You could travel the world, but nothing comes close to the Golden Coast... [Bones, Spock, Jim]

[dctr_mccoy]

The previous day had been long and emotional - a wedding, a party, then getting taken rough against a wall by Jim before collapsing into a deep, coma like sleep. Bones hadn't felt anything change, didn't notice when the ship passed though some temporal disturbanceThe next morning Bones began sliding out of his slumber, reaching out to spoon himself

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[cso_spock]

His sleep had been less restive and smooth than usual; his usual sleeping sprawl curled in, and several times he reached out for Nyota, and sometimes she was there and sometimes she wasn't. Maybe it was the chocolate.

His fingers curled around soft sheets. He felt heat pressing up against his back, but it didn't feel like Nyota at all--the mattress dipped more, the mass felt more solid against him. He had experienced dreams like this before. Spock pulled away to sprawl on the remainder of the mattress (so big...?), sleepy but still uncertain, wondering if the hallucination would pass. Maybe there were other things in the chocolate cake. Maybe that was why Sybok had...

His arm was wedged between his stomach and the mattress, his elbow pressed his lower ribs, and his heart. He felt nothing.

Spock sat up all at once, breathing hard, pressing his hand to the side (over a grey shirt he had not been wearing the previous night). No beat. He tried willing it to beat but nothing happened, his breathing just got quicker and shallower and when had panic and fear been so close to the surface? What kind of bedsheets were these? And a lamp - with wires? - and his legs were tangled in sheets and since when did he wear these kind of pants to bed?

And then he looked over to the mass that had been pressing against him, and there was "Leonard?" He didn't mean to actually say it, and certainly not like that, panicked with a dash of honest surprise, and he reached over to touch his wrist to check if it was really him and not a hallucination, and all he felt was the slight warmth (warmth!) of his skin.

He jerked his hand back as if he had been scalded, shifted back, and saw the ray of sunshine from the window before he tumbled off the bed to the floor.

[dctr_mccoy]

Utterly bizarre.

Bones knew it was him, thank fuck Spock had recognized him, called him by name. But now he was on the floor, and Bones was sitting in this bed, in someone else's clothes. And Spock, he was dressed (or half-dressed) in the same strange old clothes he was, crumpled and wrinkled from sleeping in them.

He held out a hand to help Spock up, and that's when he noticed it - Spock's ears were human! "Um, what happened to us?" he asked, a shaking hand reaching to touch the decidedly rounded ear. The sound of his own voice comforted him - at least he still sounded like himself. "Are you okay?"

Something was wrong, very, very wrong... "Jim?" he called out, wondering where the hell Jim was.

[cso_spock]

His grip was weak. He felt weak, pulling himself up to stand, hand tight over Leonard's. But he still couldn't feel any thoughts, no pleasant hum of a bond though the bond itself was mostly okay. But something was missing, felt missing.

Spock looked around, and swallowed once. His throat felt dry. "This room does not appear large enough for three people." He strained his eyes, thinking everything was blurry simply because it was morning, but... "Leonard, I cannot see properly. Neither is my heart beating where it should be, though I can feel something with similar properties." He raised his other hand to touch his hair, his ears, "Someone has cut my hair."

[dctr_mccoy]

"Where the fuck is this room," he asked, letting go of Spock long enough to check out the rest of the room, calling out for Jim again. Why would they be apart? Who had taken him and Spock, and why?

Spock - someone had given him a haircut, so very short. He looked closely at Spock's face, into his eyes, they looked the same, but he couldn't tell more, not without his medical kit, no where to be found. Taking one of Spock's hands, he lifted it carefully to Spock's ear. "A lot more than your hair's different."

And where the fuck where they? Striding over to the curtain, Bones winced as bright light flooded the room when he opened the curtains. Then his heart stopped, maybe the same way Spock's heart had stopped, as he looked out the window to the bustling street below.



"Shit." Looking back at Spock, Bones looked worried. "I don't understand."

[cso_spock]

He did not like these rounded ears. They were attractive on others, yes, but not on him. Everything sounded dull and muffled, and they probably contributed to that.

Spock stepped over to Leonard, bumping into the bed along the way to get to his side and look out across the view--but, of course, he couldn't actually see anything, no matter how much he squinted.

"Perhaps there is something in the room that may provide more information?" he suggested. Normally he'd search for it himself, but, considering the circumstances...

[dctr_mccoy]

It was hard to tear his eyes away from the window. "Those cars," he murmured to himself, "they're antiques. How... why?" Spock was at his back, next to him, asking him questions. Shit, Bones was hoping that Spock would have some fucking answers for all this.

"Look at the room," he repeated, tearing his eyes away from the city scape below. Then he felt something mechanical kick on, and the air in the room became cooler. The room, the room... There was a suitcase, antique as well, but it didn't look old. Nothing here looked old, and where ever the hell they were it was loud outside. Bags, clothes strewn around. Bones caught glimpse of himself in the mirror, surprised to see his own hair was shorter, and parted on the wrong side. He lifted his hands to his face to touch, wanted to feel himself, make sure he was real when he saw it.

His hand... Bones lifted his left hand, staring at it as if he'd never seen it before. There was a tattoo on his fourth finger, a tiny heart... right next to a wedding band.

