Path: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!elnk-atl-nf1!newsfeed.earthlink.net!prodigy.com!prodigy.com!border1.nntp.dca.giganews.com!nntp.giganews.com!newsread.com!newsstand.newsread.com!POSTED.newshog.newsread.com!not-for-mail Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative.erotica.moderated Approved: ascem@earthlink.net Organization: Better Living Thru TrekSmut Sender: ascem@earthlink.net Message-ID: <1986761554.20041114160213@gmx.de> From: "A.Q" MIME-Version: 1.0 Mailing-List: list ASCEML@yahoogroups.com; contact ASCEML-owner@yahoogroups.com Subject: NEW TOS "The Squire's Turn" 1/2 [NC-17] Kirk/McCoy , challenge Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-15 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit Lines: 512 Date: Sun, 14 Nov 2004 15:55:03 GMT NNTP-Posting-Host: 209.198.142.218 X-Complaints-To: Abuse Role , We Care X-Trace: newshog.newsread.com 1100447703 209.198.142.218 (Sun, 14 Nov 2004 10:55:03 EST) NNTP-Posting-Date: Sun, 14 Nov 2004 10:55:03 EST Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative.erotica.moderated:85594 X-Received-Date: Sun, 14 Nov 2004 07:56:06 PST (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) Title: The Squire's Turn Author: Acidqueen Series: TOS Codes: Kirk/McCoy (female) Rating: NC-17 for het sex; warning: possibly clichés; challenge Summary: The Squire of Gothos has a last, unexpected gift for Archive: My own website at http://www.syredronning.de , ASCEM, all others ask, please. Acknowledgement: Thanks to Farfalla for beta'ing! All remaining errors are mine :) * Additional Log Entry, Captain Kirk Just when we thought we had finally gotten rid of the Squire and his 'parents', he briefly resurfaced to play a crude and unmotivated joke on one of my crewmembers, transforming Dr. McCoy into a woman. We tried to contact the Squire's parents or himself, but to no avail so far. Dr. McCoy is taking the unusual situation as well as could be expected. The Science Department is analyzing possible ways to retransform him, but I fear nothing short of magic - or aliens with a power far above our own - can achieve this goal. * A fascinating situation, Spock thought as they sat in Briefing Room One the next day together with Kirk and Scott. McCoy still tried to look like a man, wearing his usual uniform even though it didn't really fit anymore. Since the Squire had at least good taste in women, McCoy looked remarkably good. Long, dark hair framed a round but beautiful face with sparkling blue eyes, and the lean body had acquired rounder hips and firm, medium-sized breasts. All in all, there was only a slight similarity to the old McCoy. Spock noticed the enhanced pulses of his human colleagues, although they tried to avoid staring. "Have we achieved anything?" Kirk asked. "No, Captain," Spock answered. "All attempts to contact the aliens have failed so far. However, we are pursuing the scans and hailing attempts." McCoy stared at the table top, fingers tightly closed around a padd. "Doctor, how is your department adjusting to your changes?" Kirk asked him. "Oh," McCoy looked up. "Good. Since he didn't transform me into a squirrel or a Napoleonic canon, I can fulfill my duties without interruption." "And how are you adjusting, Doctor?" Spock asked. McCoy gave him a glare, but it lost much of its impact when delivered by fine, female features. "It's no fun to have a gender change in your middle ages, Mr. Spock. But I get along and keep hoping that I'm going to return to my normal state as soon as possible." "This might take some time, though," Kirk said. "Until then, I think we'll all handle it exemplarily. I will inform the crew of the change." McCoy sighed, but nodded in agreement. "Dismissed," Kirk said, and found himself looking at McCoy's transformed back until it vanished through the door. When Spock had left too, Scott gave him a knowing smile. "He's a pretty impressive lady, isn't he?" he said in the voice of a fellow conspirator. "Indeed, Mr. Scott," Kirk replied. "However, don't forget that it's still our old McCoy...even if he doesn't look like it." "Yes, Sir." Scotty nodded, and left. * Two days went by, during which McCoy didn't show up on the bridge, so Kirk found it was his duty to stir the lion...or lioness...in its own den. When he arrived at Sickbay, McCoy was in his office and deeply occupied with his terminal. For a moment Kirk stared at the delicate neck. It was weird to see this new McCoy - but it was also...interesting. His friend seemed to have felt his gaze on his back and turned. "Hello, Jim," he said, and got up. "Wow..." Kirk barely managed to say. For the first time since the transformation, McCoy was wearing a woman's uniform, and so Kirk got a first class glimpse of long, beautiful legs. It was definitely breathtaking. "I thought I'd give it a try," McCoy grumbled. "Those standard boy uniforms just didn't fit, no matter what I tried. But I had a hard time convincing the computer that I was authorized for a lt. commander badge. Seems there aren't many female CMOs in the fleet." "I know of exactly