Fic: Spock's Vagina, 1/2 (Kirk/Spock)
Title: Spock’s Vagina
Series: Reboot
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Crack, PWP, Romance
Trope: aliensex, genderbending, naif!spock, sexpollen/spores, transporter malfunction (contains spoilers)
Relationship status: first time
Warnings: miscsquick
Word count: 18k
Summary: Spock exhibits increasingly strange behavior after a transporter malfunction and Jim wants to know why. Good thing nature has a flair for revealing the most asinine of secrets.
Notes: My attempt at subverting genderswap tropes. Also, I apparently thought my fic was getting too classy, so I have delved into crack territory. Jesus take the wheel. Beta by the always amazing cicero_drayon. Also available at AO3 in one piece.
A few seconds ago, all had been well. Jim had beamed back up to the ship with most of the landing party, having found the wayward Princess Havareh on an unpopulated mineral planet. The inhabitants of the planet Keid had refused to grant the Federation permission to mine dilithium on their planet until they located their princess, who apparently was considered a minor god there. Three parsecs, ten planet searches, and two dead crewmen later, they’d found the bitch hiding out on this planet, terrorizing the Human colonists with her terrible, shrewish personality. Spock had, of course, been the one to capture her, as he was the only one on the Enterprise not incapacitated by the blood-curdling Keidite scream. Jim had beamed up right before Spock, who had his arms clamped around the princess’s struggling lilac-colored arms, his face mildly conveying annoyance, which for him meant he was sorely tempted to just bitchslap the spoiled princess into the next quadrant.
All had gone promptly to shit seconds after Scotty started beaming up Spock and the princess. The transporter began to glow impossibly bright and then the usually mild sound of it working was replaced by what sounded like a train being beamed aboard. The medical alarm was blaring too, and Jim felt his insides go cold as he desperately looked into the blinding light of the transporter pad for his friend. The two figures seemed to flicker in and out, and it was so bright and so loud that Jim couldn't tell if Spock was screaming in agony or being tickled.
There was nothing like waiting a whole minute for a malfunctioning transporter to materialize its occupants...or what was left of them. Jim tried to push that thought away, instead focusing on the transporter controls, monitoring Spock's life signs as well as he could. Suddenly, Spock's vitals dropped steeply and Havareh's vitals completely plummeted.
"Spock!" Jim screamed, praying that Spock's Vulcan anatomy wouldn't fail him this time, would keep him alive. Jim had seen pictures of the aftermath of bad transporter accidents, mostly by Bones and his terrifying medical textbooks, always trying to immerse Jim into his own paranoia, a paranoia that was suddenly as valid as a tin-hatted 20th century man claiming aliens exist. The pictures were a horror show of limbs torn off victims, organs hideously protruding on the outside, heads set at a grotesque angle.
Finally the transporter wound down and two bodies hit the floor. Jim tore across the short distance to the pad, crashing to his knees by Spock's side and turning him over. Spock was breathing deeply, eyes wide. Jim patted him down with shaking hands, his heart trying to beat its way out of his chest. Spock's hand came up and gripped Jim's upper arm.
"I am unharmed, Captain."
Instantly, relief rushed through him. He turned his attention to Havareh, Spock's hand still warm on his arm. Bones had apparently arrived while Jim had been focusing on Spock and was now kneeling next to Havareh, shaking his head slowly.
"She's dead, Jim."
Jim felt an instant of remorse for the loss, and then cursed softly because the people of Keid were not going to be happy that they'd accidentally gotten their princess-god killed. He definitely wasn't going to be on the planet's surface when that news was delivered.
Spock shifted on the floor, and a spike of worry lit through Jim. Bones had also noticed the sharp movement and was by Spock's side before Jim could blink, running his medical tricorder over Spock's body.
"I am quite all right, doctor," Spock intoned, releasing Jim's arm and standing on his own.
"We'd better do a complete physical to be sure," Bones murmured.
"Unnecessary," Spock said.
"'Unnecessary?' Your molecules were just scrambled for breakfast!"
"Are my vital readings in any way unusual?"
"No, but-"
"Then our main priority at the moment is traveling back to Keid and resolving this unfortunate diplomatic occurrence."
"He's right, Bones," Jim said, sighing and running a hand through his hair. "I'll have to do some fast talking if I want to convince them that we're not murdering scumbags."
*
Jim turned out to be wrong about the natives hating them. Not only were they not considered murdering scumbags, the entire crew was regarded as planetary heroes. Little did the cultural experts of Starfleet know, the general Keidite population had believed for centuries that their royal family was descended from their gods and, in light of their supposed lineage, were considered immortal. The fact that Havareh was mortal brought about instant political upheaval, challenging their belief in ancient doctrine as well as in their caste system, an institution for about three quarters of the planet's population (71.36%, if you want to be Spock-specific.) The Keidites were so grateful for their new freedoms that a week-long celebration and feast was hastily put together, and the crew was invited to attend as honored guests.
Never one for turning down a prime shore leave opportunity, Jim instantly agreed and let Spock organize the leave parties. This turned out to be a bad idea, because when Jim reviewed the schedule, he himself was placed on all four of the leave rotations and Spock was not on any of them. It was Jim's first clue that something strange was going on because his gut was telling him that Spock didn't want his captain on the ship.
Jim slimmed his scheduled leave down to just the last rotation and set out to observe Spock and his increasingly erratic behavior over the next week. Spock begged off playing chess with Jim, citing that he was spending his leave in meditation and finishing some independent research. It wasn't wholly unusual of him to do this, but Spock had never avoided Jim this much, even when he'd been busier, not even when they didn't like each other.
Just as Jim was starting to be convinced that it was him that Spock was avoiding, he began to notice that Spock wasn't spending time with anyone else either. At one point Uhura had asked Jim what was wrong with Spock, but Jim had shrugged it off and said that he was in one of his "contemplative phases", though really that was shit because this was more of an "I'm-ignoring-the-entire-living-breathing-world-for-some-reason-I'm-not-saying-la-la-la" phase.
Kirk was really starting to worry when the end of the week rolled around and he was set to go on the last remaining day of shore leave. But he wasn't going alone, worrying the entire time and not enjoying being treated like a king.
Jim hit the buzzer for Spock's quarters, and Spock answered promptly, clad in his meditation robes. The neckline hung low and Jim glanced at it in appreciation.
"Come with me planetside."
Spock looked more tolerant than standoffish, so Jim felt his hopes rise. "To Vulcans, to rest is to rest, to not expend energy. I am currently resting."
"You've 'rested' for six days. Come on, you helped slay the evil dictator, you so need to get in on the worship too."
Oh no, there it was. The stony glare of cold disapproval.
"I do not revel in the fact that I was responsible for the death of another lifeform. Despite her negative disposition and the positive political revolution her death engendered, I do not wish to celebrate the loss of life."
Jim winced. "Okay, so that was an asshole thing to say. Let me rephrase what I mean; her death was an accident, but it also happened to give lot of people enlightenment and freedoms they’d been denied for centuries. You should extend a metaphorical diplomatic hand of friendship by attending their celebrations. You're not responsible."
"I should have anticipated that the Keidites have a high electrical charge in their bodies, an evolutionary result of their planet's strong magnetic field."
"Look, you may have been immune to the screams of a Keidite, but they sure as hell must have been disorienting. You weren't in your right mind, and even if you knew about the extra charge they have, it wouldn't matter because we've beamed up things that had much more electrical punch that anything they've got. You know all this, so I bet you're just trying to wiggle your way out of going. Come on, I'll even let you take a tricorder and play with the rocks and trees."
Spock's eyes seemed to light up, even if nothing else changed on his face. Jackpot.
"Perhaps I can be convinced. Do you believe that we can request a guide?"
*
Not only did they get a guide, they got a small caravan. Representatives from the four major nations of Keid all wanted to follow Jim around, and since Jim wanted to follow Spock, they wanted to follow Spock. Each representative came with his own scientist, each scientist came with his own team of researchers, and an extra half a dozen trail guides were thrown in to lead the expedition through the jungle and keep their asses from getting eaten by predators-though, with all the high-tech equipment that came with them, they were mostly there to haul supplies and recommend shortcuts. Thirty-six men for what was, essentially, a nature walk. Thirty-six men, a veritable sausage fest, and none of the sausages were even remotely hot-barring his first officer, of course.
They'd parked their floating jelly beans ("The strong magnetic field of this planet combined with the lighter pull of gravity allows them to create technology that uses those factors to propel seemingly dense objects with relative ease." "That still doesn't explain why they designed their air cars to look like jelly beans.") on the outskirts of a dense jungle an hour ago and they were now over a mile into it. Jim kept a close eye on Spock, who was alternately examining the plant life and speaking to the scientists using his professor voice, which Jim could only appreciate aurally since he didn't understand half of what they were talking about. Jim did notice, however, that Spock was lacking that thinly-veiled boyish delight he wore like a second skin when studying new things. Instead, Spock was treating this excursion like a research expedition in which he had to work quickly to find a cure or to stop some sort of disaster. It discomfited Jim because he felt like his ship was in danger, but that was ridiculous because Spock would have told him if something was up.
Jim was pulled from his confusing train of thoughts as the Keids began to trill excitedly in their native tongue. Jim's universal translator failed to translate some specifics of their words, so he figured that they were approaching a particularly awesome plant that hadn't made it into Starfleet's dictionary yet.
"Gentlemen, behold the Veiir!" said the ambassador from the nation of Tek'zs, arms waving expansively at a collection of beige plants that towered over them. They were around nine feet tall and resembled droopy mushrooms. "The lifeblood and mother of our people!"
With that odd pronouncement, one of the plants next to them spewed forth a few gallons of milky liquid onto Jim, Spock, the ambassador who had introduced the plant, and three scientists. It smelled like grass and was disconcertingly warm. Jim wiped his face off, cursing not-so diplomatically at the mess. Some kind of cloth was pressed into his hands and he instantly used it to wipe his face.
"Well that's just lovely. I guess it likes us," Jim said, trying to find his sense of good humor. That was when Jim noticed the confused murmurings with words like 'unusual', 'strange', and 'must document' hitting his ears. "What's wrong?"
The Tek'zs ambassador appeared too flummoxed to speak so, oddly, it was a guide who answered him. "The Veiir are only supposed to fertilize in the presence of an ovulating female."
