Fic: Uncharted Territories, NC-17, McCoy/Chapel, Chapter Fourteen
Title: Uncharted Territories
Rating: NC-17
Author: fringedweller
Pairing: McCoy/Chapel
Beta: The amazing seren_ccd
Warnings: Sex and violence, but only for the deserving.
Word Count: 50000
Disclaimer: Nothing recognisable is mine, and trust me, I'm making nothing from this!
Notes: Written for het_bigbang.
He was on the bridge again. This was the fourth duty shift in a row that he’d found himself leaving his office to go and stand next to Jim on the bridge and watch the stars go sailing past. It wasn’t as if he was abandoning his post, he reasoned to himself. Sickbay was running just fine, his staff didn’t need babysitting. His paperwork was up to date. He couldn’t move any further on his official research into Khan’s blood since Starfleet Medical had impounded all the samples he had taken and kidnapped Sickbay’s tribble. That had caused a lot of muttering amongst the staff, who had liked the ridiculous ball of fluff. He was still in trouble with some of the nurses for using it to test the treatment for Jim.
Christine wouldn’t have seen it like that though. She’d have seen the necessity of his actions, even if she did like the tribble. Hell, she’d probably have seen the link between the tribble and Jim’s situation before he had, and she’d have been able to…. Well. It was no point thinking about what she would have done. She wasn’t here anymore, and that was all there was to it. Best forget about her, he told himself, like she had told him to do.
He sighed. That was never going to happen.
Of course, his unofficial research into Khan’s blood was still moving ahead, as he had “accidentally” forgotten to hand over some vials of blood after they were “mislabelled” and therefore not destroyed with the rest of his work. That should have made him feel guilty, he knew; lying to a superior officer and disobeying direct orders were court martial offenses and could mean he’d be holed up in a brig somewhere unpleasant for a few years. However, he’d saved his best friend’s life and who knew how many other lives could be saved if Starfleet Medical got that massive stick out of its collective ass…He’d just have to keep on working in secret for now.
Christine would have done exactly the same thing, he thought, straying back to the impossible blonde. And she’d have smiled to the idiot from Medical as he vaporised the official samples too.
He grinned to himself, enjoying the mental scene.
“What’s got you grinning, Bones?” Jim said slyly, interrupting him.
McCoy was jerked back to the present and away from thoughts of the past. He focused on the bridge, the ever-present chirrups from the control panels and the quiet buzz of the bridge crew as they went about their business.
“Thinking about a certain blonde?” Jim pressed, thankfully dropping his voice so nobody but McCoy could hear him.
“What?” McCoy blustered, but relaxed as Jim gestured none too subtly towards Carol Marcus, who was peering over a data readout with Spock.
“No,” McCoy said shortly.
“Those steady hands get shot down, huh?” Jim commiserated, but an evil look of glee present in his eyes.
“No!” McCoy all but shouted, raising a few eyebrows from the crew around him. “No,” he continued at a much quieter tone.”No, I didn’t get shot down, as I didn’t make a move because I’m not interested.”
“Really,” Jim said, clearly not believing him for a minute. “Because I would have thought you’d have been very interested. You have a type.”
“I do not have a type,” McCoy sighed.
“Tall, blonde, blue eyes, no-nonsense, very clever…ringing any bells?”
“I’m sorry Jim, but that’s not how I see our relationship developing,” McCoy said, eyes rolling. “And you’re stuffed full of nonsense.”
“Ha ha,” Jim replied, sticking determinedly to his guns. “You know who I mean.”
“I’m not sure I do,” McCoy ground out, playing his obstinate doctor routine to the last.
“I mean,” Jim started, but was cut off by a loud shout from Uhura.
“Distress call detected, captain!”
“On screen, lieutenant,” Jim replied, the banter with McCoy dropped immediately as he focused on the large viewscreen in front of him.
“My God, Christine,” McCoy blurted as a dishevelled, bleeding, soot-stained Christine Chapel appeared in front of him.
“If anyone is receiving this, this is an emergency distress call from the Federation settlement on Lintallia in the Outer Territories. We have been attacked by Romulan warbirds. We have no defences and the civilian population is in hiding. Repeat, this the Federation settlement of Lintallia requesting medical aid. There are children…”
The rest of the message was a burst of static, and then Christine disappeared from the screen.
“Get her back!” ordered Kirk.
Uhura shook her head. “That was an automated message captain, sent six hours ago. We’ve only just reached the limit of their broadcast beacon.”
“Chekov, set course for Lintallia, warp eight,” Kirk ordered. “Spock, scan for Romulan activity. McCoy, get ready for incoming casualties.”
The bridge hustled to get ready for their new, unexpected mission. As McCoy ran for the turbolift he heard Jim order Carol Marcus to prepare a report on the settlement’s layout and defensive capability and Spock begin the ultimately futile process of trying to convince Jim that he shouldn’t lead the landing party himself. He began issuing orders himself as soon as he burst through the door of Sickbay, putting into plan one of the many scenarios his staff had been drilling on ever since the academy. As he signed off on equipment requisitions and oversaw medical kits being hastily assembled for beam down, he thought of Christine, battered and bruised but alive.
