Vulcan Fever

because no one can resist Pon Farr

So, uh, I got this car...
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 It was a gift. It was also filthy, and me and a friend have been putting several hours into cleaning the inside. I also have to learn to drive it, since this is my first car and I've never even had a learner's permit before (the consequence of living in two cities with decent public transportation.) Hopefully by this time next week it will be legal for me to drive it outside of public property while blasting Sabotage with the windows down. 

There have been other things too, such as finding work and having sex. And even more things which I won't bore you with a list of, which is a long way of saying I haven't written any more on my stories for this fandom. And I'm not sure when I will have time to do these things again. I'd like to apologize to as well as thank everyone who has read my stuff, commented on it, and beta'd it, 'cuz there was a lot of stuff I didn't finish. :')

I'll still be here, from time to time, tho--I'm not shy on reading other people's fic, especially this awesome Rome!AU I found where Kirk is a centurion and Spock is a sex slave. (Mmm, arm guards.) And, if you're finding this space for the first time, you can read the things I DID finish:


* It's Cold In Space!


* Nurse Chapel's Education

* Coffee & Tea

* Lessons

I also wrote an (unbeta'd) fic for this prompt on the st_xi_kink meme: Can we get a fic where aliens board the enterprise, seal off the bridge, and strap Spock naked to the captain's chair. They put his legs over the armrests and mock his penis, cuz it's retractable and weird looking, and he cries. They could rape him, or they could just fondle him before he's rescued. Enjoy. ETA: This fic has now been reposted minus some rather embarrassing spelling errors. Just scroll down past all the misplaced comments to read parts 3-5.

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Title: It's Cold in Space!



 Rating: PG-13 
SummaryFrom this prompt on the st_xi_kink  meme: "I just can't get the image of chekov swimming in wearing Bones' old academy sweatshirt out of my mind."
Pairing: Chekov/McCoy
Word count: 370
Warnings: More fluff than a replicated pillow.
Disclaimer: Paramount is watching us masturbate.  

Bones is just awake enough to grumble as the kid crawls over him to get out of bed. Chekov told him he had gamma shift, but *he* sure as hell doesn't, and he pulls the pillow over his head as Chekov turns on the light and stumbles about the room finding his clothes and hopping on one foot to pull on his boots.

Then he feels the bed depress slightly by his head, and a delicate hand pulls up the pillow just enough so that Bones can see Chekov is kneeling with his chin on the bed like a puppy.

"Leo," says Pasha, "the fucking was nice but now that it is over I am cold."

"Cold?" Bones pushes the pillow aside. "You sick?"

"Nooo, it's just early." Chekov wraps his arms around himself and pretends to shiver. "I vould get back in bed with *you*, but I have gamma shift vith Sulu."

Bones gives him a look. "You're from Russia, you can't be cold."

"Space is cold!" says Chekov and looks so endearing with his sleep-mussed curls that Bones hauls himself out of bed and goes over to the dresser. There is the sound of some grumbling and opening drawers and then Bones tosses something into his lap. Chekov holds up the sweatshirt to see it has STARFLEET ACADEMY printed on it, along with the year Bones graduated.

Chekov pulls it over his head and Bones grins despite himself: the kid almost vanishes into it, and the sleeves cover his hands. Chekov regards the absurdly long sleeves and says "Hmmm."

"C'mere." Bones pulls him close so he can kiss him on the temple, even as Chekov is rolling up his sleeves. He playfully pushes against Bones as the Doctor's lips wander to his collarbone. "Leo, I must go or I vill be late!"

"All right, all right." Bones releases him reluctantly. "You bring that back after your shift, y'hear?"

Chekov grins "Oh, I vill come, but I do not think you vill get this back." The sweatshirt smells of cigarettes and Leonard, and Chekov kisses his boyfriend on the lips one last time before heading off to gamma shift, pleased at the success of his ruse.

The One True Theme Song
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When miss_m_cricket  asked which of our favorite songs made us think of Trek, I immediately remembered this one. Seriously, for Spock/McCoy, there can be no others. 