"Fertilize? Ovulate?" Jim asked, his tone demanding a better, saner answer.
"The Veiir act in a symbiotic relationship with the Keid, Captain," Spock said, roughly scrubbing the towel around the nape of his neck. Spock sounded annoyed. Probably because Vulcans hated to be wet, or at least Spock hated to be wet. "These plants serve in the mating process of the Keids. The fluid released by the plant causes Keidite females to release a mating hormone that attracts males of the species."
"Great, so we were basically jizzed on," Jim surmised.
Another ambassador of a nation Jim couldn't hope to pronounce stepped forward and wiped his clean hands on the cloth Jim had tried to dry off with. Jim wrinkled his nose. "It is unusual that the Veiir released its sap when there are no females present."
"Strange," echoed a scientist, who was rubbing his hands in Spock's cloth now. Jim looked around and saw that they were all touching some of the goop like it was a great moisturizer or something.
"Okay, why are you guys rubbing your hands all in it?"
They all managed to look sheepish and it was the Tek'zs ambassador who decided to answer, cheeks dark like they were stained with grape juice. "A habit, really. If one is covered in the same sap an exposed female was covered in, the mating fever will not overcome them."
"Whoa, mating fever?" he looked over to Spock for an explanation, but Spock had gone ashen and was carefully not looking at Jim. Geez, were Vulcans that prudish?
"The hormone released by the female attracts males to them. It compels them to mate," an ambassador from Raailecti said.
Jim suddenly understood why their entire outfit was made up of men and why this plant was at once vital and kept far away from populated areas-it would be kind of awkward for all the men of a civilized society to go around blindly humping the females. A few of the scientists were examining the plant now, extracting some samples and placing them into containers. Well, at least they'd brought some entertainment to the group.
"We apologize for this strange occurrence," the Tek'zs ambassador said, and the other three ambassadors joined in on the profuse apologies. Jim waved their concern away.
"It's all right. I think my science officer and I would like a change of clothes," Jim said. Spock approached him shortly, not quite making eye contact.
"Captain, I wish to beam back up to the ship."
"But-we just got here! They'll get us a change of clothes, no problem."
"Jim," Spock said, and Jim instantly noted the title drop. "I respectfully wish to spend the rest of my leave aboard the ship. I apologize."
Jim sighed. Yeah, he could understand how having an alien plant come all over you could fuck your day up.
“That’s fine. Get cleaned up and report to the bridge. After the final ceremonies, we’ll be leaving orbit.”
“Understood, Captain.”
*
The party had been fun enough. There was an amazing firework show, made even more awesome by the high electrical current of the atmosphere, and the food was pretty good. He was even offered sex three times. He turned them all down, though, still bummed that Spock wasn’t there and realizing that he was no closer to lifting Spock’s strange mood than he was before beaming to the planet. He ended up leaving the festivities early, intent on finding Spock, batting his eyelashes, and getting some damn answers so that next time they were on leave, Jim could cavort and get laid with a free conscience.
Spock was nothing if not predictable; Jim found him in the science labs within five minutes. When he walked in, however, there was something off. A couple of the lab techs were working as per usual, but three others were staring avidly at Spock for no reason Jim could see. Maybe Spock was giving a lecture or showing them something. Jim walked up behind them.
“Something interesting going on?” he asked lightly. All three jumped, looking flushed and vaguely guilty, as if they were kids caught with their hands in a cookie jar. Spock turned at the sound of Jim’s voice, glancing at the crewmen as if he had just noticed they were there.
“Is there something you require?” Spock asked them in a terse voice, setting a vial perfunctorily into an analyzer. The three murmured something that must have equated to ‘the jig is up, let’s beat it’ and left the lab.
“Those guys weren’t bothering you, were they?” Jim asked, cutting his eyes to the door they’d escaped from.
Spock hesitated briefly before replying, “No, Captain.”
Jim didn’t really believe him, but it seemed minor enough that he let the matter slide for the time being. Well, at least until crew evaluations came up again.
“What are you working on?”
“Only one of my many recreational experiments. You would not find it of interest.”
“You know, I am more than just a pretty face.”
Spock looked sidelong at Jim, assessing. “I interpret that statement to mean that you believe I preclude you from discussion of my experiments because I hold the belief that you do not possess the mental capacity to understand them. That is clearly wrong, as I am fully aware of your mental proficiency and various scholastic accomplishments. I simply know that you have only a passing interest in chemistry and biology.”
“And you would be completely right as usual,” Jim said, smiling. He wished there was a way he could gather Spock’s sparse but genuine praises, bottle them as a sunscreen and bask all day in them. “If I’m bothering you, I can find somewhere else to be, no problem-”
“You may stay. Your presence is non-invasive.”
So Jim stayed a few minutes, perched on a stool, telling Spock all about the celebrations he’d missed while Spock quietly worked and listened. Jim didn’t mind Spock continuing with his work; he always knew that Spock hung on to his every word, as the guy was fully capable of holding up a conversation while computing complex equations in his head. It worked well for them, as Jim loved to talk his head off and Spock tolerated that tendency. Maybe more than tolerated it, since Spock seemed not to stick around and listen to just anyone blabber at him, never voluntarily engaged in small talk if he could avoid it first.
Eventually, Jim got tired of sitting still.
“Care to take a break and play some chess?” Jim asked.
“I am afraid that I must continue with my experiment tonight until it is completed. I would like to ‘check the rain’ and reschedule a game for tomorrow night.”
Jim chuckled. “It’s ‘take a rain check’, Spock.”
“As you wish. At any rate, I hope your evening is pleasant. I will plan for you to arrive in my quarters at any time after 1900 hours tomorrow night.”
Mollified, Jim said goodnight and went to bother Bones in sickbay, having already completed all his paperwork over the last week.
*
The following day they left orbit around Keid. Everything seemed to go back to normal. Jim didn’t see Spock during the day, as Spock was busy giving lectures in the science labs, but he was in his quarters when Jim swung by for a chess game that night. Spock seemed a little wrung out as he set up the board, but Jim attributed that to dealing with illogical humans asking redundant questions for hours and put it out of his mind.
That is, until he went to lunch a couple of days later.
Jim usually worked two shifts on average, given that there were no disasters occurring. In all truth, captains were never really off duty, but his work hours usually totaled up to two full shifts, one on bridge and the other attending to ship operations. His eating schedule hardly wavered; he woke at 0630, showered, dressed, and was on the bridge at 0700. A couple of hours after that, he was eating breakfast, and then he didn’t eat again until around 1700.
Today he had skipped breakfast in order to give a full briefing on the results of their last mission to Starfleet and thus was starving by mid-afternoon. Spock ate at this time with Uhura and then had his evening meal with Jim, effectively giving equal time to both friends. The fact that Jim was taking lunch today was pure serendipity, because as soon as he entered the mess hall, he knew that Spock would have later skipped dinner to avoid having Jim see what he saw now.
Uhura was absent and a group of crewmen clustered around Spock instead, all uncomfortably close. Spock was eating his lunch, seemingly oblivious to the small harem that swarmed him. Jim might have laughed at the situation, except all of the men had a glazed look in their eyes like they were slightly drugged and on the verge of doing something stupid. Jim’s eyes darted to a lieutenant’s hand reaching out and blind fury engulfed him when that hand grasped Spock’s forearm proprietarily, startling Spock enough that he dropped his fork, sending it clattering to the tray.
“What’s going on here?” Jim demanded, stalking up to the table. Spock rose from his seat, and a wave of sickness rolled over Jim when he saw how relieved Spock looked at his interruption. The men blinked at Jim, some of the dazed sheen in their eyes melting away and, as if they were waking up, they stood slowly to attention.
“Can someone explain to me why Mr. Spock is suddenly the most popular boy in school this afternoon?”
The men looked to one another for an answer, and while this just confused Jim even more, he felt a little better knowing that even they didn’t know what they were doing.
“We were just talking with Commander Spock,” Ensign Reeves said.
“Just talking,” Jim repeated, making it clear he didn’t believe that for a second. The men were silent for a while longer, and Jim didn’t know if they were struggling for an explanation or if their attention was drifting off, half of them having gone back to staring at Spock again. “Anyone care to tell me what the topic of this conversation was?”
More muddled silence. Jim fought the urge to roll his eyes.
“I’m sure you are all aware that every member of Starfleet must undergo rigorous training in crew relations. In fact, this particular crew was heavily inundated in Vulcan relation training due solely to the fact that its second in command was a Vulcan. Have I been misinformed of these facts?”
“No, sir,” the men chorused.
“Then you are well aware that each of you have grossly violated Mr. Spock’s cultural boundaries just now. I would think that my crew, which I like to think is the best in Starfleet, would not only show better respect to a commanding officer, but to a culture on the brink of extinction.”
The men shifted guiltily while Spock’s face remained perfectly blank.
“Expect a formal reprimand for each of you by first shift tomorrow. Dismissed.”
As soon as the men all but fled the scene, Jim jerked his head toward the door, and left with Spock. He headed straight for his quarters and-since Spock was highly intelligent-Spock followed Jim inside.
When the doors hissed shut, Jim spun around and said, “Spock, that was weird. I’m not blind, and you can’t ask me not to wonder why seven exemplary and disciplined officers were staring at you like you were a ribeye steak.”
“I ask you to do nothing of the sort.”
“So, you know what’s going on but you won’t tell me, is that it?”
“I do not believe that I said I knew what prompted their behavior.”
Jim was appalled. “Then is this some form of harassment? I swear to god, I will have each and every one of those officers court marshaled if that’s the case-”
“Jim,” Spock said. “I can assure you that those officers were not fully cognizant of their actions.”
“Meaning that you know what’s going on and are purposefully evading a direct answer,” Jim surmised.
“That would certainly be one interpretation.”
Spock was apparently dead set on not giving a direct answer. Jim started pacing, thinking quickly over all the details. The men were not themselves, meaning that this either this was Spock’s fault or the fault of a third party. Jim suddenly remembered the men gathered in the science labs three days ago, different from the ones at lunch today, then on the heels of that, recalled Spock’s odd behavior ever since the transporter malfunction-
“Shit,” Jim said, stilling. “You never got checked out after the transporter incident, did you?”
Spock avoided Jim’s eyes. “I am quite healthy.”