three now," Kirk agreed. McCoy half sat on the table, folding his arms. But where this had been an innocent gesture in the past, it looked very different today, giving Kirk all sorts of weird ideas. "Any special reason why you've found your way down to sickbay?" the doctor said, stirring Kirk out of his daydream. "Ah - no, just wanted to check on you." "Everything's fine," McCoy said. "I think the people around me have a harder time to adapt than I have." "Probably," Kirk agreed whole-heartedly, staring into some very blue eyes. "Did you even use make-up?" "A bit. Uhura showed up and gave me some tips." Kirk grinned, which made McCoy frown. "Might as well try to look 'normal', while I've got to run around like this," he said coolly. "Oh, it looks marvellous. Really." He wanted to add 'Bones', but somehow the nickname didn't fit to this sexy woman. McCoy had cut the long hair to shoulder length, but there it fell in a natural wave, shimmering in the bright illumination of sickbay. Kirk fingered his own hair. "Well, I better go back to the bridge. Care to come with me?" "No, thanks," McCoy said. "Feeling uncomfortable?" McCoy nodded. "A bit. At least with this." He tugged at the short skirt. "Maybe in a few days, when everyone's more adjusted to it. Me included." "Alright. Just remember - I miss you up there. Nobody's massaging my shoulders." Kirk grinned. "Am I your yeoman?" McCoy stated, raising a brow. "My yeoman doesn't do that either," Kirk said wistfully. "Anyway...you know you're always welcome. See you tonight after the shift, okay?" McCoy nodded and, with that promise, Kirk returned to the bridge with a feeling of relief. * "I haven't seen much of Doctor McCoy lately," Sulu noticed when he had dinner with Uhura, Chapel and Chekov a week later in the mess. Chapel looked up from her plate where she had poked at her salad. "He's still having a hard time to adapt. And to tell the truth, I have, too. He's so moody lately. Only the captain can cheer him up." "Oh, Mr. Scott, too," Chekov said. "They've had lunch together a few times last week." He dropped his voice. "Who do you think will make the race? "Tsktsk." Uhura disapprovingly shook her head. "McCoy really needs his best friends now." "I'm sure they need him too," Sulu stated with a broad grin. "I'd bet on Mr. Scott." The women frowned. "Are you betting over us, too?" Chapel asked critically. "No," Sulu said, but there was a faint blush on his cheeks. Uhura and Chapel exchanged glances over their plates. "Really, we don't." Sulu looked insulted. "But this thing with McCoy...I don't know, maybe it's because the change happened here. Or maybe because he's so unsure of himself. You know, like in those old stories. Not a woman of today, but shy and reluctant in her manners." "In a way, it's quite charming," Chekov agreed. "So you'd rather like to have old-fashioned girls around you, so that you can be the heroes?" Uhura asked. Now it was Chekov who looked insulted. "Not at all, Uhura. You know I've no problems with strong women." Sulu came to his help. "Of course we've no problems with that. But sometimes a man just wants to be the strong, assuring person to a vulnerable lady -" Uhura and Chapel exchanged another glance and, as if by command, took their plates. "Thanks for the enlightenment, guys" Chapel stated. "We'll let you dream along for a while." Uhura nodded and added, "But I wouldn't tell McCoy in your place - I think he'd knock you over your male head for it. And that would hurt even with his beautiful hands." "Uhura..." Chekov said helplessly as they left their table. Sulu shrugged. "Seems they're a bit sensitive right now." Chekov heaved a sigh. "Women!" Shaking their heads, they concentrated on their food again. * Unaware of the spreading rumors, Kirk was at McCoy's door the same night, lingering outside for a second. McCoy had been an important friend in his life for many years, but since the change, he began feeling differently for him - he just didn't know how to bring his point across. He'd tried his usual charming approach, but it hadn't help to bridge the demure walls that McCoy had erected lately. He chimed, still in thoughts. Maybe the problem was that he had been too much of a gentleman. The direct approach was usually more successful than reluctance. The door opened, and Kirk entered. McCoy was sitting on the edge of his bed, the skirt barely covering his hips. A smile spread over his face on the sight of Kirk, changing into slight astonishment when Kirk crossed the distance and sat down next to him. "Bones..." Kirk said, facing the blue eyes that mirrored many emotions right now - but not rejection. Softly but determined, Kirk put one finger under McCoy's chin and tilted his head up into a kiss. At first McCoy's reply came cautious, but with the next kiss he already fully leaned into it, answering Kirk's probing with some probing of his own. McCoy's lips were warm and inviting, and Kirk felt himself hardening. He pulled McCoy's female body into a tighter embrace, pressing one knee between his. McCoy's arms were around