Title: Not What I Expected
Parts: 1 (1/1)
Disclaimer: Paramount owns STAR TREK ... etc and so on and so forth!
My only pay here is personal joy
Summary: A first time PWP concerning shore leave on a certain ball o
mud somewhere in the Alpha Quadrant. I prequel (of sorts) to "The Day
You Went Away"
Archiving: Cool- if you want to- please let me know.
Feedback: Yes please! All comments are welcome
Author's Note: Once again, HUGE thanks to Janet for her BETA. As
always, this one's for you, my friend!
Not What I Expected.
Two tiny figures toiled in the middle distance, slowly crossing over
a vast, green boggy countryside that was eerily reminiscent of the
//And about as damn cold, too,// Leonard McCoy, CMO of the Federation
flagship, personal friend of the great James T Kirk, highly educated
southern gent and currently one *very* pissed off camper, groused
silently to himself as he followed along behind the tall and slender
figure in front of him. He shifted the heavy pack on his shoulders
and scowled again at his apparently oblivious companion.
He knew it was totally unreasonable of him, but for some reason, he
wanted to blame Spock for this mess. Even though this had all been
Jim's suggestion. Even though it was the aforesaid Jim who arranged
to have shore leave partners drawn in random lots. Even though it was
Jim, damn him, who had forced the idea of camping onto McCoy in the
"I mean it, Bones. I want you two to go camping together." He had
been seated in McCoy's office in sickbay, one arm casually hooked
over the back of his chair as he faced his fuming CMO with amused
hazel eyes. "It's a proven form of male bonding. It *might* just help
the two of you to reach some common ground."
McCoy had tried reasoning. "It's a little difficult to enjoy common
ground with someone you have nothing in common with."
Kirk's eyes had sparkled. "Oh, I wouldn't say that you have *nothing*
in common with Spock. You are shipmates after all. You both work for
Starfleet. You both annoy the hell out of me with your constant
sniping at one another."
As reasoning had apparently failed, McCoy went for pleading. "Don't
do this to me Jim. I can try to get along better with the man, I
really can. I'll be good. I'll bite my tongue." He had turned the
full sincere blue-eyed treatment on his friend. "C'mon, Jim. Three
days *alone* in the wilderness with Mister tall dark and irritating?
I'll go insane."
Unmoved, Kirk had simply smiled at him. "You're going, Bones. You
drew Spock fair and square. There's no five star hotel on this M
class, I'm afraid. *All* of us will be roughing it."
"Oh right. Roughing it," McCoy had drawled flatly. "This from the man
who drew Lieutenant Dennara from Sciences."
Both men had stopped for a moment to envision the blond and buxom
beauty from the science department. For a brief moment, McCoy
considered the structural dynamics involved in that much under wire.
Blinking, he had returned to the present and tried one last tact.
Stubbornness. He had always had very good luck with stubbornness. He
was renowned for it.
"I ain't going." He crossed his arms and glared at the Captain.
Kirk smiled beatifically at him. "You know, I could *soooo* easily
make this an order."
//Son of a Bitch...//
And that had ended *that* conversation.
Of course, the last thing McCoy had wanted to do was actually tell
Kirk the truth, the *real* reason why he didn't want to be stuck down
here on this uninhabited planet with the Vulcan for three day and
nights. Although he was sure it would've gotten him out of the
camping trip, he *wasn't* sure that he could have lived with the
speculation that would have followed his admission
He had tried to deny it. He had tried to talk himself out of it. It
wasn't something that he had been prepared for. He had no pre-
conceived ideas about sexual preference. Love was love, it didn't
matter what shape or sex your partner was, just so long as there was
affection. But he had always been a ladies man, and how. With their
soft breasts and their rounded ankles and their wonderful smell of
soap and perfume... he had *never* expected that Spock...
He had never wanted a man before in his life. But he wanted this one,
no two ways about it. It was *something* about him. His elegance, his
intelligence maybe, the fact that he was as beautiful and aloof as a
marble statue and about as untouchable.
He didn't even *try* to tell himself that his feelings would be
reciprocated. He knew it was hopeless. So he fought with himself. He
told himself that he didn't want Spock, that he didn't even *like*
him. And out of sheer cussedness, he did the same thing to Spock.
So now, trudging alone behind the man, Leonard McCoy slid further
into his funk. He glared daggers at the strong back in front of him.
Spock seemed to have no trouble at all with either the terrain or the
heavy pack he was carrying. Even the cold didn't seem to bother him.
He was as always, single minded and driven to completing his task,
which was in this case, to finder higher or least *dryer* ground.
//Damn it! Aren't Vulcan's supposed to shut down in the cold?
