Title: Slipping Between the Cracks
Author: Cait N.
Feeback: Yes, please! caitn at mindspring dot com
Beta: Thank you Lyra and Stefania!
Paramount owns 'em, I just take 'em out for a spin every
now and then.
Summary: Spock's done something wrong? Say
it ain't so!
Author's Note: Written for the 11th wave of the Spock/McCoy Fest. My
challenge is at the end of the
- - - - - - - -
"Slipping Between the Cracks"
by Cait N.
Copyright February 2005
got to talk to him about it."
"I think it should be you," Captain James Kirk said, looking
at his CMO.
"Why me?" Doctor Leonard McCoy countered. "You're his captain."
"You're his lover!"
stepped in. "I'll do it. I can be tactful." 'Unlike you men'
was the implication.
McCoy sighed. "No, Jim's right,
I should be the one to do it." He
got up from the mess hall table and walked toward the door, muttering
under his breath,
"My fault, anyway."
~ * ~
It was two days before McCoy worked the courage up to talk to Spock
about his "problem."
Normally Bones was an outspoken, sometimes
caustic person, but when it came to his bondmate... the relationship
new and he didn't want to do or say anything to cause the
"honeymoon" to come to a crashing halt.
He chose to do
it after dinner, when Spock was somewhat relaxed.
They were sitting on the couch, Spock drinking a glass of Denebian
water and McCoy nursing a mint julep.
It's now or never, McCoy thought. He took a deep breath. "Spock?"
need to talk."
The serious tone in McCoy's voice caused Spock to put down his drink
and turn to face his t'hy'la.
"I hope you are not regretting--"
McCoy shook his head and cut Spock off. "Of course, not." He put his
hand on Spock's
knee, squeezing, reassuring. "I'm the luckiest guy in
the universe. How could I have regrets?"
Spock raised his
eyebrows and a smile played about the corners of
his mouth. "I think I could get used to flattery."
The nervousness was taking over again. "Do you
remember when we decided we'd try new things? For each other?"
remember well. Is there something more?"
Like a ship jumping to warp, an idea popped into McCoy's head: the
solution. "Actually, there is," he answered, sliding closer
to Spock and idly spelling out 'fuck me' on the Vulcan's neck
his fingers. "I'd like for you to stop wearing the thong underwear."
"Are you sure? You seemed quite... adamant...
that you wanted me to
Various images of Spock danced before McCoy's eyes: Spock on the
at his butt; Spock in the mess hall, picking at his
butt; Spock on the transporter padd, ready to beam down to a planet...
his butt. Clearly the thong was _not_ working out.
"I'm sure," McCoy said, nodding. "I'd like for you to try something
if you don't mind."
Spock had warmed under his lover's touch, especially when he figured
out what McCoy was spelling.
"What would you like me to wear
instead?" His eyes twinkled as his hands reached for the waistband of
a wicked smile, McCoy leaned forward and whispered into Spock's
Write a S/Mc about one of Spock's bad habits.