“And just how can you possibly know that? Besides, you’re well aware that unknown space pathogens crop up all the time! You’re getting a physical.”
“Captain, I would rather-”
“Commander,” Jim interrupted, face flushing in irritation. “That was an order. In fact, I’ll escort you to sickbay myself.”
Spock pursed his lips, and Jim almost wavered at the barely-concealed anger in his eyes.
“That will not be necessary. I shall report there shortly.”
When the door closed behind Spock’s stiff back, Jim sagged against his desk. If it turned out that there was nothing wrong with Spock, Jim was going to have to grovel for Spock to talk to him any time soon.
*
Jim tried to wait longer, but fifteen minutes later he was walking through the doors of sickbay, annoyed when he saw Bones slumped over in a chair; Spock had obviously not arrived yet, as Bones would have done the exam himself.
“You’re about to have a new patient,” Jim said, hopping onto a biobed next to Bones.
“Finally getting that brain surgery you obviously need?”
“Nope, my mind is beautiful and clearly underappreciated. No, your new patient is Spock, who has decided that my orders are to be taken lightly and who will thus have to have my foot surgically removed from his ass.”
“Please-don’t talk about the hobgoblin’s nether regions. You won’t need to do all that anyway; he’s being checked over by Nurse Chapel.”
Jim furrowed his eyebrows. “Is there a particular reason you’re not doing the exam?”
Bones sighed heavily, rubbing tired hands over his face. “Mostly because he requested that a female do it, and partly because I wanted to bend him over a biobed the second he walked in.”
That…was unexpected.
“Forget brain surgery; I think my ears need to be checked. Did you just imply that you want to, erm, jump his bones, Bones?”
“Of course I don’t want to, you brat-hold on a minute.” Bones jabbed a finger into Jim’s sternum. “Are you saying that you don’t feel that way?”
Jim boggled. “Is this some new fad going around the ship? Am I fashionably late to the Spock lust bus?”
“I’ve had two crewmembers come to me in confidence and request psych evals because of a sudden desire to have sex with their commanding officer. Both of these men, I might add, are happily married. I didn’t believe them at first, assumed they were either pulling my leg or were repressing some serious latent homoerotic leanings, until that overgrown elf came in and I got to experience the mindfuck for myself.”
“How in the hell is that possible?”
“Beats me. All I can do right now is avoid the bastard and patiently wait for this shift to end so I can drink my way into peaceful oblivion.”
Jim let Bones subside into miserable silence, trying to sort all this out in his mind. What the hell could make all the males on the ship suddenly want to have sex with Spock except Jim?
“I can’t imagine a transporter accident doing all this,” Jim muttered, mind still racing over possibilities.
“Neither can I. Anything else strange happen to you guys over the last few days? What all did you two do on shore leave?”
Jim gasped. “I’ve been an idiot. That plant on Keid! It spewed this stuff on us and it makes female Keidites go into heat.”
“Oh, you just happened to let that slip your mind?”
“Well, Spock’s not a girl and he’s not a Keidite, so yeah, sort of.”
“He’s not a human either, Jim! We have no idea how that plant might react to a Vulcan’s physiology. I’m going to wait for the exam results and then I think we should talk to those Keidites. I have a personal grudge against those purple bastards.”
After a short, awkward silence, Bones’ PADD beeped and he immediately began scanning the results. Something he read must have shocked the hell out of him, because his eyebrows winged up so far that they were in danger of disappearing into his hairline.
“What is it?”
“The bastard’s got a vagina.”
“A what?”
Bones whipped the PADD around, letting Jim see Spock’s chart. Sure enough, in loopy, girlish writing was written, ‘patient’s genitalia has inexplicably been rearranged due to transporter malfunction.’ Before Jim could read further, Bones went back to reading and immersing himself in the details as Jim tried to wrap his mind around the fact that Spock had been hiding a sporadic sex change for a couple of weeks now.
“As far as Nurse Chapel can see and from what Spock’s told her, the transporter flubbed with all that electrical discharge and rearranged a few molecules in that one particular area. She’s not sure, but the structure is not exactly like a human vagina, so either female Vulcans are different or, more likely, Spock’s manhood was swapped with Princess Havareh’s physical structure.”
“You’re telling me that Spock has a dead woman’s vagina?”
“It’s not her vagina, just the transporter got the atoms scrambled according to her pattern.”
“So, a dead woman’s vagina.”
“Her autopsy report showed that all her bits were intact. It just rearranged his molecules,” Bones said, growing annoyed.
“Vagina of the living dead,” Jim went on in a disbelieving voice.
“Jim-”
“Frankensnatch.”
“Damn it, stop that! At least we know the likely cause of all this and can figure out how to fix this-”
“I have been monitoring my condition sufficiently and further medical attention is not required, Doctor,” Spock said, entering the room with the least amount of grace Jim had ever seen the Vulcan possess, nearly knocking over a tray of surgical tools as he approached.
“Oh you no don’t, mister. My job is to make certain-”
Bones stopped mid-sentence, mouth falling a bit open as his eyes fell on Spock, one step away from flat-out drooling. Jim rolled his eyes and waved Spock out the door. Spock fled the scene and Bones snapped out of whatever fantasy he was in, face flushed.
“Goddamn it. I want every qualified person on this case working day and night to find a fix for this. From here on out, Spock is quarantined.”
“I’ll make sure he knows,” Jim said sympathetically, patting Bones’ shoulder. “You go take a cold shower.”
Jim rushed out the sliding doors before Bones could find something to throw at him, sobering as he walked to Spock’s quarters. His irritation that Spock had kept this pretty damn important piece of information from him for two weeks was fading and was rapidly being replaced by worry and guilt. Spock had to be feeling pretty humiliated right now, having his secret exposed to Bones and Chapel of all people. Jim would have given Spock time to cool off, but there were a million unanswered questions that needed to be addressed and his worry over Spock trumped whatever else he felt.
Jim had to wait several seconds after he buzzed for entrance to Spock’s quarters before Spock finally allowed him entrance. Spock had divested himself of his uniform and was standing at attention in his meditation robes, glaring at Jim. It was amazing how perfectly neutral Spock appeared unless you looked at his eyes, which somehow had the ability to churn like the event horizon of a black hole, sucking all available light from the room.
Jim immediately went for mercy. “I’m sorry, Spock.”
“That is quite all right, Captain.” It so wasn’t. “Nurse Chapel almost managed not to wince in sympathy when faced with my genital area. It was almost a professional exam-until I had to disrobe and explain my condition to her. Yes, it was highly refreshing to be reminded that Vulcans are not immune from the follies of existence and that her belief that I would be a perfect mate has been challenged.”
Dear god, it was like Spock’s passive aggressiveness could physically reach out and slap him across the few feet that lie between them.
“Look, I said I’m sorry. I didn’t think about the affect you were having over males and I didn’t expect Christine to be your examiner. I should’ve just bugged you until you broke down and told me instead of ordering you around.” Jim sighed and sat down in the seat across from Spock’s desk, rubbing his face tiredly. “I turn into an asshole when I’m worried and scared. Can I beg human frailty?”
Spock hesitated a few moments before moving from the center of the room to his desk, seating himself primly across from Jim. Jim chanced a look up, relieved to see that Spock looked less ready to throttle him. Again.
“You’re under quarantine until further notice,” Jim said quietly, shaping the words into a statement rather than an order. Spock nodded, obviously expecting this.
“I have researched my condition extensively and plan to turn over my findings promptly. I request that as few members of this crew know of my changed physical condition as possible.”
“McCoy knows all about confidentiality and so does Chapel. We’ll have to tell the crew about the plant and the effects its having, just so they don’t all think they’ve gone mad and they know to steer clear of you.”
“That is to be expected,” Spock agreed, nodding slightly.
“How far have you gotten in your research?”
“The results are promising. I have mapped out the genetic variances and have studied the transporter patterns of myself and Haverah. I can expect a full reversal of my molecular composition in 13.2 days.”
“Two more weeks? What about this heat business? Have you figured out a solution to that?”
Spock fidgeted. “I privately consulted with the Keidite scientists and researchers before leaving the planet and have ample material of this phenomena. In their 8,000 years of recorded existence, they have been unable to find a cure for the mating fever. Even with all their advanced technology, there is no known deterrent for this biological imperative.”
“I can’t believe this. It’s like something out of science fiction. How ridiculous is a species-wide mating drive?”
For some reason, Spock wouldn’t meet his eyes. He was probably mortified at all the randy humans crossing his path lately. Eventually Spock cleared his throat.
“It is rather fascinating to view the behavior of those suffering the madness.”
“So what have you tried? What if we get the science department to help out?”
Spock actually flushed a little, an adorable hue of pale green tingeing his cheeks.
“That will not be necessary. It is a highly private matter of a nature I am uncomfortable discussing with the crew.”
“Well, how ‘bout me? I promise I won’t tell a soul.”
“Of that I have no doubt,” Spock said, expression softening. “The results have been unsatisfactory thus far. There appears to be no way to circumvent the Keidite estrous cycle. No matter what artificial means I employ, the status remains the same.”
“‘Artificial means?’ What, you mean a hypo of heat-reducer or something?”
“Negative. The Kedites helpfully supplied me with several samples of male seminal fluid. I have manually inserted them into my body to recreate the mating process.”
Something fizzed out in Jim’s brain. Something that stopped coherent thought and sent a slow burn to his lower regions. “Is that a science-y way to tell me that you fucked yourself with a dildo?”
Spock scowled and colored more. “A crude but effective analysis of the procedure.”
Procedure indeed. Spock had masturbated with a dildo. Did Spock own a dildo already or did he have to get one from the replicator? How big was it? Had he gotten off on it? Holy shit, it happened in this very room, just past the room divide and on top of Spock’s bed with its crisp sheets and neat corners. Jim hadn’t known if Vulcans jerked off, and they still might not, but he had 100% confirmation that one Commander Spock had sexually pleasured himself at least once in his lifetime. Is that why Spock had turned down a chess game in the science lab the other day? Because he had to go back to his room and-
“Captain, are you all right?”
Jim swallowed, realizing that he’d been silent for a good while.
“I’m fine, and that’s good. I mean, it’s great that you really did try your best to relieve-resolve the situation.” Jim mentally shook himself and focused on more important issues. “But now we’ve got to worry about you and the crew’s safety. We’ve already seen the reaction to you escalate in a period of three days. Imagine what it’s going to be like on this ship in two weeks.”
