Title: To Err is Human
Author: Cait N.
Feedback: Yes, please! caitn at mindspring dot com
Summary: McCoy has a romantic evening
planned for Valentine's Day.
It's interesting what one mistake can lead to.
Disclaimer: Paramount owns 'em, I just
take 'em out for a spin every
now and then.
Author's Note: Written for the 11th wave of the Spock/McCoy Fest.
poem that McCoy writes is actually by Jason Paul Fox. My pea
brain couldn't come up with something that erotic.
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"To Err is Human"
by Cait N.
copyright February 2005
Dr. Leonard McCoy
leaned back in his chair and looked out his office
door, making sure he was alone in sickbay. He had another... he
the clock on the corner of his desk... seven hours, fifty-two
minutes and ten seconds left on his shift before he was off
able to treat Spock to the special Valentine's Day surprise he'd
planned. An eternity in just under eight hours.
leaned over his computer console and typed up a quick
electronic message to Spock. He wouldn't spoil the surprise, but
definitely give him something to think about. No use being the only
one distracted all day.
He opened up
the intra-ship message system and typed:
My hunka-hunka-burning love,
All day I picture curves arching under
me Dripping the sweat of
passion, the heat Equaled by no other. We quest together for the
Coolness and calmness that
Tonight I must make this image into reality. I cannot live on
images. Sustenance craves Veritability
of pleasure, not phantoms of
fever. Each moment stretches into eternity;
I long to run my hand down the spine, cup
Each buttock in turn, lick
a line of Shivers along the spine hiding behind you. Soon I will make
love to you.
me in the small auxiliary lab next to the botany lab on deck
seven at 2300 tonight.
scanned what he wrote, his finger hovering over the button
that would send the message to Spock's computer.
He jerked in surprise, and his finger pressed the screen. The
message disappeared and the notice "Message
Sent" appeared on screen.
If there'd been any changes he wanted to make, it was too late.
"I didn't mean to startle
you," Nurse Chapel said apologetically.
She stood in the doorway to McCoy's office holding a stack of padds.
sighed. Back to reality. He looked at the clock again. Only
seven hours thirty three minutes and forty-four seconds.
Captain James Kirk looked down as the padd in his hand beeped at
him. *Mail. Probably some stupid report I'm
supposed to scrutinize
carefully and comment on. *
He called up the message and read in growing amazement as the
love poem touched him in more places than his heart. He looked at the
sender and almost choked. He'd known the
doctor considered him a
close friend, but he'd just about given up on Bones ever looking at
him with more than friendship.
Well, well. Looks like my Valentine's
Day won't be spent looking at porn. He typed in a reply:
My love muffin,
been hoping for a while that you would return my affections.
Valentine's Day is the perfect time to act on our feelings.
bring the restraints, you bring the lube.
2300 tonight, the auxiliary lab next to the botany lab, deck 7. I'll
He went to press the "reply to sender" button when Yeoman Rand
bumped his arm. His hand crashed into the
padd. He looked down
quickly, and noticed the message had vanished from the screen.
"Message Sent" had taken its place.
Captain," Rand apologized.
"No harm done, Yeoman," Kirk assured her, turning off the padd.
He handed her the
padd, and turned back to the viewscreen, mind
already fast-forwarding ahead to the activities he had in mind for
He never realized that the "reply shipwide" button was right next to
the "reply to sender" button.
Uhura read the message then swiveled in her chair to glance at the
captain, then back at the message. He couldn't
be crazy enough to
actually think she'd show up. One kiss -- and that one under duress --
didn't make a relationship.
And if he got the message that she'd be
willing to heat up the sheets with him based on that...
No, she certainly
wasn't going to show. Otherwise he might not like
what she'd be tempted to with that lube.
~ * ~
read the message for the fifth time. Finally! He had
wondered if the captain would pick up on the subtle messages he'd
sending him since joining the crew. He wondered which of them
the restraints were for. He licked his lips in anticipation
~ * ~
Kevin Thomas Riley hit the delete button on the terminal, even after
message had been purged from the screen. He'd had his suspicions
that the captain buttered his bread with the wrong side
of the knife,
but to have them confirmed in such a manner! He shivered as if toxic
hands had run down his spine. Well,
there was no help for it. As much
as he liked serving on the Enterprise, he had no other choice. He
keyed in a command
and started composing a transfer request to
~ * ~
Janice Rand tore through her closet.
The perfect outfit just had to
in there! The most important night of her life called for a knock-
out, drop-dead, take-me-on-the-spot
outfit. She'd brushed her hair
out, long and loose, so the captain could run his hands through it.
She wondered if he'd
make her keep calling him "captain" or if she'd
be allowed to call him "Jim." She guessed it depended on what kind of
he was in to. That train of thought gave her an idea.
She abandoned the closet and started rifling through drawers.
second one she found what she was looking for: an old-fashioned red
leather bustier, complete with a velvet o-ring
collar and matching
She raced back to the closet, grabbed the pumps and started to
McCoy was tired. More tired than he thought he'd be. Some equipment
malfunctions had led to a day filled with
tedious testing and more
testing. Everything had finally been repaired, but it'd left him with
hardly a chance to eat
lunch, let alone see or talk to Spock. He
hadn't even had time to see if Spock responded to his Valentine's
quick shower and change, and he headed toward the lab on deck
seven. He was passing a storage locker when a hand shot out
him inside before he could react.
"Shhhh," a voice whispered in his ear, breath musky and
McCoy recovered quickly. The familiar voice and body he was pressed
tightly against were as familiar to him
as his own. "Spock! What are
"I think it's best we avoid your intended rendezvous location."
was hard to see Spock's expression in the dark closet, but McCoy
thought he saw the Vulcan's eyebrows rise in amusement.
checked your messages today, have you?"
"No." McCoy was even more puzzled. "Why?"
caressed McCoy's back in long, leisurely strokes. "I
think we're better off in here."
"Here? A cramped, smelly maintenance
closet?" McCoy felt like he had
a question mark permanently attached to his lips.
Spock leaned down and licked McCoy's
lips. "Does the location really
matter as long as we're together?"
Vulcan logic. Hard to argue with.
was whistling to himself as he headed for the lab on deck
seven. He was wearing his frictionless zebra print thong under
long, red bathrobe. If he ran into anyone along the way, he'd simply
say he'd been working out and didn't want to
walk the corridors in
sweat-soaked clothing. His handcuffs -- special made and covered with
the fur of webbits from
Alpha Centauri Prime -- were tucked snug in
his left pocket.
He opened the door to the lab and walked in, his mind
midnight pleasures he was expecting to indulge in. Anything was
better than old porn vids and his right hand.
doors swished shut behind him and he stopped dead in his tracks.
An assortment of faces swam before him: Checkov, Rand,
McGivers, and a host of others. From the looks on their faces they
were _not_ in the best of moods.
the captain stammered, hoping it was all just a bad dream and
he'd wake up any moment, cradled in the arms of his Bonesy-wonesy.