him, caressing over his back. Encourage by the response, Kirk let his hands slip under the skirt and began kneading McCoy's hip. "Jim..." McCoy whispered as they broke the kissing for a moment. "Yes?" Kirk murmured. "Hold on for a second," McCoy said, and slightly sat back. Then he looked at Kirk with a very serious gaze. "Better think about it, Jim - would you have done that with the male McCoy, too?" "I don't know," Kirk admitted. And he frankly didn't care much right now. "Then we'll better stop here." McCoy pulled away. "The Squire didn't change my inside, Jim. I still feel male. Heck, I am still male in my own perception. It's only the outside that changed, and if I've any say in it, I'm going to be a man again in the nearest possible future." Kirk sighed and tried to appease his raging hormones. "Maybe you're right. But you're very attractive, Bones. Outside and inside," he added. McCoy grunted to spare himself a comment; he didn't quite trust in Kirk's ability to distinguish the two. "I...should leave, um?" Kirk said, and he nodded. Kirk was already at the door when realization dawned on him. He turned around. "You would've kissed me anyway?" he asked, not able to hide his astonishment. "Also as a man? I thought you were so straight." McCoy folded his hands over his well-formed knees. "Well, I'm pretty straight, but I'm not blind, Jim. And you've always been someone special to me." A faint touch of red brushed over his cheeks. "I see," Kirk said and left, wondering if he'd been the one who had been blind all those years - in many ways. * Two days later, McCoy was entering the briefing room, where Spock was already waiting for his report, with a decidedly frustrated look on his face. He barely gave the Vulcan a nod as he took a seat and threw his padd on the table. Spock tilted his head. Since the transformation, McCoy had been much less emotional than usual, probably because he felt uncomfortable in his new body. So in a way, Spock was relieved that McCoy had returned to a more 'normal' behavior, by his standards. "Doctor, you seem to be irritated," he asked. "May I ask for the reason?" McCoy gave him a brief glance and was about to shake his head, but then sighed. "I might just as well talk to you...you're the only one who didn't -" He stopped abruptly. "Ah well, forget it." Quickly pushing some buttons, he said, "Let's get started with the weekly report. Nothing unusual happening last week, the -" Spock put his hand over McCoy's, noticing his flinching. "I apologize," he said, and pulled back. "Et tu, Brutus," McCoy murmured. "I'm just not used to being handled so differently by my some of colleagues, now that I look like a woman." "I assume it is a reflex in human males," Spock said. "Or men socialized similarly," McCoy said, and met Spock's gaze challenging. "Possibly," Spock agreed. McCoy concentrated on the padd, fidgeting with the dials for a second; then he looked up again. "I'd a drink with Scotty last night. And it was pretty hard to keep him out of my lap." "You always were good friends," Spock said diplomatically. "Yeah, and that status seems to have some weird effects, now that my outside looks compatible to their sexual preference," McCoy said, disgruntled. Spock noticed the plural form, but wisely decided to ignore the implications. "Unfortunately, the probability of the sex change being permanently is 99.95% by now." "Your statistic is buggy, Spock," McCoy said. "If we meet his parents, the probability is a 100% that they'll change me back. Time's not a factor." "But the possibility of meeting them is decreasing rapidly. We have found no way to contact them. They may be anywhere in this universe - or even in another." McCoy shrugged. "Where there's life, there's hope." "Maybe you should adjust to this form," Spock said, instantly realizing that this suggestion was not welcome. "I don't fit in this body, Spock!" McCoy snapped. "I'm a man, dammit. Is that so hard to understand?" He rose from his seat, half throwing the padd into Spock's arms. "Read that report by yourself, Mr. Spock. And if you've questions, don't ask me." With these words, he left the room, almost colliding with Kirk. Giving him only an icy glare, he strode down the corridor with large steps. "What's wrong with him?" Kirk asked Spock through the open door. "The doctor's mind does not agree with his appearance," Spock said. "He is not willing to adjust to the enforced sex change." "I know." Kirk walked into the room and leaned on the table's edge. "But I can't help him. Nobody can beside those aliens." Spock nodded in agreement. "Maybe it would be helpful to refrain from personal approaches, Captain." Kirk frowned. "I'm not sure what you're talking about, Mr. Spock," he said coolly, "and if I would, it's still my own business." He slipped from the table. "See you later," he said, and left. For a moment, Spock allowed himself to feel irritation; then he acknowledged it and resumed his work without giving another thought to his colleagues. * After that day, McCoy tried to fall back to his fake male state for about two