“The prospect is bleak.” Spock sighed, a clear signal that he was stressed. “I will be unable to perform a number of my duties. At this point I can safely work in the science labs, provided that all male crewmembers are directed away from my path and I only interact with female crewmembers.”
“I suppose that won’t be out of the question. I mean, it would get pretty boring for you if you had to sit in your quarters for two weeks. Scotty can be the acting first officer and Chekov can help at the science station.”
“There is also a starbase approximately eight days from our current position in case there are unforeseen complications.”
“You know,” Jim said, donning a playful tone, “You could just let nature take its course. I’ve heard that Ensign Palmer had a thing for you.”
“Out of the question,” Spock said firmly, taking the edge off Jim’s mirth with his severity. “It would be immoral to engage in intercourse when one party is not aware of their actions and is unable to give their consent.”
I can give consent, Jim thought, and where the hell had that come from?
“I’d better go tell Doctor McCoy everything and make an announcement to the ship.” Jim stood and looked down at Spock in quiet consideration. “Don’t worry-everything will be fine. I’ll take care of you.”
Spock blinked. “This human tendency to ascribe feelings in carrying out one’s duty-”
“-is silly, I know. I suppose you’ll just have to suffer my illogic as you always do and try to pretend you’re not glowing on the inside.”
“Glowing, Sir?”
“You’re positively radiant, Mr. Spock.”
Jim smiled as he caught Spock’s puzzled look out of the corner of his eye as he left for his own quarters.
*
The first day was awkward but surprisingly manageable. The crewmen stayed clear of Spock and clear of mind, the only hiccup being that the range of influence had expanded and a couple of crewmen had been caught off guard at the end of corridors as Spock walked to the science labs. The ship didn’t fall apart and no one was scarred for life, so Jim counted the day as a win and was happy that his crew was taking this situation seriously and professionally.
The same couldn’t be said for their captain.
Ever since Jim had let the thought of helping Spock out with his problem cross his mind, he’d been unable to think of little else. It was almost inevitable that he would think of it in depth, being that his mind always went over every single strategy at his disposal, even one that might get him thrown out of Spock’s quarters if he even suggested it. The thing is, it was a simple, logical alternative. Spock and Jim have sex, Spock waits around like normal for two weeks, runs himself through the transporter, becomes a real boy again, and they blissfully pretend this entire series of events never occurred. Yet, if Jim was just now coming up with this plan, Spock had surely thought of it days ago when he confirmed that the Veiir jizz had made Jim immune at the same time it made Spock Vulcan cat nip.
Jim spent that first night in his quarters jerking off and trying not to think of what Spock looked like with a vagina and failing spectacularly. Jim had never thought of Spock while masturbating before. Not because of some high moral code, but for the fact that he’d honestly never imagined Spock would ever have sex with him and because they were best friends, thus why he’d also never imagined sex with Bones either. But now that the possibility existed, suddenly Jim couldn’t keep his hands off himself-which was a great thing, because that kept them off of Spock, who spent the evening in Jim’s quarters that night, playing chess and chatting amiably with Jim as if he hadn’t blown Jim’s entire worldview apart the day before.
Jim began the next day with a combination jerk off session and cold shower, thus making him irritable from the get-go as he settled into his command chair. He was momentarily glad Spock wasn’t there because he’d be able to sense something was wrong just by the way the back of Jim’s head was dejectedly tilted, but then bummed out again when he realized that he missed Spock being there all day.
“Captain,” Ensign Masters said urgently, her tone prompting Jim to shed his funk and turn in his chair to face the communications station. “Security has reported an altercation on deck 12 between security, Mr. Spock, and Lt. Uhura.”
“On my way,” Jim said, shooting out of his chair and barreling into the turbo lift. Jim’s heart was racing the entire way to Deck 12 as he jogged down its corridors until he reached the threshold of the science labs, staring at Spock and Uhura arguing about something as two lab techs were standing over a security guard as he lay on the ground, groaning in pain.
“…unnecessary and reckless.”
“Don’t give me that-he was attacking you!”
“What he hell happened?” Jim demanded.
“Lt. Uhura was neutralizing a minor threat, Captain.”
“He means that I saw Spock being assaulted by officer Chambers and punched him in the stomach.”
“Assaulted?” Jim repeated, insides going cold.
“I was quite able to deflect his advances, Lieutenant,” Spock told her, and Jim winced when Uhura rightfully glared at him.
“With a phaser aimed at your head? You should be thanking me, Commander.”
“He held a phaser on you?” Jim asked sharply, glaring at Spock with more heat than even Uhura could manage.
“I provoked him by breaking his grip on my arms with undo force and his combat training treated me as a threat.”
“Yeah, because he was making an unwanted advance. You had every right to defend yourself,” Uhura argued.
Jim felt like sitting on the ground and curling into a ball. Spock could have been killed over this. If Uhura hadn’t been there to intervene, Chambers could have fired on Spock in a lustful rage. All the amusement Jim had gotten out of this entire situation with Spock was gone, replaced by anger and fear for Spock’s safety and for his crew.
“Officer Chambers is to be taken to sickbay and questioned, though we all know he’s probably unaware of what he was doing. Lt. Uhura, expect a commendation.”
“Unnecessary, Captain. I’ve got reward enough.”
That managed to make Jim smile. “I guess you have, though I’m doing it anyway. Mr. Spock.” Jim’s voice dropped about twenty degrees. “I need to speak with your privately.”
“Of course, Captain,” Spock said, perfectly blank, meaning that he was anxious as all fuck.
As soon as Jim entered his quarters and the doors shut, he descended on Spock, pointing a finger at his chest.
“You are confined to your quarters. I don’t care how fucking bored you get-learn how to knit for all I care, just stay there. I’m posting at least one female guard outside your quarters ‘round the clock.”
Spock, instead of arguing like Jim thought he would, merely sighed and sat down at where they had the chess board still set up from the night before.
“Very well. I had not anticipated that those affected would turn violent when deprived of what they seek. At least, not within the behavioral pattern the Keidites reported in their own species. I should have accounted for this variable and realized that humans might be expected to progress at a faster rate into insanity.”
Jim tried to calm down in the face of Spock‘s chagrin, but all he could see was the chair Spock was sitting in empty and imagining never playing chess with Spock again, never talking to him, never seeing him each morning and knowing that the day can’t be a total waste as long as Spock looked over at him, nodded, and greeted him with, “Captain.” It made him sick and irrationally angry at Spock, more than it usually did when they were being attacked by natives or held ransom for Starfleet intelligence because Jim could have easily prevented this.
“Wow, there was something even you couldn’t predict? I guess Keidite women have inferior minds.”
Jim regretted it the minute he said it. He’d manage to insult Spock’s intelligence, his current emasculated state, and Keidite women all at the same time. Spock stiffened, eyes beginning to glitter black.
“As my condition is so repulsive to you, I shall take my leave.”
Spock shot toward the door, but Jim intercepted him, laying a gentle hand at the center of Spock’s chest.
“Don’t-that was horrible. You couldn’t have predicted what happened and you could never disgust me, not even if you turned into a Klingon. Please, stay,” Jim said, his voice small and weak without rage powering it.
Spock looked at him for a long moment and eventually acquiesced, turning to face the bulkhead and clasping his hands behind his back. Jim took Spock’s place, all but falling into the chair.
“You know, I never asked-what’s it like?”
“I urge you to be more specific.”
“You know,” Jim waved his hand in the air as if he could summon words from it. “Having…girl parts. I know you have to sit instead of stand in the bathroom and your pants probably feel a little looser, but are there other differences?”
Spock still faced the wall, and Jim was sort of glad because he’d unintentionally made this conversation awkward as hell.
“I function as I normally would. There are minute differences, but I find them to be of a private nature. In any case, you have identified the primary differences.”
“Well, that’s, um, interesting,” Jim said in what he hoped was an encouraging voice.
They elapsed into silence, Jim fidgeting with a pawn and Spock doing a great statue impression. Jim’s mind strayed into dangerous territory, staring at Spock’s back and lower, thinking about what Spock would look like naked. Naturally, this led him to start thinking about the simple solution to their problems, having sex. If it was a choice between death by accidental phasering or having hot interspecies sex, Jim was sure sex with him couldn’t be all bad for Spock. Though to be fair, Spock could easily stay locked in his quarters the entire time and thus Jim offering Spock sex when Spock clearly knew it was an option and had obviously dismissed it was a bad idea. But then, knowing Spock, maybe staying cooped up in his quarters for eleven days might be just slightly worse than sexing up his captain.
Jim steeled himself.
“Spock-I’m not affected by this mating thing.”
Spock turned around, a perplexed eyebrow raised. “Yes, and for that I am grateful.”
Well what did he mean by that? Was he glad that Jim wasn’t affected because he didn’t want Jim trying to hump his leg or was he just glad Jim didn’t have to supposedly suffer the same indignity that someone like, say, Bones currently did?
“When we first talked about this, you said that you wouldn’t have sex with someone if they weren’t aware of their actions.”
Spock’s perplexity turned into suspicion. “Yes, that is correct.”
“…and you’re not dumb, Spock, so you know what I’m offering.”
“Jim,” Spock said sharply, uncharacteristically starting a slow pace back and forth across the room. “I was aware of that alternative from the beginning. While it is true that, theoretically, you are endowed with the capacity to make a decision entirely of your free will, I also know that you are a loyal and caring man who would relieve a heavy burden from any member of this crew, let alone one borne by a close friend. In many respects, asking for or accepting aid of this kind is not unlike coercion.”
“Coercion? The sad part of this conversation is that I understand why you made that leap and that scares me because I wish I could yell at you more about how stupid it is.”
“Regardless of your opinion, it is never a good idea to introduce intercourse into a well-functioning friendship, let alone if one party of said friendship is human.”
This was certainly the oddest turn down for sex Jim had ever experienced. Jim’s lip quirked. “And with another half a human added in, I concede to the logic of weirdness.”
“I will stay in my quarters and employ more caution in my behavior, Captain.”
“You’re damn right you will. Right after I win this next chess game.”
Spock finally stopped pacing and appeared a million times more relaxed than he had when they’d arrived.
