/Mc    Dorothy/original character(s)    K/Antonia

Rating:  PG-13    

Word count:  4200  (Part 6)   

Disclaimer:   Brief dialogue quoted/adapted from The Wizard of Oz, screenplay by Noel Langley, Florence Ryerson, Edgar Allan Woolf, based on the children’s novel The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum.   I do not own The Wizard of Oz or The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.  Nor do I own Star Trek.  Not a molecule, atom, quark or vibrating string of it.

Author’s note:  The name “Frayne” means “foreign.” 

Allusion is made here to the TAS episode Yesteryear.

founder (noun, verb):  referring to changes in the structure of the foot associated with laminitis, a disease of hoofed animals involving painful inflammation of connective tissue within the hoof

Thank you to Stef for the beta.  Errors are my own.

The travelers were passing through a field of lily of the valley when Jim pointed out on the eastern horizon a cluster of spires and towers glittering like an emerald brooch in the sunlight.  

“Emerald City, at last!”  Dorothy craned her head, viewing the golden bricks stretching ahead of them.  “But I don’t understand.  The yellow brick road is going almost straight ahead.  It doesn’t lead to the city.”

For another hour they continued on the yellow brick road.  It still did not appear to lead to Emerald City.

Jim said, “Let’s cut across the plain, save some time.”

“That may not be advisable,” Spock said.  “Dorothy was instructed to follow the yellow brick road.”

“Glinda told me to follow it, to find Emerald City.  She never said I couldn’t go off.”

“The Witch has twice attacked us when we were off the road,” pointed out Spock. 

“The first time she attacked us, we were on the road,” Leonard countered.  “I agree with Jim.  What’s the logic of going far out of our way to get to our destination?  Jim’s still sore.  We should take the shorter route.”

Spock was outnumbered.  They left the yellow brick road and crossed into the low-growing white carpet of bell-shaped flowers.  That field transitioned abruptly into an expanse of larger, bowl-shaped flowers, much vaster than the bright meadows through which they had already traveled.   

Emerald City came into clearer focus as they passed through the field of red flowers.  “Emerald City is beautiful,” Dorothy said.  Impressed because the tallest structure she had seen previously was the church steeple in the town seven miles from her uncle’s farm, she added, “Its buildings are so high!” 

“Soon we can see the Wizard, and find a way back home,” Jim said.  “Hopefully getting changed back into people in the process.”

“All of that remains to be seen,” observed Spock.  “We do not know if the Wizard has the power to return us home, or change us back into our original forms.” 

“Stop being such a wet straw blanket,” Leonard said.

“Aren’t these poppies?” Jim asked.  “Different color than what I’m used to, but they remind me of home.”  He and Antonia had once hiked Antelope Valley California Poppy Reserve, its hills ablaze with orange-gold flowers.

“Poppies, but not the California poppy,” Spock said.  “These appear to be Papaver somniferum, the opium poppy.” 

“Isn’t opium in laudanum?” Dorothy asked.  “Auntie Em got upset when a law was passed a few years back that made it more difficult to buy laudanum.  She likes to have it around for when we’re sick.  She used it sometimes just to help her sleep, too.”  Dorothy yawned.  “Doc Anderson thought the law was silly.”

Leonard stopped to pluck a red blossom.  “Extracting opium from the unripe seedpods of these flowers isn’t all that difficult.  With a minimum of equipment, I could make the drug.  But this field is already in full bloom, and I wouldn’t know the safe dose for a lion.”  Leonard was aware domestic cats were sensitive to many human painkillers.  Perhaps lions were, as well.

Jim yawned.  “I’m doing OK.”

“Tired, you two?” Leonard asked.  “Spock and I are the ones who stayed awake last night.”

“Yes, Bones, you volunteered to burn the midnight oil.”

Noting Jim’s arch tone and pointed look at the oil can in Spock’s hand, Leonard and Spock exchanged sidelong looks.  Obviously, Jim had overheard Leonard’s propositions the preceding night.