It was at this point Bones felt dizzy, and sat down.

[cso_spock]

When Leonard sat down, Spock felt a strange feeling coming through the bond, and he felt confused. Worried.

He sat down next to him on the bed, and he saw the glint of metal. He had to feel his way through the blurriness, taking Leonard's wrist in one hand before feeling along Leonard's fingers with the other. Two fingers closed around the band, rolling it slightly, feeling (as much as he could feel, with these insensitive hands) for something along the smooth metal surface.

"You do not usually wear this," An observation with an implied question.

[dctr_mccoy]

This wasn't his ring. "No, not yet..." Bones mumbled, feeling Spock's hands on his, but something was missing. Can you hear me? In your head like this? The metal was cool and felt good, right on his hand, and it hurt inside, how much he'd missed wearing this.

It was at this point Bones saw the glasses on the bedside table. On a hunch, he handed them to Spock. "Try these," he pushed them into Spock's hands, and walked away. There were other things on the table near the lamp and old telephone. Opening a worn leather wallet, Bones' eyes widened when he saw his face looking back at him on an ID card.

But it wasn't his name next to his face.

New Zealand Driver License
1. Urban
2. Karl Heinz
3. 06-07-1972

Shit. "We're in trouble."

[cso_spock]

There was no answer to Leonard's questions, because Spock didn't hear them in the first place. He fumbled with the glasses for a moment, familiarizing himself with the hinges before he slipped them on.

"Oh," The world came back into view again. He looked down at himself, and then over at Leonard, and then got up to look out the window again. Still nothing helpful. So he walked over to see what was in the wallet, and his brows narrowed. "This appears incorrect."

He turned his attention to the little notepads by the phone, something about Marriott, and... "We are in San Diego." The situation did not seem so dire, suddenly.

[dctr_mccoy]

"Apparently." Bones found himself missing the lack of telepathic communication, but that served to cement him to the fact that they were indeed in someone else's bodies. The more Bones looked at himself and Spock,the more he realized that they weren't themselves, even though they remembered them being themselves. A quick hand on Spock's chest where a human heart would be, the feel of a rhythmic thump under his hand, only added to that determination.

His eyes landed on something that looked like an simple communicator. Picking it up, he flipped it open, and frowned ever more.

July 24, 2010
9:35 am

There was a blinking envelope at the top, but Bones didn't know what that meant. His stomach dropped at the date.

Fuck. This was really bad. Showing that to Spock, Bones shook his head in disgust. "If I'm Karl Urban, it would stand to reason that the identification in your wallet would be for your actor, Quinto, I think it was."

None of which answered his most pressing question. "Where the fuck is Jim?"

[cso_spock]

It would explain the unforgiving addition of humanity, being weak and insensitive and psi-null, but the touch to his chest was quite nice (still).

"He may be afflicted with the same condition," Spock said, moving over to the table on the other side of the bed, picking up the wallet there. The usual, some colourful plastic key cards and strange pieces of green cloth with numbers and heads. Yet beside the wallet was a square pad that lit up when he pressed a depression on the bottom. It took a few experimental pokes to get past the first screen, but then a wealth of buttons popped up.

While he could read it, Spock didn't recognize half of the names - iTunes, Facebook, YouTube? But there were more universal tools: phone, mail, and calendar among them. "Leonard, this appears to be a communication device as well," he announced, poking at more buttons. "Is Jim's actor not acquainted with either of ours?"

[dctr_mccoy]

"His name's Pine, Christopher Pine." Bones pressed a few buttons on Karl's phone, but it wasn't as user-friendly as the one Spock had. After a few minutes he'd only managed to fuck up the outgoing voice mail message, so he closed it, and tossed it into his pocket. Best not to lose this, might need it to find Jim.

But Spock was making better headway. "See if you can find him." Continuing to go through Karl's things, Bones found a paper that looked like a schedule of events, a folder with pages and memos, and a lanyard with a name badge that read 'San Diego Comic Con - Karl Urban, Special Guest'. His brows furrowed as he tried to make sense of all of this. "Some sort of convention."

Maybe Jim was here too?

[cso_spock]

There were a lot of names in the contact list, and he accidentally called a few of them before he managed to poke the red button to stop it. Finally, he managed to locate 'Pine, Chris.' Curious to see if it would work, or if this was indeed the man they were looking for, Spock poked it, and then the green button.

[kirktastic]

Jim jumped despite himself when the phone went off again. He continued to stare at his reflection, almost deciding to ignore it, but something in his head told him to go look. With one last glance, he went back into the bedroom. He picked up the phone, and sucked in a breath when he saw the name. Zachary Quinto.

He hit the green button and held it up to his ear, "...hello?"

[cso_spock]

He felt elated.

Which was still wrong in the grand scheme of things, but he tried to control it as best he could. His heart beat faster (though still sluggish) at the center of his chest.

"Is this Christopher Pine," he asked, "or James Kirk?"

[kirktastic]

Jim's heart raced as he heard that voice. "Is this Quinto or Spock? Spock, please tell me that's you." But if it was Spock, that imply a whole new set of problems.