“Arrogance is unbecoming of you.”
Part 2
Series: Reboot
Pairing: Kirk/Spock
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Crack, PWP, Romance
Trope: aliensex, genderbending, naif!spock, sexpollen/spores, transporter malfunction (contains spoilers)
Relationship status: first time
Warnings: miscsquick
Word count: 18k
Summary: Spock exhibits increasingly strange behavior after a transporter malfunction and Jim wants to know why. Good thing nature has a flair for revealing the most asinine of secrets.
Notes: My attempt at subverting genderswap tropes. Also, I apparently thought my fic was getting too classy, so I have delved into crack territory. Jesus take the wheel. Beta by the always amazing cicero_drayon. Also available at AO3 in one piece.
A few seconds ago, all had been well. Jim had beamed back up to the ship with most of the landing party, having found the wayward Princess Havareh on an unpopulated mineral planet. The inhabitants of the planet Keid had refused to grant the Federation permission to mine dilithium on their planet until they located their princess, who apparently was considered a minor god there. Three parsecs, ten planet searches, and two dead crewmen later, they’d found the bitch hiding out on this planet, terrorizing the Human colonists with her terrible, shrewish personality. Spock had, of course, been the one to capture her, as he was the only one on the Enterprise not incapacitated by the blood-curdling Keidite scream. Jim had beamed up right before Spock, who had his arms clamped around the princess’s struggling lilac-colored arms, his face mildly conveying annoyance, which for him meant he was sorely tempted to just bitchslap the spoiled princess into the next quadrant.
All had gone promptly to shit seconds after Scotty started beaming up Spock and the princess. The transporter began to glow impossibly bright and then the usually mild sound of it working was replaced by what sounded like a train being beamed aboard. The medical alarm was blaring too, and Jim felt his insides go cold as he desperately looked into the blinding light of the transporter pad for his friend. The two figures seemed to flicker in and out, and it was so bright and so loud that Jim couldn't tell if Spock was screaming in agony or being tickled.
There was nothing like waiting a whole minute for a malfunctioning transporter to materialize its occupants...or what was left of them. Jim tried to push that thought away, instead focusing on the transporter controls, monitoring Spock's life signs as well as he could. Suddenly, Spock's vitals dropped steeply and Havareh's vitals completely plummeted.
"Spock!" Jim screamed, praying that Spock's Vulcan anatomy wouldn't fail him this time, would keep him alive. Jim had seen pictures of the aftermath of bad transporter accidents, mostly by Bones and his terrifying medical textbooks, always trying to immerse Jim into his own paranoia, a paranoia that was suddenly as valid as a tin-hatted 20th century man claiming aliens exist. The pictures were a horror show of limbs torn off victims, organs hideously protruding on the outside, heads set at a grotesque angle.
Finally the transporter wound down and two bodies hit the floor. Jim tore across the short distance to the pad, crashing to his knees by Spock's side and turning him over. Spock was breathing deeply, eyes wide. Jim patted him down with shaking hands, his heart trying to beat its way out of his chest. Spock's hand came up and gripped Jim's upper arm.
"I am unharmed, Captain."
Instantly, relief rushed through him. He turned his attention to Havareh, Spock's hand still warm on his arm. Bones had apparently arrived while Jim had been focusing on Spock and was now kneeling next to Havareh, shaking his head slowly.
"She's dead, Jim."
Jim felt an instant of remorse for the loss, and then cursed softly because the people of Keid were not going to be happy that they'd accidentally gotten their princess-god killed. He definitely wasn't going to be on the planet's surface when that news was delivered.
Spock shifted on the floor, and a spike of worry lit through Jim. Bones had also noticed the sharp movement and was by Spock's side before Jim could blink, running his medical tricorder over Spock's body.
"I am quite all right, doctor," Spock intoned, releasing Jim's arm and standing on his own.
"We'd better do a complete physical to be sure," Bones murmured.
"Unnecessary," Spock said.
"'Unnecessary?' Your molecules were just scrambled for breakfast!"
"Are my vital readings in any way unusual?"
"No, but-"
"Then our main priority at the moment is traveling back to Keid and resolving this unfortunate diplomatic occurrence."
"He's right, Bones," Jim said, sighing and running a hand through his hair. "I'll have to do some fast talking if I want to convince them that we're not murdering scumbags."
*
Jim turned out to be wrong about the natives hating them. Not only were they not considered murdering scumbags, the entire crew was regarded as planetary heroes. Little did the cultural experts of Starfleet know, the general Keidite population had believed for centuries that their royal family was descended from their gods and, in light of their supposed lineage, were considered immortal. The fact that Havareh was mortal brought about instant political upheaval, challenging their belief in ancient doctrine as well as in their caste system, an institution for about three quarters of the planet's population (71.36%, if you want to be Spock-specific.) The Keidites were so grateful for their new freedoms that a week-long celebration and feast was hastily put together, and the crew was invited to attend as honored guests.
Never one for turning down a prime shore leave opportunity, Jim instantly agreed and let Spock organize the leave parties. This turned out to be a bad idea, because when Jim reviewed the schedule, he himself was placed on all four of the leave rotations and Spock was not on any of them. It was Jim's first clue that something strange was going on because his gut was telling him that Spock didn't want his captain on the ship.
Jim slimmed his scheduled leave down to just the last rotation and set out to observe Spock and his increasingly erratic behavior over the next week. Spock begged off playing chess with Jim, citing that he was spending his leave in meditation and finishing some independent research. It wasn't wholly unusual of him to do this, but Spock had never avoided Jim this much, even when he'd been busier, not even when they didn't like each other.
Just as Jim was starting to be convinced that it was him that Spock was avoiding, he began to notice that Spock wasn't spending time with anyone else either. At one point Uhura had asked Jim what was wrong with Spock, but Jim had shrugged it off and said that he was in one of his "contemplative phases", though really that was shit because this was more of an "I'm-ignoring-the-entire-living-breathing-world-for-some-reason-I'm-not-saying-la-la-la" phase.
Kirk was really starting to worry when the end of the week rolled around and he was set to go on the last remaining day of shore leave. But he wasn't going alone, worrying the entire time and not enjoying being treated like a king.
Jim hit the buzzer for Spock's quarters, and Spock answered promptly, clad in his meditation robes. The neckline hung low and Jim glanced at it in appreciation.
"Come with me planetside."
Spock looked more tolerant than standoffish, so Jim felt his hopes rise. "To Vulcans, to rest is to rest, to not expend energy. I am currently resting."
"You've 'rested' for six days. Come on, you helped slay the evil dictator, you so need to get in on the worship too."
Oh no, there it was. The stony glare of cold disapproval.
"I do not revel in the fact that I was responsible for the death of another lifeform. Despite her negative disposition and the positive political revolution her death engendered, I do not wish to celebrate the loss of life."
Jim winced. "Okay, so that was an asshole thing to say. Let me rephrase what I mean; her death was an accident, but it also happened to give lot of people enlightenment and freedoms they’d been denied for centuries. You should extend a metaphorical diplomatic hand of friendship by attending their celebrations. You're not responsible."
"I should have anticipated that the Keidites have a high electrical charge in their bodies, an evolutionary result of their planet's strong magnetic field."
"Look, you may have been immune to the screams of a Keidite, but they sure as hell must have been disorienting. You weren't in your right mind, and even if you knew about the extra charge they have, it wouldn't matter because we've beamed up things that had much more electrical punch that anything they've got. You know all this, so I bet you're just trying to wiggle your way out of going. Come on, I'll even let you take a tricorder and play with the rocks and trees."
Spock's eyes seemed to light up, even if nothing else changed on his face. Jackpot.
"Perhaps I can be convinced. Do you believe that we can request a guide?"
*
Not only did they get a guide, they got a small caravan. Representatives from the four major nations of Keid all wanted to follow Jim around, and since Jim wanted to follow Spock, they wanted to follow Spock. Each representative came with his own scientist, each scientist came with his own team of researchers, and an extra half a dozen trail guides were thrown in to lead the expedition through the jungle and keep their asses from getting eaten by predators-though, with all the high-tech equipment that came with them, they were mostly there to haul supplies and recommend shortcuts. Thirty-six men for what was, essentially, a nature walk. Thirty-six men, a veritable sausage fest, and none of the sausages were even remotely hot-barring his first officer, of course.
They'd parked their floating jelly beans ("The strong magnetic field of this planet combined with the lighter pull of gravity allows them to create technology that uses those factors to propel seemingly dense objects with relative ease." "That still doesn't explain why they designed their air cars to look like jelly beans.") on the outskirts of a dense jungle an hour ago and they were now over a mile into it. Jim kept a close eye on Spock, who was alternately examining the plant life and speaking to the scientists using his professor voice, which Jim could only appreciate aurally since he didn't understand half of what they were talking about. Jim did notice, however, that Spock was lacking that thinly-veiled boyish delight he wore like a second skin when studying new things. Instead, Spock was treating this excursion like a research expedition in which he had to work quickly to find a cure or to stop some sort of disaster. It discomfited Jim because he felt like his ship was in danger, but that was ridiculous because Spock would have told him if something was up.
Jim was pulled from his confusing train of thoughts as the Keids began to trill excitedly in their native tongue. Jim's universal translator failed to translate some specifics of their words, so he figured that they were approaching a particularly awesome plant that hadn't made it into Starfleet's dictionary yet.
"Gentlemen, behold the Veiir!" said the ambassador from the nation of Tek'zs, arms waving expansively at a collection of beige plants that towered over them. They were around nine feet tall and resembled droopy mushrooms. "The lifeblood and mother of our people!"
With that odd pronouncement, one of the plants next to them spewed forth a few gallons of milky liquid onto Jim, Spock, the ambassador who had introduced the plant, and three scientists. It smelled like grass and was disconcertingly warm. Jim wiped his face off, cursing not-so diplomatically at the mess. Some kind of cloth was pressed into his hands and he instantly used it to wipe his face.
"Well that's just lovely. I guess it likes us," Jim said, trying to find his sense of good humor. That was when Jim noticed the confused murmurings with words like 'unusual', 'strange', and 'must document' hitting his ears. "What's wrong?"
The Tek'zs ambassador appeared too flummoxed to speak so, oddly, it was a guide who answered him. "The Veiir are only supposed to fertilize in the presence of an ovulating female."