Dorothy stopped.  “Where’s Toto?”  The dog usually was ambling near their feet.  “Toto!  Toto!”

Without success they searched the immediate area.  To the concern of their companions, Jim and Dorothy were noticeably and increasingly lethargic.

“Opium poppies should not have this effect,” Spock whispered to Leonard.  “I fear the Witch has enchanted the flowers.  We, however, seem to be immune.”

Using his nose, Jim was able to locate Toto, who was lying almost asleep in the tall poppies. 

Dorothy yawned.  “Hunting chipmunks last night must’ve tuckered him out.”  Dorothy swayed on her feet.  “I’m sleepy, too.” 

The girl’s legs buckled.  Leonard caught her so that she wouldn’t fall on her injured shoulder.  “Dorothy!  Not now!”  Leonard eased her to the ground next to Toto.  “It’s a spell, from the Witch!  Wake up!”

Jim’s head was hanging close to the ground.  “Hunting for Toto tired me out.  I’m going to take a catnap.”  He lowered himself to the ground and rolled over on his uninjured right side.

Spock shook the shoulder of the snoring lion. “We are approaching Emerald City.  This is not an appropriate time to rest.”  Like Dorothy, Jim was unresponsive. 

Leonard looked at the sleeping girl and lion in dismay.  “What are we going to do?  We could carry Dorothy, but Jim must weigh two hundred kilos.”

Spock was looking at the sky.  “We don’t have time to carry her anywhere.  The Witch has sent flying monkeys.”

Approaching from the western sky was a troop of winged monkeys, their batlike wings beating rhythmically.   They wore uniforms of red and black vests and caps, and traveled in groups of four.  Each group was carrying a large net. 

“My God,” said Leonard.  “Does the Witch want just Dorothy, or all of us?  There must be fifty of them.”

“Forty-eight, to be precise.”

Leonard seized his axe and Spock his spear.  The weapons proved ineffective against the aerial attack, although Spock succeeded in wounding in the leg a reddish monkey with protruding ears who was especially aggressive during the initial assault.  The monkeys, roughly the size of seven-year-old children, were surprisingly agile in the air, and their attack well-coordinated. 

Spock and Leonard, along with their unconscious companions, were soon entangled in nets.  While some monkeys wrestled Leonard and Spock to the ground, others carefully wrapped Dorothy in netting.  Their small size notwithstanding, they were powerfully muscled, and easily held down the tin man and scarecrow.  Jim they ignored, and Leonard they merely restrained, but the wounded red monkey, infuriated by the pain of his wound, led his squad in attacking Spock.  Already concerned about Dorothy’s injured arm, Leonard watched in horror as the four monkeys took turns ripping most of the straw from Spock’s torso and limbs. 

The mutilating attack on Spock caused him no pain.  He wondered if the monkeys were immune to the soporific effects of the poppies.  Noticing that they rotated time on the ground, he speculated they had a short window in which they could work effectively there.  Dorothy and Jim, after all, had not fallen asleep immediately when exposed to the poppies.  

Six monkeys took hold of the edges of the net in which Dorothy was wrapped and took flight, carrying her away.  The others followed, one monkey first snatching Toto before taking to the air.  

“They’ve gutted you!  Are you hurting?”

“I am not in pain.  But I am unable to walk or use my arms.”

It took Leonard a long time to free himself from the netting.  Loose, he immediately checked Jim.  “They don’t seem to have injured him.”  Leonard turned his attention to freeing Spock, then to repairing him.  Grabbing a large clump of hay, he thrust it into the flattened chest of the burlap overalls.  

Spock and Leonard both gasped.     

Leonard smiled lasciviously.  “You, too?”

“Fascinating.  When you place straw in me, the effect is the same as when I place oil on you.”   

Leonard picked up another handful of greenish straw.  “Darlin’, I am going to have fun stuffing you.”

Unlike their nighttime vigil, there was now no conflict between duty and pleasure, and this time, others nearby were unlikely to wake.  Spock was not only not reluctant to cooperate in this new activity, he was eager to engage in it. 