weeks, wearing a man's uniform, cutting his hair crop short and stopping everything that might make him look or appear even remotely female. He couldn't remember ever having been so rude to other people - but it didn't work out. And facing himself in the mirror, he knew that with that face and body, nobody could be convinced to accept him as man. He let his fingers drift along his features, feeling as if for the first time his skin, the broader lips and thinner brows, the soft cheeks without any beard stubs. Maybe he should give it a try...but no. He shook his head. This wasn't him, and this wasn't his life. He'd stopped meeting his buddies because they'd gotten on his nerves with their comments and their flirting. And he didn't feel like hanging around with women, either, because he didn't share their themes. Which left him mostly on his own devices today, slowly making him depressed. But that would end now - he would transfer off the ship, get home and some surgery done, and get another assignment. Yes, that's what he'd do. It took him fifteen minutes to write the appropriate transfer request and another ten before he finally sent it. It took Kirk exactly five until he stood in his door. "You really want to transfer?" he said. "Yes." McCoy stood up, facing his captain on the same level. "Why?" "You know why." Kirk stepped closer, and McCoy held his breath as he faced the intense gaze. "Len..." Kirk said, using the more neutral nickname he'd fallen back to instead of 'Bones'. "Why can't we try?" He closed his hands around McCoy's upper arms, left and right, and for a moment McCoy was hard pressed just to fall into those eyes and to remain as he was, female in appearance. But it would be a fake persona who would participate in a fake relationship with Jim Kirk. And he couldn't do that. "Because you're not seeing me, Jim. It ain't my shoulders you're touching, and it weren't my lips you kissed that day," McCoy whispered. "But I see you, Len," Kirk said. "Much better than I ever did in the past. I've known you for so long...that's my only explanation why I missed it." "It?" "This..." Kirk leaned forward, but McCoy twisted out of his grip. "Get out of here, Jim," he said roughly. "Len -" "And stop using that goddamn name!" McCoy snapped. "If you can't use my real nickname, just stop using one altogether." He saw Kirk's wounded eyes, and his anger crumbled. "Jim, please, sign my transfer and let me go," he said more softly. "There's no other solution. I can't keep going like this." Kirk stared at the floor, his shoulders heaving. "If you really want to transfer, I'll sign the request," he finally said. "But I wish we could find some other way." "There's none, short to finding some handy aliens to transform me back." "Alright." With a sharp turn, Kirk left. In frustration, McCoy sagged on his seat - and knocked one of his fragile glasses from the table down on the floor. It shattered into a dozen pieces, much like his own life. With a sigh he knelt down, picking up the pieces of broken glass with his irritatingly slim fingers. Maybe he'd get better along with this body if the Squire hadn't transformed him into some beauty queen - as it was, he felt twice as alienated with his features. The door chimed, and he said, "Come in" without looking up. "Let me help you, Len," Scotty said, and knelt down beside him to collect some pieces. McCoy remained silent, ignoring the nagging thought that Scotty wouldn't have done that for the male McCoy. Soon, it wouldn't matter anymore. "Um, I'm sorry for what happened on that evening two weeks ago," Scott murmured. "I was a tad inebriated and somehow...well. You know I've always liked you a lot." McCoy rose to his feet. "Never mind, Scotty, you weren't the only one with that problem," he said, and walked out into the corridor to throw the glass into the recycler. When he returned, Scott was standing in the middle of the room, his glass pieces lying on the table. "Len..." he said, floundering, and McCoy already knew what would follow. He shook his head. "Scotty, please, don't say anything. I've written my transfer request and will be leaving as soon as possible." "Oh," the Scot said, and fell into a brief silence. "That's really a pity," he finally said. "You're sure about this?" "Very sure," McCoy said, and put the remaining glass pieces into his palm, one by one. "I see." Scott nodded in understanding. "But anyway, what I really came for was that I wanted to invite you to the engineering deck Halloween Party, like every year." McCoy shook his head. "I don't think I'll come." Scott nodded again. "It's alright, Len. I wish I could help you, but..." "Nobody can besides that Squire, Scotty. It's alright." He walked out and threw the other pieces into the recycler too, ignoring some curious gazes from passing crewmen. Behind his back, Scott's steps vanished. * TBC in part 2 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ASCEM messages are copied to a mailing list. Most recent messages can be found at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ASCEML. NewMessage: