McCoy/Chapel Part Three: Between the Vanities, But All I See Is You
Part One
Part Two
Between the Vanities, But All I See is You
by JJPH
(see profile page for disclaimer)
What Christine can’t get over is how no one aboard the Enterprise has figured it out, not one soul. To be fair, it’s not as if they’re flaunting it. Christine was relieved to discover that like herself, McCoy prefers to keep the people he beds a private matter, unlike say, the captain. Between the ever-growing list of Kirk’s conquests and the far more salacious rumor that Uhura was involved with a shipmate (the smart money was on Sulu), the Head Nurse and Chief Medical Officer slipped under the radar. Still, Christine couldn’t help but be amazed. These were the brightest minds assigned to the shiny, new flagship of the Federation Fleet, and no one had noticed that Doctor Leonard McCoy was fucking her blind every chance they got.
Christine’s never been someone who thought of herself as having a ‘sex life,’ per se. She had boyfriends, not lovers. Across sickbay, McCoy’s voice rose and fell over the muted beeping of a med scanner. Christine smiled to herself. She slid one finger over the hem of her skirt and pictured the dark-red bruises the good doctor sucked onto her skin in the early hours of the morning. He had taken a chance marking her so close to the edge of her uniform, but what was life, he’d asked while she keened, without a little risk?
“Listen up, everyone.” McCoy’s voice cut across the chatter of techs and nurses. “Now that repairs to the auxiliary sickbays on three and twelve are finally finished, we’ll be operating on a standard shift-schedule.” He glanced down at the antique analog timepiece he wore strapped around one wrist. Christine had insisted the ship’s computer kept perfect time, but McCoy either didn’t believe her or didn’t care. Stubborn bastard.
“Group A, as it is 2100 hours, your shift is over. Group B will be in shortly, so get out of here before I change my mind and put you back to work.” Christine reached up to pull off her On-Duty badge when he interrupted her. “Not you, Nurse Chapel.” He frowned as two of her fellows nurses lingered, listening. “My records indicate you have no current physical on file.”
Christine blinked at him. “No, Doctor, but I can assure you I am-perfectly healthy.” Where was he going with this?
“You are aware, Nurse, that this means you are in violation of the Starfleet personnel code?”
“Yes, but-”
McCoy continued. “Stay after and we’ll get that taken care of.” He jerked his head at the other nurses, who scattered. Christine fought down a smile as the sickbay emptied. Oh. A physical. She preened as she hopped up an exam table. Fantastic. She leaned backwards as McCoy pulled up a stool. She spread her knees, already feeling herself open for him. To her surprise, however, McCoy snapped her knees shut with one hand and began checking her pupil dilation.
She waited for the mood to shift, for some indication that he was taking advantage of the myriad possibilities available to them in an empty sickbay. But his hands remained cool and brusque, his touch consummately professional. “You’re serious,” she said into the silence. McCoy had one hand on her hand and a respiratory monitor held lightly between her shoulder blades.
McCoy looked confused. “Of course I’m serious. I won’t break the rules for you just because-” Christine expected him to say anything, you’re my lover, you’re screwing my brains out, you look so pretty tonight, other than what he did. “-you’re Head Nurse. Now breathe deeply.” Christine did what he says and wondered at the man that is McCoy.
She was all ready to hop down and head back to her quarters when McCoy grabbed her arm. He frowned at his PADD display and muttered, “Stay there.” He set the PADD down and tapped a code into the nearest wall consol. “Lie back.”
Christine tried to think of what possible facet of her exam could be irregular. “Why? What’s the matter?” McCoy sat down on the stool again and stroked his palms up the backs of her legs. She couldn’t suppress a shiver. Now McCoy looked up at her, suddenly grinning, suddenly playful.
“I’m not satisfied with your reflexivity results,” he said, dropping his voice an octave or so. It would have been ridiculous if it wasn’t working on her already. He inched her skirt up until he revealed the first mouth-sized bruise on her thigh. “I have it on excellent authority you can be quite responsive.”
Christine rolled her eyes to cover the surge of heat that blossomed under his hands. “Believe me, Doctor, my sensitivity levels are exactly where they need to-shit!” She stiffened when he latched onto a particularly deep bruise on her left thigh. He pulled lightly at the skin with his teeth and Christine felt it all the way up to where she’s wet and aching. She propped herself up on her elbows and tugged weakly at the pull curtain. McCoy did the unthinkable and took his mouth away.
“Leave it.” His voice had gone rough around the edges, his accent bleeding through more than usual. Christine didn’t need to see to know that he was already stroking himself through his trousers.
“But, the next shift-”
McCoy ignored her, preferring instead to insinuate his shoulders between her legs. “Nurse Chapel, the next shift can line up and watch for all I care.” He punctuated each statement with a hot, open-mouthed kiss as he worked his way up. “I’ll have you when I want you, where I want you, however I want you.” She moaned softly and pushed at his head. Without stopping, McCoy grazed his teeth along the juncture of her hip and thigh. “Now I don’t want to hear another goddamn word out of your mouth that isn’t good, more, or Leonard. Understand me?” Without waiting for a reply, he licked into her and Christine’s world went molten-white.
For a man who claimed not to enjoy going down, McCoy certainly wasn’t shy about experimenting. Christine made the most of the limited vocabulary at her disposal, telling him it was good, it was so good, Leonard, more, oh fuck please more. He placed a few more smacking kisses on her heated flesh before finding her clit. He pushed his miracle of a mouth right up against where she needed him most and before she could process what was happening, she was coming, absurdly hard, almost too hard to enjoy.
Almost.
McCoy crawled back up her body, his chin slick with her climax. “Flip,” he said and laid a stinging slap on the side of her ass. She rolled to her side and let him hitch her up on her knees. She groaned when he pushed into her, still too-tight from her orgasm. “Fuck, that’s good,” he grunted. “Felt you come, felt you tense up on my tongue, fucking beautiful and hot, so hot, oh Christ, Chrissy.” Christine slipped a shaking hand down her belly and set herself off again.
Doctor Leonard McCoy, Chief Medical Officer of the Federation Starship USS Enterprise lost every last shred of control and slammed forward once, twice, shouted hoarsely, and then collapsed over her.
Christine pulled it together first. “Computer,” she rasped as she tried to shift a half-unconscious McCoy off her. “Lock all doors to sickbay.”
The computer chimed back, perfectly placid. “Unable to comply. Doors already locked on command of Chief Medical Officer L. McCoy.” Christine gave up the fight of get her skirt back into place and glared down at McCoy. She slammed a sharp elbow into his ribs. He grunted, snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her to him. She was not going melt. No sir, she was not going to melt into his side, to press against the solid warmth of him, and…oh fuck it.
“You’re a jerk,” she murmured as she skated her nails up and down his chest.
“What for this time?” he asked, half-asleep. They could not fall asleep here, Christine reminded herself. There were reasons for that. Good reasons.
“I thought the doors were open the whole time.” Honestly, she yawned. It was like the man wanted to get caught.
McCoy bumped his nose against her temple and snuffled at her sweat-damp hair. “Yeah well, I lied.”
“About what?” It was ridiculously difficult to remember what was wrong with curling up right here and passing out. It would save time in the morning getting to work anyways.
McCoy met her eyes and his were so dark, Christine felt lost. “No one gets to watch you but me.” He passed out before she could answer him, which is a small blessing because what the fuck do you say to that?
"Okay," she mumbled into the crook of his neck. "Okay. Nobody but you."