“More.  High up,” Spock panted.  Leonard was stuffing Spock’s right leg.  “I am not firm enough there.”

Finally, Spock said, “We should stop.  You have repaired me as well as you are able.”

“You sure?  Your right arm looks more filled than your left.  I should move some of the straw.”  Leonard reached toward Spock. 

“No!” Spock said, stepping away.  “My right arm is fine.  I am sufficiently repaired to be functional.” 

Leonard chuckled.  “Talk about functional – I never had that many orgasms in a row even when I was sixteen.”

“The activity was highly enjoyable for me as well.  But we need to waken Jim, and determine how to rescue Dorothy.”

Jim still could not be roused.  “You were right, Spock,” Leonard said, wearily.  “We shouldn’t have left the yellow brick road.”

“The Witch would have sent the monkeys sooner or later.  We knew she wanted Dorothy.”

They discussed what to do.  Reluctant to split up, they were equally reluctant to abandon Jim, who was far too heavy for them to move.  Soliciting help from Emerald City would probably be futile, as it was likely the enchanted poppies would have a sedating effect on anyone willing to assist them. 

“Maybe the Wizard knows how to break the spell,” Leonard suggested. 

Spock wanted to remain with Jim, in case the flying monkeys returned.  Uneasily, he recalled the Wicked Witch’s comment in the forest that Leonard was unlikely to defend himself with his axe to save his own life.  The Witch was mistaken, Spock knew; Leonard was capable of killing, in defense of himself or Jim.  He would, however, be reluctant to do so.   Hesitation would be dangerous.    

“I will remain here,” Spock said.  “You go to Emerald City.”

Leonard brushed white crystals off his arm.  “Don’t think so.  It’s starting to snow.  That’ll rust me up.”

Spock looked upwards.  “An unusual meteorological phenomenon.”

“Pretty much everything here in Oz is unusual.”

From the ground came mumbled words:  “I’m cold.”

Leonard bent down.  “Jim!  You waking up?”  The lion groaned, stirring.  “Thank goodness!”

Soon Jim was awake.  “Where’s Dorothy?” Jim asked.  The brief snow flurry had ended.

“The flying monkeys came and took her and Toto while you were all asleep,” Leonard answered.    

As they walked to Emerald City Spock described the raid to Jim in greater detail.  The friends discussed their plan to rescue Dorothy. 

The Wicked Witch of the West had abducted the girl to gain   possession of the ruby slippers Dorothy was wearing, magical shoes previously belonging to her dead sister, the Wicked Witch of the East.  Dorothy had said she was unable to remove the ruby slippers.  The three of them, Leonard especially, were haunted by the possibility the Witch would amputate the girl’s feet to claim the coveted slippers.

Spock decided to share his private speculations about the purpose of their unexpected journey to Oz.  Of his other hypothesis about Dorothy, he said nothing.  “Saving Dorothy may be more important than we realize,” Spock said.  “I believe Dorothy Gale may be my ancestor.  I think we may have been sent to Oz specifically to save her, in much the same way I had to return to Vulcan to save my seven-year-old self.”

“What makes you think that?” Jim asked.

“We know that Dorothy and Alan Lyons are interested in each other romantically.  My mother’s family has a Lyons branch.  It was the maiden name of one of my great-great-grandmothers.”

“We don’t know that Dorothy even marries Al,” Leonard said, dismissively.  “Even if she does, Lyons isn’t an unusual name.  Besides, it’s Jim, not you, who reminds Dorothy of Al.”

“The possibility that Jim is descended from Dorothy has occurred to me, as well.”

“Or maybe you’re both descended from her, and you and Jim just happen to be long-lost cousins,” Leonard said.  “The whole idea is far-fetched.  You returned to Vulcan knowingly, to save yourself.  We’re in Oz by pure accident.” 

“Or perhaps not.”

“I think I agree with Bones.  You’re playing a hunch, Spock.”