Space Cowboy
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Via pretty pictures for mostly straight women

More proof that us fangirls are not just imagining things: Mr. Kelly was hot back in the day. Apparently, before he was a disgruntled doctor he was in a lot of westerns. I think this is a still from Gunfight at the OK Corral, but I'm not 100% sure about that. 

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 Title: Lessons



 Rating: PG-13 (There's no sex in this one either. Unless a Spones mindmeld is your kink, like mine is.)
Summary: Spock and McCoy are in a semi-permanent mind meld, giving each other access to one another's knowledge and skills. In this next installment, McCoy teaches Spock how to take care of patients, while Spock teaches McCoy music.
Pairing: Spock/McCoy
Word count: 1,823
Warnings: I tried to write fluff again and brought the angst instead. If fluff's more your thing, you might enjoy Coffee & Tea
Disclaimer: Paramount is watching us masturbate.  

Injuries weren't unusual on away missions. Kirk thought that this time they'd actually done fairly well: a brief spat with the natives had resulted in only one cadet getting his knee shot full of lead pellets. It was extremely painful but certainly not life-threatening, and Kirk had gotten his people back together and beamed up with a minimum of fuss. The only injury he had sustained was when he had slid down a gravel embankment and sliced most of the skin from the palm of his hand, and he headed to sickbay thinking of the reports he would be filing for Starfleet. 

When he got to sickbay things were strangely quiet. Bones should have been shouting at his orderlies as he dealt with the injured cadet, but instead Nurse Chapel was leaned up against the doorframe with the stylus of her PADD pressed gently to her lips. He was about to say something when he realized what she was focused on: the sight of the cadet lying on a biobed, at ease on a hypospray's worth of painkillers, with Spock and McCoy standing over him. Both the black head and the brunette were bent over the leg wound, but only Spock was performing the manipulations needed to tease the bits of metal from the flesh.  

It was strange to see Spock in doctor's scrubs. 

"Oh, sorry Captain--" Nurse Chapel had just noticed him, but he held up a hand to forestall her doing anything: he didn't want to interrupt the scene in front of him. 

McCoy was speaking in a hushed voice, much as one would would when witnessing a butterfly collector set something unbelievably delicate into place. "Avoid the vein...a little to the left...there have it!"

As Spock pulled the tiny bit of metal from the wound and dropped it on the tray, Kirk saw that Bones was giving him the lightest of touches on the upper arm. Strengthening the bond. 

"Now close it up and we're good to go."

"I know that as well as you, Doctor," said Spock, but there was warmth in his tone. As Spock ran the dermal regenerator around the torn and bruised flesh, setting it to rights, Kirk saw McCoy slip an arm around the Vulcan's waist. McCoy looked...happy. Kirk tried to remember the last time McCoy had looked this happy for this long and could only think of the time when that alien priestess had offered to marry him. 

"We're finished," said Spock cheerfully.

That's a new tone of voice for you, Kirk thought. 

"Thank you--" the cadet seemed briefly confused by this two-headed entity that was regarding him with identical expressions of satisfaction--"Mr. Spock."

"Go on now and get yourself a new uniform." Bones slapped the cadet lightly on the back as he slipped off the biobed. He noticed his Captain for the first time. "Oh, no, Jim, not you too."

"Just a scratch." He showed Bones the skinned palm. As McCoy went to work with the dermal regenerator, Spock took up the tray of medical instruments and used gauze to clean and dispose of. Only Kirk was facing the right way to see that after Spock set the tray down by the sink he hesitated. 

"Middle cabinet, top shelf," said McCoy without looking up. 

The missing item turned out to be soap. "Neat trick," Kirk remarked.

McCoy looked up at him with a smooth, sly grin. "Oh, we can do better than that."

Spock dried his hands, then set a chair in the middle of the room. He sat in it backwards, Kirk noticed, with his arms folded on the back of the seat. McCoy took a roll of gauze bandaging from a drawer and wound it around Spock's head in an improvised blindfold. 

"There now, Jim, you stand over there behind Spock." The Doctor himself went and sat on the vacated biobed.

Kirk went to stand by the sink. He spread his hands in a What now? gesture. 

McCoy shrugged. "Do something."


"Pick something up."

Kirk did so.