"Fertilize? Ovulate?" Jim asked, his tone demanding a better, saner answer.
"The Veiir act in a symbiotic relationship with the Keid, Captain," Spock said, roughly scrubbing the towel around the nape of his neck. Spock sounded annoyed. Probably because Vulcans hated to be wet, or at least Spock hated to be wet. "These plants serve in the mating process of the Keids. The fluid released by the plant causes Keidite females to release a mating hormone that attracts males of the species."
"Great, so we were basically jizzed on," Jim surmised.
Another ambassador of a nation Jim couldn't hope to pronounce stepped forward and wiped his clean hands on the cloth Jim had tried to dry off with. Jim wrinkled his nose. "It is unusual that the Veiir released its sap when there are no females present."
"Strange," echoed a scientist, who was rubbing his hands in Spock's cloth now. Jim looked around and saw that they were all touching some of the goop like it was a great moisturizer or something.
"Okay, why are you guys rubbing your hands all in it?"
They all managed to look sheepish and it was the Tek'zs ambassador who decided to answer, cheeks dark like they were stained with grape juice. "A habit, really. If one is covered in the same sap an exposed female was covered in, the mating fever will not overcome them."
"Whoa, mating fever?" he looked over to Spock for an explanation, but Spock had gone ashen and was carefully not looking at Jim. Geez, were Vulcans that prudish?
"The hormone released by the female attracts males to them. It compels them to mate," an ambassador from Raailecti said.
Jim suddenly understood why their entire outfit was made up of men and why this plant was at once vital and kept far away from populated areas-it would be kind of awkward for all the men of a civilized society to go around blindly humping the females. A few of the scientists were examining the plant now, extracting some samples and placing them into containers. Well, at least they'd brought some entertainment to the group.
"We apologize for this strange occurrence," the Tek'zs ambassador said, and the other three ambassadors joined in on the profuse apologies. Jim waved their concern away.
"It's all right. I think my science officer and I would like a change of clothes," Jim said. Spock approached him shortly, not quite making eye contact.
"Captain, I wish to beam back up to the ship."
"But-we just got here! They'll get us a change of clothes, no problem."
"Jim," Spock said, and Jim instantly noted the title drop. "I respectfully wish to spend the rest of my leave aboard the ship. I apologize."
Jim sighed. Yeah, he could understand how having an alien plant come all over you could fuck your day up.
“That’s fine. Get cleaned up and report to the bridge. After the final ceremonies, we’ll be leaving orbit.”
“Understood, Captain.”
*
The party had been fun enough. There was an amazing firework show, made even more awesome by the high electrical current of the atmosphere, and the food was pretty good. He was even offered sex three times. He turned them all down, though, still bummed that Spock wasn’t there and realizing that he was no closer to lifting Spock’s strange mood than he was before beaming to the planet. He ended up leaving the festivities early, intent on finding Spock, batting his eyelashes, and getting some damn answers so that next time they were on leave, Jim could cavort and get laid with a free conscience.
Spock was nothing if not predictable; Jim found him in the science labs within five minutes. When he walked in, however, there was something off. A couple of the lab techs were working as per usual, but three others were staring avidly at Spock for no reason Jim could see. Maybe Spock was giving a lecture or showing them something. Jim walked up behind them.
“Something interesting going on?” he asked lightly. All three jumped, looking flushed and vaguely guilty, as if they were kids caught with their hands in a cookie jar. Spock turned at the sound of Jim’s voice, glancing at the crewmen as if he had just noticed they were there.
“Is there something you require?” Spock asked them in a terse voice, setting a vial perfunctorily into an analyzer. The three murmured something that must have equated to ‘the jig is up, let’s beat it’ and left the lab.
“Those guys weren’t bothering you, were they?” Jim asked, cutting his eyes to the door they’d escaped from.
Spock hesitated briefly before replying, “No, Captain.”
Jim didn’t really believe him, but it seemed minor enough that he let the matter slide for the time being. Well, at least until crew evaluations came up again.
“What are you working on?”
“Only one of my many recreational experiments. You would not find it of interest.”
“You know, I am more than just a pretty face.”
Spock looked sidelong at Jim, assessing. “I interpret that statement to mean that you believe I preclude you from discussion of my experiments because I hold the belief that you do not possess the mental capacity to understand them. That is clearly wrong, as I am fully aware of your mental proficiency and various scholastic accomplishments. I simply know that you have only a passing interest in chemistry and biology.”
“And you would be completely right as usual,” Jim said, smiling. He wished there was a way he could gather Spock’s sparse but genuine praises, bottle them as a sunscreen and bask all day in them. “If I’m bothering you, I can find somewhere else to be, no problem-”
“You may stay. Your presence is non-invasive.”
So Jim stayed a few minutes, perched on a stool, telling Spock all about the celebrations he’d missed while Spock quietly worked and listened. Jim didn’t mind Spock continuing with his work; he always knew that Spock hung on to his every word, as the guy was fully capable of holding up a conversation while computing complex equations in his head. It worked well for them, as Jim loved to talk his head off and Spock tolerated that tendency. Maybe more than tolerated it, since Spock seemed not to stick around and listen to just anyone blabber at him, never voluntarily engaged in small talk if he could avoid it first.
Eventually, Jim got tired of sitting still.
“Care to take a break and play some chess?” Jim asked.
“I am afraid that I must continue with my experiment tonight until it is completed. I would like to ‘check the rain’ and reschedule a game for tomorrow night.”
Jim chuckled. “It’s ‘take a rain check’, Spock.”
“As you wish. At any rate, I hope your evening is pleasant. I will plan for you to arrive in my quarters at any time after 1900 hours tomorrow night.”
Mollified, Jim said goodnight and went to bother Bones in sickbay, having already completed all his paperwork over the last week.
*
The following day they left orbit around Keid. Everything seemed to go back to normal. Jim didn’t see Spock during the day, as Spock was busy giving lectures in the science labs, but he was in his quarters when Jim swung by for a chess game that night. Spock seemed a little wrung out as he set up the board, but Jim attributed that to dealing with illogical humans asking redundant questions for hours and put it out of his mind.
That is, until he went to lunch a couple of days later.
Jim usually worked two shifts on average, given that there were no disasters occurring. In all truth, captains were never really off duty, but his work hours usually totaled up to two full shifts, one on bridge and the other attending to ship operations. His eating schedule hardly wavered; he woke at 0630, showered, dressed, and was on the bridge at 0700. A couple of hours after that, he was eating breakfast, and then he didn’t eat again until around 1700.
Today he had skipped breakfast in order to give a full briefing on the results of their last mission to Starfleet and thus was starving by mid-afternoon. Spock ate at this time with Uhura and then had his evening meal with Jim, effectively giving equal time to both friends. The fact that Jim was taking lunch today was pure serendipity, because as soon as he entered the mess hall, he knew that Spock would have later skipped dinner to avoid having Jim see what he saw now.
Uhura was absent and a group of crewmen clustered around Spock instead, all uncomfortably close. Spock was eating his lunch, seemingly oblivious to the small harem that swarmed him. Jim might have laughed at the situation, except all of the men had a glazed look in their eyes like they were slightly drugged and on the verge of doing something stupid. Jim’s eyes darted to a lieutenant’s hand reaching out and blind fury engulfed him when that hand grasped Spock’s forearm proprietarily, startling Spock enough that he dropped his fork, sending it clattering to the tray.
“What’s going on here?” Jim demanded, stalking up to the table. Spock rose from his seat, and a wave of sickness rolled over Jim when he saw how relieved Spock looked at his interruption. The men blinked at Jim, some of the dazed sheen in their eyes melting away and, as if they were waking up, they stood slowly to attention.
“Can someone explain to me why Mr. Spock is suddenly the most popular boy in school this afternoon?”
The men looked to one another for an answer, and while this just confused Jim even more, he felt a little better knowing that even they didn’t know what they were doing.
“We were just talking with Commander Spock,” Ensign Reeves said.
“Just talking,” Jim repeated, making it clear he didn’t believe that for a second. The men were silent for a while longer, and Jim didn’t know if they were struggling for an explanation or if their attention was drifting off, half of them having gone back to staring at Spock again. “Anyone care to tell me what the topic of this conversation was?”
More muddled silence. Jim fought the urge to roll his eyes.
“I’m sure you are all aware that every member of Starfleet must undergo rigorous training in crew relations. In fact, this particular crew was heavily inundated in Vulcan relation training due solely to the fact that its second in command was a Vulcan. Have I been misinformed of these facts?”
“No, sir,” the men chorused.
“Then you are well aware that each of you have grossly violated Mr. Spock’s cultural boundaries just now. I would think that my crew, which I like to think is the best in Starfleet, would not only show better respect to a commanding officer, but to a culture on the brink of extinction.”
The men shifted guiltily while Spock’s face remained perfectly blank.
“Expect a formal reprimand for each of you by first shift tomorrow. Dismissed.”
As soon as the men all but fled the scene, Jim jerked his head toward the door, and left with Spock. He headed straight for his quarters and-since Spock was highly intelligent-Spock followed Jim inside.
When the doors hissed shut, Jim spun around and said, “Spock, that was weird. I’m not blind, and you can’t ask me not to wonder why seven exemplary and disciplined officers were staring at you like you were a ribeye steak.”
“I ask you to do nothing of the sort.”
“So, you know what’s going on but you won’t tell me, is that it?”
“I do not believe that I said I knew what prompted their behavior.”
Jim was appalled. “Then is this some form of harassment? I swear to god, I will have each and every one of those officers court marshaled if that’s the case-”
“Jim,” Spock said. “I can assure you that those officers were not fully cognizant of their actions.”
“Meaning that you know what’s going on and are purposefully evading a direct answer,” Jim surmised.
“That would certainly be one interpretation.”
Spock was apparently dead set on not giving a direct answer. Jim started pacing, thinking quickly over all the details. The men were not themselves, meaning that this either this was Spock’s fault or the fault of a third party. Jim suddenly remembered the men gathered in the science labs three days ago, different from the ones at lunch today, then on the heels of that, recalled Spock’s odd behavior ever since the transporter malfunction-
“Shit,” Jim said, stilling. “You never got checked out after the transporter incident, did you?”
Spock avoided Jim’s eyes. “I am quite healthy.”