“I acknowledge my suggestion is . . . speculative.”

Jim knew better than to disregard Spock’s speculations.  He asked,

“If you are right, what are the implications if Dorothy dies?”

“The probabilities are difficult to calculate.  It is unknown if my continued existence would be protected from annihilation resulting from the death of my ancestor, the way the Guardian preserved  my existence following my death as a child on Vulcan.  It is certain I would not exist in our normal timeline.  I might not be able to return to that timeline at all, the way I was able to return to the Enterprise in 2268.  If Dorothy were to die here in Oz, I might disappear immediately.  If Dorothy is your ancestor, the factors would be similar, or perhaps even more complex, since neither you nor Peter would exist, and it is your home that was our starting point.”

Leonard rolled his eyes.  “He’s saying he doesn’t have the slightest idea what would happen.”

“No.  I said that if Dorothy is my ancestor, it is safe to assume I would no longer exist in our world, if she dies at the age of fourteen.”

The idea of Spock not existing – never existing – was threatening to Leonard.   He had forgotten Spock once before, on that second visit to the Guardian’s planet, long before they were married.  “There’s too many paradoxes involved.  If you didn’t exist, I would be dead several times over.  Jim, too.  And if we weren’t married, I might –”

“Stop arguing,” Jim said.  “We’re almost at Emerald City.  We all agree we’re going after her, whether or not she’s related to any of us.”

Soon they faced a heavy door of green wood set in a wall of green stone.  In response to Leonard’s knock a plump man with a shock of white hair and dressed in a green suit opened the upper half of the door. 

Seeing the lion, he said, “Wild carnivores aren’t welcome in Emerald City.  In fact, carnivores aren’t welcome, period.  We’re all vegetarians here.” 

The door slammed shut in their face. 

“Don’t know why being vegetarian would exclude me and Spock,” Leonard said.

Leonard knocked again.  “We wish to see the Wizard of Oz,” he said.  “Glinda said he was in Emerald City.”

“The Great Oz does not take visitors.  Glinda should know that.”  The door closed in their faces.

Leonard knocked a third time. 

“The Wicked Witch of the West has abducted our friend Dorothy Gale.”  This time Spock addressed the doorman.  “Dorothy killed the Wicked Witch of the East.  We need assistance rescuing her.”

The doorman’s eyes widened.  “The Wicked Witch of the East is dead?  And you’re friends with the one who killed her?  Why didn’t you say so?  Any friend of the enemy of our enemy is our friend!”  The door opened.   “Come in!  Come in!  But your pet lion will have to be put in a cage.”

Jim’s tail lashed.  “I would prefer not to be caged, thank you very much.  And I am not their pet.”

The white-haired man stared.  “You can talk.  You must come from the far lands across the sea, where the animals can speak.”

“No.  I came from Iowa.”

“Never heard of the place,” the man said, quickly.  “But you may come in, if you promise not to attack anyone.” 

“I won’t attack anyone.”  Jim wondered how he would manage to find a meal among a city of vegetarians.  He was now very hungry.    

The doorman, whose name was Frayne, guided them through a maze of streets.  The paving, the buildings, the carriages, the people’s clothing – all were green. 

Jim said, “Spock, you fit right in here in Emerald City. 

“I didn’t realize my eyes could distinguish this many shades of green,” Leonard said.  “Reminds me of the exterior of Peter’s house.”

“I doubt Peter’s house now exists,” Spock said.   Spock’s comment quieted Jim and Leonard.  What would await them in Riverside, if they managed to return home?  Would they be trapped in a demolished house?

The townspeople stared with curiosity at the little group.  Intimidated by Jim’s presence, many gave them a wide berth.  Frayne led them to a private room and listened to a brief account of their story.  “I will arrange for you to meet with the Council of Elders who govern Emerald City.  I am one of the Council members.  But there is someone else you should meet first.”

“Right,” said Leonard.  “The Wizard of Oz.”