"Tweezers," said Spock, and proceeded to name each item as Kirk picked them up. "A cotton ball. Scalpel. Robert Crater's Study of Ancient Vaccines, disk two. " There was no way he could see what was happening...except that McCoy was sitting there grinning, watching every move Kirk made.

"Vulcan ears," said Kirk dismissively. Somehow he wanted them to be wrong, to show this whole thing up as some kind of elaborate trick the two of them were playing after a whole week with no insults and no arguments and absolutely no remarks about green blooded hobgoblins. Or perhaps it was just because McCoy looked so goddamn smug.

Kirk took out his PADD and called up a document. "Read that, but don't say anything aloud."

McCoy had hardly glanced at the PADD when Spock began reciting, "'Four score and seven years ago...'"

But that was one of his favorites, of course Spock would know that. Kirk changed it to the latest course changes, then to Terran news and Spock recited the baseball scores flawlessly, plucking the words from McCoy's mind as fast as he could run his eyes over them. Finally Kirk got frustrated enough that he opened a document he knew Spock had never read: a fembot fantasy special.

"Captain," said Spock, "I refuse to recite pornography in Nurse Chapel's presence."

"Oh, don't mind me, gentlemen," said Chapel. The other two men had forgotten about her until now. She moved away from the doorway, skirting carefully around the seated Vulcan, and began to shut down the biobed that McCoy was sitting on, turning off panels and folding cords. 

Kirk grinned and nudged the doctor's thigh. "Just a paragraph," he said. "It's not so awful." 

After three years in deep space and meeting all kinds of creatures, Kirk had seen and heard some very strange things. But none were quite as strange as listening to Spock's deep voice talking about voyeurs and clone girls and lust:

Don’t get up.' Meg said softly. 'We want to put on a show for you.'

"Meg laughed. Her laugh was so close… close to the laugh that came from the same mouth so long ago. It stung a little in my chest, but I knew that unlike k8 Meg loved me.

"The two identical girls kissed. Pouting lips on pouting lips. There were interesting things about the two of them, like how rough they seemed to be with each other. I asked Meg about it once and she explained that they knew each other’s limits so well that it was easy to be ro--"

Chapel slipped a hand over McCoy's eyes, and Spock's voice cut off as abruptly a tape being shut off.  "That's enough," she said quietly. If it were anyone less professional, Kirk thought, her eyes would have been full of tears. 


* * *

The mess hall doubled as a rec room during off hours. This sometimes resulted in entertainment for the rest of the crew, and tonight was no exception. Almost the entire bridge was finding excuses to linger over dessert or to get another coffee, because Spock was teaching Bones how to play the Vulcan lyre.

Rand was sitting next to Kirk. She leaned her head towards him and said, "Those two."

"Yeah," said Kirk, "who would have thought?" 

Spock was standing behind the Doctor, his long fingers lined up with the surgeon's as he demonstrated the proper placement, murmuring advice in his ear. Bones, though to Kirk's knowledge he had never picked up an instrument in his life, was taking on a very competent stance.

"It's the bond," said Rand, "isn't it? He knows it because Spock knows it, and now all they have to do is show the muscles..." She trailed off, shaking her head at the implications. Kirk glanced farther down the table: Chekov looked enraptured, Sulu bored. 

"I wouldn't do that," said Sulu loudly. "Not if you paid me."

Chekov looked disappointed in this opinion, and Kirk stored that knowledge away for later when he asked Uhura about crew gossip. "But, Mr. Sulu, it is rather romantic, is it not?"

Sulu snorted. "I don't know if feeling everything someone else feels is what I'd call romantic. If Doctor McCoy goes on a two-day bender, will Spock feel it?"

"I don't know, Ensign," said Kirk with just enough edge to warn Sulu that it was perhaps not in his best interest to go on about his superior's vices. Spock had explained that the difference wasn't so much in kind as in degree: with a full bond you felt all things another person was feeling, down to the heartbeat and respiration. He thought, This way they're still two separate people. 

"Oh, God, that vould be horrible!" said Chekov. "Vat if you got the stomach flu?"

"Or colic," said Sulu, which started off a spate of sophomoric giggling between them. 