Shouldn't *he* be the one with chilblains and frozen hands? Damn you
Jim, you Son of a Bitch! Damn you and your shore leave lottery. Damn
this whole miserable stinkin' freezing place and DAMMIT what the
HELL HAVE I JUST STEPPED IN??//
"Doctor?" Hearing McCoy's little cry of disgust, Spock turned and
spoke to him for the first time since they had set off across the
moor. "Are you in some difficulty?"
McCoy glared up at him, feathers and dignity in complete
tatters. "Yeah. You could say that, Spock."
An elegant eyebrow quirked briefly. "You appear to be standing up to
your waist in mud, Doctor."
"Y'know that's what I like about Vulcan's. Their God Damned powers of
Spock removed his pack and carefully approached the fuming Human,
taking care to keep to the edge of the large puddle. "This mud-bog is
quite visible, Doctor. I easily avoided it. I can only deduce from
the obvious evidence, that you were not paying attention to where you
McCoy made an obscene gesture. "Deduce *this*, Spock!"
"That remark makes no sense whatsoever." Spock said blandly.
"Yeah, well. Neither do I, a lot of the time. You gunna help me out
of here or not?"
With a strange expression on his face, Spock reached out and grabbed
the front of McCoy's tunic, easily pulling him from the mud-bog with
a sound like water draining out of a half clogged kitchen sink. He
set McCoy on his feet and looked at him critically. "You must get
into dry clothes soon, Doctor, or you may succumb to hypothermia."
McCoy's teeth were already chattering. "I noticed that. Well, as you
seem to have all the answers today, what's our best course of action?"
"The ground ahead of us is reasonably firm. I believe we should erect
our tent in this location rather than attempting to leave the moors.
You need to get dry and then ingest a hot meal." Even as he spoke
Spock picked up his heavy pack and slipped it back on.
"I'd agree with you there. It's probably about time we called a rest
break anyway," McCoy said. "We've been tromping for a fair while."
"Indeed." Spock turned to face him and once more, McCoy saw that
strange little expression flit over his comely features
again. "Following that, Leonard," Spock said slowly, his obsidian
eyes peculiarly intent. "I believe that we should copulate."
McCoy blinked. The world tilted suddenly.
Spock looked down at him and McCoy suddenly realized what that odd
expression was. The Vulcan was smiling. Only just, but it was there.
"Doctor, you seem to have fallen into the mud-bog again."
In a little tent, on a frozen misty moor, replete and warm in the
circle of his lover's arms, Leonard McCoy stared all bemused at the
low canvas ceiling and contemplated the wondrous turn his life had
"You knew all along?" he asked again.
"Yes, Leonard. I felt your attraction to me within a few hours of us
meeting." Spock let his warm hand trail down McCoy's side. "I also
sensed the conflict within you in regards to that very issue."
"You are that attuned to people?"
"No. I am attuned to the one that I am attracted to."
McCoy sighed and shook his head in amazement. "Well, I'll be damned,"
Spock leaned over him and cupped his face, his delicate fingers
running over the plains of his cheeks, touching his brow, smoothing
over his lips and neck.
The Human sighed and smiled, enjoying the touch, the higher body
temperature of his chosen one. He wondered for a moment how folks
could make the mistake of thinking that Vulcans were almost sexless
creatures. What he and Spock had just shared had been... exquisite,
to say the least.
He had not really known how to proceed. Oh, as a doctor he knew the
mechanics and the theory involved. But with no practical experience
to speak of, he had been just as happy to let Spock lead the way.
And what a teacher he had been! Their bodies had fitted together
incredibly well, and if McCoy had thought that women smelled good, he
had been totally unprepared for the heady, musky scent of a fully
aroused Vulcan. He laughed softly.
Spock pulled back and regarded him with a raised eyebrow. "May I ask
what is so amusing?"
McCoy grinned. "I was just thinkin' how I haven't come that many
times in a row since I was a teenager."
Spock gave him that beautiful half smile again. "A most gratifying
compliment, Leonard." He lay back and pulled McCoy into his arms,
arranging him comfortably over his sleekly muscled chest. "With that
thought in mind, I would suggest that we get some sleep."
"Oh?" McCoy found that he was slightly disappointed.
"Yes. Remember Leonard, we still have two more days in which to
McCoy's disappointment drained away instantly. //Oh, Lordy!//
Spock reached out and extinguished the small camping lantern. For a
long moment, they simply lay in the dark and held each other tightly,
listing to the wind outside and the closer more intimate sound of
each other's heartbeats.
"Spock?" McCoy said finally, his voice on the edge of sleep.
"I'm glad you didn't give up on me." He gave a soft chuckle. "This
camping trip certainly wasn't what I expected."
Spock lay there quietly, listing to the even breathing of his lover
as the Human drifted away into slumber. In the warm and friendly
darkness, he gathered him close and nestled his face into his soft
He gave a deep sigh of contentment and profound relief. "It was not
what I expected, either," he whispered softly.