Frayne’s face became a mask as expressionless as any master of kolinahr.   He said, woodenly, “No.  As I told you earlier, the Great Oz does not see guests.”  He left the room.  He soon returned with a bluebird on his shoulder.

The bird flitted to rest on Jim’s head.  “Jim!  You’re a giant cat!

Wooh, you stink!”  The bird landed on Spock’s shoulder and with his bill tugged on a bit of straw hanging loose on Spock’s neck.  “I could make a lot of nests out of you, Spock!”  He darted to Leonard’s shoulder and pecked at his chin.  “Bones!  You’re as hard as a bone, but you don’t taste like one!” 

“Pardon?” Leonard asked, confused.  

“I know your name is Leonard.  But I like ‘Bones’ better.”  The blue and chestnut bird landed on a table and hopped up and down in a flurry of excitement.  “Can we go home now?  Is it time to go home?  I miss Dori and Gaila and Peter and Glenda.”  

“Oswald?” Jim asked.   His nephew’s dog Oswald had been with them in the basement of Peter’s house when the tornado which had carried them to Oz had hit.

“Yes, me!  Oswald!  Ozzie!  Oz!  I miss my bones and my toys and my people.  And chasing my cat and my rabbits and my squirrels!  Can I go home now, please?  And be a dog again?”

“We don’t know how to get home,” Jim said.  “Or how to change back.  We’re here trying to find out how to do those things.”

“Oh.”  Oswald stopped hopping.  He drooped, dejected.  “I liked being a dog better.”

“We liked being people better,” Leonard said.

Frayne took them to a large meeting room to meet the Council of Elders, which consisted of four women and two men in addition to himself.  In many ways, the Council proved helpful.  They quickly summoned a healer, who provided unguents to treat Jim’s wounds.  The natives of Oz were of course unfamiliar with nightwing stings, but the ointments were excellent for bee stings, and provided Jim immediate relief from his lingering soreness.   The Council extended to the visitors an open invitation to explore Emerald City – Spock and Leonard without restriction, and Jim on the condition he be escorted by one of the Elders.

In vain the Council tried to dissuade the visitors from going to the mountain of the Wicked Witch of the West.  When they saw that the trio was determined, they provided a map, together with information which was both useful and alarming.  The castle was guarded by the Witch’s human Winkie soldiers, as well as by the flying monkeys.  Both groups had been enslaved many years earlier by the Witch, who had taken over their lands, and stolen the gift of speech from the monkeys.  It was rumored the Witch executed adult females and the aged and even children if her soldiers were disobedient.  It was unlikely she would hesitate to kill Dorothy.

The healer provided Leonard with plenty of the healing ointment, as well as a large supply of opium, which might prove useful sedating the castle guard.  Leonard was given instructions on how to utilize it, in either food or in smoke.  The Council also gave them sturdy rope to replace Spock’s damaged twine, boots and gloves for Leonard and Spock to assist their climb, and their choice of weapons.  Spock accepted a sword and dagger, but Leonard, perhaps remembering his experience in the gladiators’ ring years before, accepted only a smaller dagger.  “I really hope I don’t have to use this,” he said, looking at the blade with distaste before he placed it, sheathed, in his borrowed boot.

Even more surprisingly, a Councilwoman named Demelza offered Jim a meal.  “I have a pony whose condition has worsened since foundering three weeks ago,” she explained.  Jim, with a pang of remembrance, was reminded of Antonia by Demelza, a tall, elegant woman with streaks of gray in long, black hair.  “I expected to put him down later today.  Normally we do not eat our animals, but we do utilize their hides and hair when they die.  You may consume his meat . . . on one condition.”  She eyed the lion warily.  “I insist you do not kill him yourself.  I wish his suffering to be minimized.”

“That is acceptable,” Jim said.  “Thank you very much for your generosity.”  He was eager to eat, not to kill.   

Concerned that a poison might taint the meat, Leonard asked how the pony would be euthanized.  It was agreed that Spock would perform a mind meld upon the animal to render it unconscious prior to Leonard slitting its throat. 