Rand smacked Sulu on the back of the head. "Hush, you two." What had begun as the plinking of a scale was becoming a louder, and more confident series of notes: McCoy was moving into the opening bars of a song. Kirk thought that perhaps it was a Terran melody, but the Vulcan lyre gave them such an odd, vibrato quality, and the notes were so widely spaced, he couldn't be sure.

Then there was a hush in the mess hall. Spock had begun to sing. 

In Peking
There is a son who
Is much greater
Than you want to be...

His voice was not the best, but each word was clear despite the low tone, and of course he had perfect pitch. McCoy wasn't even looking at the strings any more: every particle of his attention was focused on the First Officer, and each note fell exactly into place. 

It was that focus, Kirk reflected, that they both had for one another, so complete that Kirk thought a bomb could go off behind them without it damaging their perfect calm. It was what he had sensed in sickbay earlier, how they were more wrapped up in each other than in the patient before them. Once again, he found himself wondering if such closeness was a good thing, if it was even healthy...

The song turned out to be a bit of nonsense, though a strangely haunting one. Kirk led the applause that followed, which seemed to startle them both, and Bones flushed slightly. Spock gave a little bow, and just for a moment--or did Kirk imagine it?--his eyes lingered on those of his captain.  

Admit it, Kirk thought to himself, you're jealous



The "fembot fantasy special" is from an original piece of erotica by
Jack Stratton called "The Long Run". He posts everything under a CC License, so I didn't think he'd mind if I filched a paragraph for my own uses. 

The song is "Peking Saint", as sung by Cat Power. 

Please, people, make this happen
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 Some girls want to make out with a dude in the backseat of his Corvette.

I just want a dude with his own personal spaceship. 

But not just any spaceship, mind you. It has to be the Jellyfish

Now, you might be saying to yourself, "i_msoashamed  is a halfway decent writer. Why doesn't she just bang it out herself?" 

One word: accents.

I can't do accents. Doing Bones is hard enough, and we're both from Southern states! (Parents left when I was only a year old, and worked hard to make sure I spoke proper English thereafter. As a result I've been told I don't have any accent at all, though I speak with a "slight up and down quality".) A little while ago I got a rough draft back from a beta and realized that, instead of the usual "dammit"s, I'd made him say "bloody". Until I can consistently remember what country the Doctor is from, I ain't touching Scotty's brogue with a ten foot pole. 

Hey, my friend said to me over IM the other day, if you don't know what an accent should sound like, don't do it. First rule of fanfic.

i_msoashamed : This seriously limits my pairings, tho. They all have to be native English speakers. *thinks a minute* Ok, Spock's not a native, but he just uses big words. I can do big words. 

i_msoashamed : I'd love to do more fic with jailbait Russians though...

Simple, she told me. Gag Chekov.

Problem solved! 

The Doctor Is In
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 So, I've gotten a lot of nice comments on my current icon: 

Despite the rumors, I didn't actually draw it. It's from this comic series over at trek_crack , and they kindly allowed me to turn my favorite Bones panel into an icon. If you haven't checked out their special brand of weirdness yet, you gotta get over there, stat. You'll never look at TOS the same way again. 

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Title: Coffee & Tea




Rating: PG-13 (no sex, tho it is implied)

Summary: Mind melds, even partial ones, can have interesting side effects.

Pairing: Spock/McCoy

Word count: 904

Warnings: Pure fluff.

Disclaimer: Paramount is watching us masturbate.  

Kirk thought it was unusual when Spock sat down beside him at breakfast with coffee on his tray, but didn't say anything. If his first officer had suddenly decided he wanted to partake of mild human stimulants, he wasn't going to question it.

It was when McCoy sat down across from them with a cup of Vulcan spice tea on his tray that Kirk realized this was going to be fun. But you didn't get to be the captain of a starship without being able to do three things at once, so he was able to continue talking about needed course changes while watching as, intent on him, his two best friends removed tea bags or stirred in sugar. Then, as synchronized as a pair of Olympic swimmers, his first officer and the ship's doctor picked up their respective cups and sipped from them.

Spock's eyebrow went up at the same time McCoy sputtered, "Dammit, I don't even like tea!"