“And just how can you possibly know that? Besides, you’re well aware that unknown space pathogens crop up all the time! You’re getting a physical.”
“Captain, I would rather-”
“Commander,” Jim interrupted, face flushing in irritation. “That was an order. In fact, I’ll escort you to sickbay myself.”
Spock pursed his lips, and Jim almost wavered at the barely-concealed anger in his eyes.
“That will not be necessary. I shall report there shortly.”
When the door closed behind Spock’s stiff back, Jim sagged against his desk. If it turned out that there was nothing wrong with Spock, Jim was going to have to grovel for Spock to talk to him any time soon.
*
Jim tried to wait longer, but fifteen minutes later he was walking through the doors of sickbay, annoyed when he saw Bones slumped over in a chair; Spock had obviously not arrived yet, as Bones would have done the exam himself.
“You’re about to have a new patient,” Jim said, hopping onto a biobed next to Bones.
“Finally getting that brain surgery you obviously need?”
“Nope, my mind is beautiful and clearly underappreciated. No, your new patient is Spock, who has decided that my orders are to be taken lightly and who will thus have to have my foot surgically removed from his ass.”
“Please-don’t talk about the hobgoblin’s nether regions. You won’t need to do all that anyway; he’s being checked over by Nurse Chapel.”
Jim furrowed his eyebrows. “Is there a particular reason you’re not doing the exam?”
Bones sighed heavily, rubbing tired hands over his face. “Mostly because he requested that a female do it, and partly because I wanted to bend him over a biobed the second he walked in.”
That…was unexpected.
“Forget brain surgery; I think my ears need to be checked. Did you just imply that you want to, erm, jump his bones, Bones?”
“Of course I don’t want to, you brat-hold on a minute.” Bones jabbed a finger into Jim’s sternum. “Are you saying that you don’t feel that way?”
Jim boggled. “Is this some new fad going around the ship? Am I fashionably late to the Spock lust bus?”
“I’ve had two crewmembers come to me in confidence and request psych evals because of a sudden desire to have sex with their commanding officer. Both of these men, I might add, are happily married. I didn’t believe them at first, assumed they were either pulling my leg or were repressing some serious latent homoerotic leanings, until that overgrown elf came in and I got to experience the mindfuck for myself.”
“How in the hell is that possible?”
“Beats me. All I can do right now is avoid the bastard and patiently wait for this shift to end so I can drink my way into peaceful oblivion.”
Jim let Bones subside into miserable silence, trying to sort all this out in his mind. What the hell could make all the males on the ship suddenly want to have sex with Spock except Jim?
“I can’t imagine a transporter accident doing all this,” Jim muttered, mind still racing over possibilities.
“Neither can I. Anything else strange happen to you guys over the last few days? What all did you two do on shore leave?”
Jim gasped. “I’ve been an idiot. That plant on Keid! It spewed this stuff on us and it makes female Keidites go into heat.”
“Oh, you just happened to let that slip your mind?”
“Well, Spock’s not a girl and he’s not a Keidite, so yeah, sort of.”
“He’s not a human either, Jim! We have no idea how that plant might react to a Vulcan’s physiology. I’m going to wait for the exam results and then I think we should talk to those Keidites. I have a personal grudge against those purple bastards.”
After a short, awkward silence, Bones’ PADD beeped and he immediately began scanning the results. Something he read must have shocked the hell out of him, because his eyebrows winged up so far that they were in danger of disappearing into his hairline.
“What is it?”
“The bastard’s got a vagina.”
“A what?”
Bones whipped the PADD around, letting Jim see Spock’s chart. Sure enough, in loopy, girlish writing was written, ‘patient’s genitalia has inexplicably been rearranged due to transporter malfunction.’ Before Jim could read further, Bones went back to reading and immersing himself in the details as Jim tried to wrap his mind around the fact that Spock had been hiding a sporadic sex change for a couple of weeks now.
“As far as Nurse Chapel can see and from what Spock’s told her, the transporter flubbed with all that electrical discharge and rearranged a few molecules in that one particular area. She’s not sure, but the structure is not exactly like a human vagina, so either female Vulcans are different or, more likely, Spock’s manhood was swapped with Princess Havareh’s physical structure.”
“You’re telling me that Spock has a dead woman’s vagina?”
“It’s not her vagina, just the transporter got the atoms scrambled according to her pattern.”
“So, a dead woman’s vagina.”
“Her autopsy report showed that all her bits were intact. It just rearranged his molecules,” Bones said, growing annoyed.
“Vagina of the living dead,” Jim went on in a disbelieving voice.
“Jim-”
“Frankensnatch.”
“Damn it, stop that! At least we know the likely cause of all this and can figure out how to fix this-”
“I have been monitoring my condition sufficiently and further medical attention is not required, Doctor,” Spock said, entering the room with the least amount of grace Jim had ever seen the Vulcan possess, nearly knocking over a tray of surgical tools as he approached.
“Oh you no don’t, mister. My job is to make certain-”
Bones stopped mid-sentence, mouth falling a bit open as his eyes fell on Spock, one step away from flat-out drooling. Jim rolled his eyes and waved Spock out the door. Spock fled the scene and Bones snapped out of whatever fantasy he was in, face flushed.
“Goddamn it. I want every qualified person on this case working day and night to find a fix for this. From here on out, Spock is quarantined.”
“I’ll make sure he knows,” Jim said sympathetically, patting Bones’ shoulder. “You go take a cold shower.”
Jim rushed out the sliding doors before Bones could find something to throw at him, sobering as he walked to Spock’s quarters. His irritation that Spock had kept this pretty damn important piece of information from him for two weeks was fading and was rapidly being replaced by worry and guilt. Spock had to be feeling pretty humiliated right now, having his secret exposed to Bones and Chapel of all people. Jim would have given Spock time to cool off, but there were a million unanswered questions that needed to be addressed and his worry over Spock trumped whatever else he felt.
Jim had to wait several seconds after he buzzed for entrance to Spock’s quarters before Spock finally allowed him entrance. Spock had divested himself of his uniform and was standing at attention in his meditation robes, glaring at Jim. It was amazing how perfectly neutral Spock appeared unless you looked at his eyes, which somehow had the ability to churn like the event horizon of a black hole, sucking all available light from the room.
Jim immediately went for mercy. “I’m sorry, Spock.”
“That is quite all right, Captain.” It so wasn’t. “Nurse Chapel almost managed not to wince in sympathy when faced with my genital area. It was almost a professional exam-until I had to disrobe and explain my condition to her. Yes, it was highly refreshing to be reminded that Vulcans are not immune from the follies of existence and that her belief that I would be a perfect mate has been challenged.”
Dear god, it was like Spock’s passive aggressiveness could physically reach out and slap him across the few feet that lie between them.
“Look, I said I’m sorry. I didn’t think about the affect you were having over males and I didn’t expect Christine to be your examiner. I should’ve just bugged you until you broke down and told me instead of ordering you around.” Jim sighed and sat down in the seat across from Spock’s desk, rubbing his face tiredly. “I turn into an asshole when I’m worried and scared. Can I beg human frailty?”
Spock hesitated a few moments before moving from the center of the room to his desk, seating himself primly across from Jim. Jim chanced a look up, relieved to see that Spock looked less ready to throttle him. Again.
“You’re under quarantine until further notice,” Jim said quietly, shaping the words into a statement rather than an order. Spock nodded, obviously expecting this.
“I have researched my condition extensively and plan to turn over my findings promptly. I request that as few members of this crew know of my changed physical condition as possible.”
“McCoy knows all about confidentiality and so does Chapel. We’ll have to tell the crew about the plant and the effects its having, just so they don’t all think they’ve gone mad and they know to steer clear of you.”
“That is to be expected,” Spock agreed, nodding slightly.
“How far have you gotten in your research?”
“The results are promising. I have mapped out the genetic variances and have studied the transporter patterns of myself and Haverah. I can expect a full reversal of my molecular composition in 13.2 days.”
“Two more weeks? What about this heat business? Have you figured out a solution to that?”
Spock fidgeted. “I privately consulted with the Keidite scientists and researchers before leaving the planet and have ample material of this phenomena. In their 8,000 years of recorded existence, they have been unable to find a cure for the mating fever. Even with all their advanced technology, there is no known deterrent for this biological imperative.”
“I can’t believe this. It’s like something out of science fiction. How ridiculous is a species-wide mating drive?”
For some reason, Spock wouldn’t meet his eyes. He was probably mortified at all the randy humans crossing his path lately. Eventually Spock cleared his throat.
“It is rather fascinating to view the behavior of those suffering the madness.”
“So what have you tried? What if we get the science department to help out?”
Spock actually flushed a little, an adorable hue of pale green tingeing his cheeks.
“That will not be necessary. It is a highly private matter of a nature I am uncomfortable discussing with the crew.”
“Well, how ‘bout me? I promise I won’t tell a soul.”
“Of that I have no doubt,” Spock said, expression softening. “The results have been unsatisfactory thus far. There appears to be no way to circumvent the Keidite estrous cycle. No matter what artificial means I employ, the status remains the same.”
“‘Artificial means?’ What, you mean a hypo of heat-reducer or something?”
“Negative. The Kedites helpfully supplied me with several samples of male seminal fluid. I have manually inserted them into my body to recreate the mating process.”
Something fizzed out in Jim’s brain. Something that stopped coherent thought and sent a slow burn to his lower regions. “Is that a science-y way to tell me that you fucked yourself with a dildo?”
Spock scowled and colored more. “A crude but effective analysis of the procedure.”
Procedure indeed. Spock had masturbated with a dildo. Did Spock own a dildo already or did he have to get one from the replicator? How big was it? Had he gotten off on it? Holy shit, it happened in this very room, just past the room divide and on top of Spock’s bed with its crisp sheets and neat corners. Jim hadn’t known if Vulcans jerked off, and they still might not, but he had 100% confirmation that one Commander Spock had sexually pleasured himself at least once in his lifetime. Is that why Spock had turned down a chess game in the science lab the other day? Because he had to go back to his room and-
“Captain, are you all right?”
Jim swallowed, realizing that he’d been silent for a good while.
“I’m fine, and that’s good. I mean, it’s great that you really did try your best to relieve-resolve the situation.” Jim mentally shook himself and focused on more important issues. “But now we’ve got to worry about you and the crew’s safety. We’ve already seen the reaction to you escalate in a period of three days. Imagine what it’s going to be like on this ship in two weeks.”