Alive six hours ago, he reminded himself grimly. All she had to do was hang on for just a little bit longer.
Rating: NC-17
Author: fringedweller
Pairing: McCoy/Chapel
Beta: The amazing seren_ccd
Warnings: Sex and violence, but only for the deserving.
Word Count: 50000
Disclaimer: Nothing recognisable is mine, and trust me, I'm making nothing from this!
Notes: Written for het_bigbang.
He was on the bridge again. This was the fourth duty shift in a row that he’d found himself leaving his office to go and stand next to Jim on the bridge and watch the stars go sailing past. It wasn’t as if he was abandoning his post, he reasoned to himself. Sickbay was running just fine, his staff didn’t need babysitting. His paperwork was up to date. He couldn’t move any further on his official research into Khan’s blood since Starfleet Medical had impounded all the samples he had taken and kidnapped Sickbay’s tribble. That had caused a lot of muttering amongst the staff, who had liked the ridiculous ball of fluff. He was still in trouble with some of the nurses for using it to test the treatment for Jim.
Christine wouldn’t have seen it like that though. She’d have seen the necessity of his actions, even if she did like the tribble. Hell, she’d probably have seen the link between the tribble and Jim’s situation before he had, and she’d have been able to…. Well. It was no point thinking about what she would have done. She wasn’t here anymore, and that was all there was to it. Best forget about her, he told himself, like she had told him to do.
He sighed. That was never going to happen.
Of course, his unofficial research into Khan’s blood was still moving ahead, as he had “accidentally” forgotten to hand over some vials of blood after they were “mislabelled” and therefore not destroyed with the rest of his work. That should have made him feel guilty, he knew; lying to a superior officer and disobeying direct orders were court martial offenses and could mean he’d be holed up in a brig somewhere unpleasant for a few years. However, he’d saved his best friend’s life and who knew how many other lives could be saved if Starfleet Medical got that massive stick out of its collective ass…He’d just have to keep on working in secret for now.
Christine would have done exactly the same thing, he thought, straying back to the impossible blonde. And she’d have smiled to the idiot from Medical as he vaporised the official samples too.
He grinned to himself, enjoying the mental scene.
“What’s got you grinning, Bones?” Jim said slyly, interrupting him.
McCoy was jerked back to the present and away from thoughts of the past. He focused on the bridge, the ever-present chirrups from the control panels and the quiet buzz of the bridge crew as they went about their business.
“Thinking about a certain blonde?” Jim pressed, thankfully dropping his voice so nobody but McCoy could hear him.
“What?” McCoy blustered, but relaxed as Jim gestured none too subtly towards Carol Marcus, who was peering over a data readout with Spock.
“No,” McCoy said shortly.
“Those steady hands get shot down, huh?” Jim commiserated, but an evil look of glee present in his eyes.
“No!” McCoy all but shouted, raising a few eyebrows from the crew around him. “No,” he continued at a much quieter tone.”No, I didn’t get shot down, as I didn’t make a move because I’m not interested.”
“Really,” Jim said, clearly not believing him for a minute. “Because I would have thought you’d have been very interested. You have a type.”
“I do not have a type,” McCoy sighed.
“Tall, blonde, blue eyes, no-nonsense, very clever…ringing any bells?”
“I’m sorry Jim, but that’s not how I see our relationship developing,” McCoy said, eyes rolling. “And you’re stuffed full of nonsense.”
“Ha ha,” Jim replied, sticking determinedly to his guns. “You know who I mean.”
“I’m not sure I do,” McCoy ground out, playing his obstinate doctor routine to the last.
“I mean,” Jim started, but was cut off by a loud shout from Uhura.
“Distress call detected, captain!”
“On screen, lieutenant,” Jim replied, the banter with McCoy dropped immediately as he focused on the large viewscreen in front of him.
“My God, Christine,” McCoy blurted as a dishevelled, bleeding, soot-stained Christine Chapel appeared in front of him.
“If anyone is receiving this, this is an emergency distress call from the Federation settlement on Lintallia in the Outer Territories. We have been attacked by Romulan warbirds. We have no defences and the civilian population is in hiding. Repeat, this the Federation settlement of Lintallia requesting medical aid. There are children…”
The rest of the message was a burst of static, and then Christine disappeared from the screen.
“Get her back!” ordered Kirk.
Uhura shook her head. “That was an automated message captain, sent six hours ago. We’ve only just reached the limit of their broadcast beacon.”
“Chekov, set course for Lintallia, warp eight,” Kirk ordered. “Spock, scan for Romulan activity. McCoy, get ready for incoming casualties.”
The bridge hustled to get ready for their new, unexpected mission. As McCoy ran for the turbolift he heard Jim order Carol Marcus to prepare a report on the settlement’s layout and defensive capability and Spock begin the ultimately futile process of trying to convince Jim that he shouldn’t lead the landing party himself. He began issuing orders himself as soon as he burst through the door of Sickbay, putting into plan one of the many scenarios his staff had been drilling on ever since the academy. As he signed off on equipment requisitions and oversaw medical kits being hastily assembled for beam down, he thought of Christine, battered and bruised but alive.
Alive six hours ago, he reminded himself grimly. All she had to do was hang on for just a little bit longer.