"And I appear to be drinking your coffee, McCoy." 

"And you saw," said McCoy to Kirk as he blotted tea off his uniform, "and you didn't say anything!"

Kirk gave him one of those grins that had melted so many Starfleet cadets out of their uniforms and said, "I just wanted to see how long you'd go without noticing."

Bones rolled his eyes. "I suppose we should switch," he grumbled to Spock, "as long as you don't mind drinking where I've been."

"Not at all." Kirk was about to make some crack when his first officer added, "After last night, I've had my mouth in far too many other places to worry about such things."

This time it was Kirk's turn to choke on his French toast, and looking up to see Bones and Spock regarding him with identical, Do you find something amusing, Captain? expressions didn't do anything for his control. "You two!" he gasped finally when he could talk. "Oh god, you even both have the eyebrow thing going on..."

This wasn't the first time such things had happened. Yesterday Kirk had found Bones standing outside Spock's door, and was about to say something about lonely hearts when McCoy had started like he just realized where he was and started swearing. On the way to Bones' quarters they'd met Spock, coming back after realizing he'd gone to the doctor's room instead of his own.

"Y'know, this bond was supposed to be an asset," said Kirk as he speared another piece of french Toast. "But lately it's seemed like you've had more mix-ups than anything else." 

Bones shrugged. "It's only the first week, give it time." 

Spock looked as close to troubled as it was possible for him to look. "McCoy is unusually suggestible. And this is not even a full bond."

"Last time you said I was, 'An unusually strong broadcaster.'"

"That as well, else I would not have made the mistake of programming your beverage into my replicator." To make his point he picked up his coffee again and took a sip. "How do you humans manage to drink something so nerve-jangling?"

"I dunno, Spock." McCoy was giving the Vulcan a dreamy look. Kirk swore the man could change orientations at the drop of a hat: one minute he would be glaring with his hairy arms crossed across his chest, every inch the masculine ship's doctor, and the next his eyes would be half-shut and he'd be giving Spock that goofy grin that showed the slight gap in his front teeth. 

"Well," said Kirk, "at least he's quieter." A couple days ago Spock had said "Illogical" at the same time Bones had said, "Nonsense!" and the whole bridge had just stared at the doctor and the first agreeing, was the world coming to an end?

"Affirmative," said Spock, his eyes never leaving McCoy's.

Kirk moved closer to the Vulcan and said sotto voce, "But you should have never let him fuck you. Now he'll follow you around like a puppy."

Bones put a baby tomato between his teeth and bit down so it squirted in the direction of his captain. Kirk laughed and said, "All right, all right!" Bones might be picking up some new habits, but he was still Bones.

Still, Kirk reflected as they finished going through the roster and put their trays in the recycler, there was something just a little bit creepy about it. When Spock had explained to Kirk how making a semi-permanent mind meld with McCoy would be a good idea, he'd spoken of it strictly in terms of how it would be beneficial to the ship. Spock would have access to McCoy's medical knowledge, and McCoy would be able to understand how to maneuver the ship if things came to crisis. What he hadn't expected was that they'd suddenly be finishing each other's sentences, picking up each other's mannerisms, or McCoy's unprecedented ability to play the piano. 

But the biggest change of all was yet to come, just before they were about to part ways: he and Spock for the bridge, McCoy for the medbay. "Hey," said Bones, taking the Vulcan by the arm, and kissed him in front of everyone in mess hall. And Spock, instead of just standing there, kissed him right back.

Well, well, thought Kirk. Perhaps this wasn't such a bad thing after all.  

Cute Overload
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My friend girlsbooksfoodartlove heard I was having a hard-working weekend and sent me a bucketful of cute craziness:

Note the equation at the bottom showing how this idea was conceived. She told me she found it here and added that "Kirk was sold out," but "they don't need to make Chekov, he IS a kewpie".

Now, you're thinking, how could this get any better? But it can! My friends, I give you the Spock My Little Pony.

One word: BANGS!

So today I was over on the kink meme...
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 And someone wrote a prompt that asks for Spock laying an egg.

This prompt was actually filled.

Apparently when Spock lays eggs they hatch Pokemons. 

Thank you, internet. I'm done now. 


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