“The prospect is bleak.” Spock sighed, a clear signal that he was stressed. “I will be unable to perform a number of my duties. At this point I can safely work in the science labs, provided that all male crewmembers are directed away from my path and I only interact with female crewmembers.”
“I suppose that won’t be out of the question. I mean, it would get pretty boring for you if you had to sit in your quarters for two weeks. Scotty can be the acting first officer and Chekov can help at the science station.”
“There is also a starbase approximately eight days from our current position in case there are unforeseen complications.”
“You know,” Jim said, donning a playful tone, “You could just let nature take its course. I’ve heard that Ensign Palmer had a thing for you.”
“Out of the question,” Spock said firmly, taking the edge off Jim’s mirth with his severity. “It would be immoral to engage in intercourse when one party is not aware of their actions and is unable to give their consent.”
I can give consent, Jim thought, and where the hell had that come from?
“I’d better go tell Doctor McCoy everything and make an announcement to the ship.” Jim stood and looked down at Spock in quiet consideration. “Don’t worry-everything will be fine. I’ll take care of you.”
Spock blinked. “This human tendency to ascribe feelings in carrying out one’s duty-”
“-is silly, I know. I suppose you’ll just have to suffer my illogic as you always do and try to pretend you’re not glowing on the inside.”
“Glowing, Sir?”
“You’re positively radiant, Mr. Spock.”
Jim smiled as he caught Spock’s puzzled look out of the corner of his eye as he left for his own quarters.
*
The first day was awkward but surprisingly manageable. The crewmen stayed clear of Spock and clear of mind, the only hiccup being that the range of influence had expanded and a couple of crewmen had been caught off guard at the end of corridors as Spock walked to the science labs. The ship didn’t fall apart and no one was scarred for life, so Jim counted the day as a win and was happy that his crew was taking this situation seriously and professionally.
The same couldn’t be said for their captain.
Ever since Jim had let the thought of helping Spock out with his problem cross his mind, he’d been unable to think of little else. It was almost inevitable that he would think of it in depth, being that his mind always went over every single strategy at his disposal, even one that might get him thrown out of Spock’s quarters if he even suggested it. The thing is, it was a simple, logical alternative. Spock and Jim have sex, Spock waits around like normal for two weeks, runs himself through the transporter, becomes a real boy again, and they blissfully pretend this entire series of events never occurred. Yet, if Jim was just now coming up with this plan, Spock had surely thought of it days ago when he confirmed that the Veiir jizz had made Jim immune at the same time it made Spock Vulcan cat nip.
Jim spent that first night in his quarters jerking off and trying not to think of what Spock looked like with a vagina and failing spectacularly. Jim had never thought of Spock while masturbating before. Not because of some high moral code, but for the fact that he’d honestly never imagined Spock would ever have sex with him and because they were best friends, thus why he’d also never imagined sex with Bones either. But now that the possibility existed, suddenly Jim couldn’t keep his hands off himself-which was a great thing, because that kept them off of Spock, who spent the evening in Jim’s quarters that night, playing chess and chatting amiably with Jim as if he hadn’t blown Jim’s entire worldview apart the day before.
Jim began the next day with a combination jerk off session and cold shower, thus making him irritable from the get-go as he settled into his command chair. He was momentarily glad Spock wasn’t there because he’d be able to sense something was wrong just by the way the back of Jim’s head was dejectedly tilted, but then bummed out again when he realized that he missed Spock being there all day.
“Captain,” Ensign Masters said urgently, her tone prompting Jim to shed his funk and turn in his chair to face the communications station. “Security has reported an altercation on deck 12 between security, Mr. Spock, and Lt. Uhura.”
“On my way,” Jim said, shooting out of his chair and barreling into the turbo lift. Jim’s heart was racing the entire way to Deck 12 as he jogged down its corridors until he reached the threshold of the science labs, staring at Spock and Uhura arguing about something as two lab techs were standing over a security guard as he lay on the ground, groaning in pain.
“…unnecessary and reckless.”
“Don’t give me that-he was attacking you!”
“What he hell happened?” Jim demanded.
“Lt. Uhura was neutralizing a minor threat, Captain.”
“He means that I saw Spock being assaulted by officer Chambers and punched him in the stomach.”
“Assaulted?” Jim repeated, insides going cold.
“I was quite able to deflect his advances, Lieutenant,” Spock told her, and Jim winced when Uhura rightfully glared at him.
“With a phaser aimed at your head? You should be thanking me, Commander.”
“He held a phaser on you?” Jim asked sharply, glaring at Spock with more heat than even Uhura could manage.
“I provoked him by breaking his grip on my arms with undo force and his combat training treated me as a threat.”
“Yeah, because he was making an unwanted advance. You had every right to defend yourself,” Uhura argued.
Jim felt like sitting on the ground and curling into a ball. Spock could have been killed over this. If Uhura hadn’t been there to intervene, Chambers could have fired on Spock in a lustful rage. All the amusement Jim had gotten out of this entire situation with Spock was gone, replaced by anger and fear for Spock’s safety and for his crew.
“Officer Chambers is to be taken to sickbay and questioned, though we all know he’s probably unaware of what he was doing. Lt. Uhura, expect a commendation.”
“Unnecessary, Captain. I’ve got reward enough.”
That managed to make Jim smile. “I guess you have, though I’m doing it anyway. Mr. Spock.” Jim’s voice dropped about twenty degrees. “I need to speak with your privately.”
“Of course, Captain,” Spock said, perfectly blank, meaning that he was anxious as all fuck.
As soon as Jim entered his quarters and the doors shut, he descended on Spock, pointing a finger at his chest.
“You are confined to your quarters. I don’t care how fucking bored you get-learn how to knit for all I care, just stay there. I’m posting at least one female guard outside your quarters ‘round the clock.”
Spock, instead of arguing like Jim thought he would, merely sighed and sat down at where they had the chess board still set up from the night before.
“Very well. I had not anticipated that those affected would turn violent when deprived of what they seek. At least, not within the behavioral pattern the Keidites reported in their own species. I should have accounted for this variable and realized that humans might be expected to progress at a faster rate into insanity.”
Jim tried to calm down in the face of Spock‘s chagrin, but all he could see was the chair Spock was sitting in empty and imagining never playing chess with Spock again, never talking to him, never seeing him each morning and knowing that the day can’t be a total waste as long as Spock looked over at him, nodded, and greeted him with, “Captain.” It made him sick and irrationally angry at Spock, more than it usually did when they were being attacked by natives or held ransom for Starfleet intelligence because Jim could have easily prevented this.
“Wow, there was something even you couldn’t predict? I guess Keidite women have inferior minds.”
Jim regretted it the minute he said it. He’d manage to insult Spock’s intelligence, his current emasculated state, and Keidite women all at the same time. Spock stiffened, eyes beginning to glitter black.
“As my condition is so repulsive to you, I shall take my leave.”
Spock shot toward the door, but Jim intercepted him, laying a gentle hand at the center of Spock’s chest.
“Don’t-that was horrible. You couldn’t have predicted what happened and you could never disgust me, not even if you turned into a Klingon. Please, stay,” Jim said, his voice small and weak without rage powering it.
Spock looked at him for a long moment and eventually acquiesced, turning to face the bulkhead and clasping his hands behind his back. Jim took Spock’s place, all but falling into the chair.
“You know, I never asked-what’s it like?”
“I urge you to be more specific.”
“You know,” Jim waved his hand in the air as if he could summon words from it. “Having…girl parts. I know you have to sit instead of stand in the bathroom and your pants probably feel a little looser, but are there other differences?”
Spock still faced the wall, and Jim was sort of glad because he’d unintentionally made this conversation awkward as hell.
“I function as I normally would. There are minute differences, but I find them to be of a private nature. In any case, you have identified the primary differences.”
“Well, that’s, um, interesting,” Jim said in what he hoped was an encouraging voice.
They elapsed into silence, Jim fidgeting with a pawn and Spock doing a great statue impression. Jim’s mind strayed into dangerous territory, staring at Spock’s back and lower, thinking about what Spock would look like naked. Naturally, this led him to start thinking about the simple solution to their problems, having sex. If it was a choice between death by accidental phasering or having hot interspecies sex, Jim was sure sex with him couldn’t be all bad for Spock. Though to be fair, Spock could easily stay locked in his quarters the entire time and thus Jim offering Spock sex when Spock clearly knew it was an option and had obviously dismissed it was a bad idea. But then, knowing Spock, maybe staying cooped up in his quarters for eleven days might be just slightly worse than sexing up his captain.
Jim steeled himself.
“Spock-I’m not affected by this mating thing.”
Spock turned around, a perplexed eyebrow raised. “Yes, and for that I am grateful.”
Well what did he mean by that? Was he glad that Jim wasn’t affected because he didn’t want Jim trying to hump his leg or was he just glad Jim didn’t have to supposedly suffer the same indignity that someone like, say, Bones currently did?
“When we first talked about this, you said that you wouldn’t have sex with someone if they weren’t aware of their actions.”
Spock’s perplexity turned into suspicion. “Yes, that is correct.”
“…and you’re not dumb, Spock, so you know what I’m offering.”
“Jim,” Spock said sharply, uncharacteristically starting a slow pace back and forth across the room. “I was aware of that alternative from the beginning. While it is true that, theoretically, you are endowed with the capacity to make a decision entirely of your free will, I also know that you are a loyal and caring man who would relieve a heavy burden from any member of this crew, let alone one borne by a close friend. In many respects, asking for or accepting aid of this kind is not unlike coercion.”
“Coercion? The sad part of this conversation is that I understand why you made that leap and that scares me because I wish I could yell at you more about how stupid it is.”
“Regardless of your opinion, it is never a good idea to introduce intercourse into a well-functioning friendship, let alone if one party of said friendship is human.”
This was certainly the oddest turn down for sex Jim had ever experienced. Jim’s lip quirked. “And with another half a human added in, I concede to the logic of weirdness.”
“I will stay in my quarters and employ more caution in my behavior, Captain.”
“You’re damn right you will. Right after I win this next chess game.”
Spock finally stopped pacing and appeared a million times more relaxed than he had when they’d arrived.
“Arrogance is unbecoming of you.”
Part 2