In one vital matter, however, the Council remained uncooperative.  They refused to grant the visitors an audience with the Wizard.  Frayne and three others left the room for a brief time, “to confer with the great Oz.”  Upon returning, Demelza informed them the Wizard had agreed to meet with them later – if they returned with the broom of the Wicked Witch of the West.  

The visitors protested; retrieving the broom would make their mission far more dangerous.  Their objections were useless.  “The great Oz has spoken,” Frayne told them stonily.

Oswald announced his intention of accompanying the trio in their journey to the Witch’s mountain.  “A girl is in danger.  I miss my girls, Dori and Gaila.  I will come with you to help.”  No one argued with him; Oswald’s ability to fly would make him a useful scout.  Spock warned him that Toto was an avid hunter, and might view him as prey.

While Jim ate his meal and Oswald said goodbye to the many friends he had made in Emerald City, Spock and Leonard retired to the private room to which Frayne had taken them initially.

Leonard said, “The people here are real nice, even if their blasted Wizard is a no-show.” 

“Yes.  But I think the Council members are hiding something from us about the Wizard.”

“I got that impression, too.  Did you see the pity in the Elders’ eyes?  They don’t expect us to come back alive.”

“The people here are obviously very frightened of the Wicked Witch.  By Dorothy’s account, so are the Munchkins.”

“With damn good reason, as we’ve found out.”

Spock nodded.  “I think the Council, or perhaps the Wizard himself, is using us, hoping we can do what they cannot.  Kill, or at least disarm, their enemy.”

“We’re patsies, then?  Being sent to do their dirty work?”

“Quite possibly.  It would appear ‘the Great Oz’ is not as powerful as the Wicked Witch of the West.  We could be risking our lives to meet with someone who lacks the power either to send us home, or change us back to our normal forms.”

“We’re risking our lives, anyway, just to rescue Dorothy.  The Elders tried hard enough to talk us out of going.  As for stealing the broom . . . .”  Leonard shrugged.  “None of us, Dorothy included, want to stay here.  Hell, even Oz doesn’t want to stay in Oz.  Haven’t gotten Toto’s opinion on the subject.” 

Their minds turned to memories of other missions, other dangers. Sometimes – not often – they had had the opportunity to take the comfort of each other’s bodies before facing possible death . . . .

Leonard eyed the oilcan sitting on a table across the green room.

“Spock, how long does it take a lion to eat a pony?”

“Several hours.  An adult male can consume ninety kilos in one sitting.  I advised Jim not to overfill his stomach.  We want to set out before dark, so that we can reach the mountain well before daybreak.”  The cover of darkness, the three had agreed, would be advantageous when infiltrating the Witch’s stronghold.  Jim’s keen night vision and the full moon would have to guide them up the mountain.

“We could visit the city while Jim’s eating.  Pretty place.  Might be interesting.”

“Agreed.”

“But we don’t want me rusting up from that snow flurry in the poppy field.  Better that I be nice and limber for mountain climbing.”

“Definitely.”

“And we don’t want me creaking and squeaking when we sneak into the Witch’s castle.” 

“Definitely not.”

“So I really should get oiled up.  Just as a precaution.”

“A sensible precaution.”

Leonard approached the table.  “No need to conserve the stuff.  The supply magically replenishes itself.”

“The Wizard has agreed to see us if we succeed in retrieving the Witch’s broom.  You might not have any use for the oil later.”

Leonard picked up the can.  “I can reach all my joints and seams myself.”

“That is true.”

“Some of them are tough to reach, though.  You could get to them easier.”

“Undoubtedly.”

“So it’s logical for you to oil me.”  Leonard handed the oilcan to Spock.  “And if I’m going to have fun, it’s only logical you share the pleasure.”

Spock took the can.  “Very logical.”  He smiled at Leonard.  “Where do you wish me to start, Lenkam?”

Leonard returned the smile.  “Anywhere you want, baby.”