HypGnosis by Holmes
Star Trek TOS, S/Mc
Archive: Okay to Spock/McCoyote Den, DoctorFuhQFest, and ASCEML. Others just ask. I'm nosy, and want to see your site.
Category: Humor, PWP, somewhat AU, m/m slash
Dedicated to, and written for: Janet, AKA PlatoHomer, world's most avid Spock/McCoyote!
Warning: NC17, Slash, issues of consent. Just trust me. Scary, this isn't.
Disclaimer: I don't own them, and I'm not making any money from them at all, so that means the Paramount's the whore, and I'm the slut, in case you're confused.
Synopsis: McCoy decides that Kirk and Spock need to relax. Spock's the hard case, as usual, so McCoy tries hypnosis on him.

Those who believe that K/S is the 'One True Pairing', hit delete now! ;-)

Feedback: Sure, as long as you're not one of those 'One True Pairing' folks who forgot to hit delete! LOL! Send to: holmes1053@yahoo.com

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Once again, Captain James T. Kirk and Commander Spock had nobly and courageously sacrificed their own needs to save the universe; and once again, I was gonna be forced to kick their sorry, noble, courageous asses for it before they ruined their health. Those two never know when enough's enough, damn it! They've saved the universe often enough that they should know that when the hard part's over, it's time to send in the second string to take care of the petty details, but, oh no, not them! After all, the President of the Federation might forget to dot an 'i' on the treaty, even though he's negotiated so many of 'em that he could do 'em in his sleep, and it's his damned job, not theirs.

I try not to take it personally, but there are times when I think those two **try** to ruin their health just to get me riled up, and this was one of those times. It pissed me off just to look at them; they looked so haggard. They both had deep, dark circles under their bloodshot eyes; their cheeks were sunken in; their skin was a sickly, pale color; and their uniforms hung on 'em so baggy they looked like a couple of four year olds wearing Daddy's clothes. God only knows when they'd eaten last, and I'd bet my medical license that Jim hadn't slept two hours out of every 24 for the last six months, and Spock even less.

Well, I'd had a gut full of watching them slowly kill themselves, and decided to take action. I made a few calls to the right people, and made them see it my way, which meant Jim and Spock didn't have a snowball's chance against me. I was ready, and went looking for 'em. The computer showed that they were still in the Captain's ready room, and that they didn't have company--not that it would have made any difference to me if they'd had any--so I commed them. "Captain Kirk and First Officer Spock, report to Sickbay on the double, and that means **now**!" I nearly fell over dead when they did exactly that. First time for everything, I guess.

"Reporting to duty, as ordered, sir," Spock said dryly as he walked in, and I'll be damned if he didn't salute me. Trust a Vulcan to pick exactly the wrong time to develop a sense of humor.

As if that wasn't bad enough, Jim walked in right behind him, and pissed me off even more with his smart alecky "Oh, yes **sir**, me too, Bones." He kept looking at Spock, and acting like he was about to bust a gut laughing.

Smartasses.

If they thought they could get to me that easily, they had another thing coming. I just took them at face value. "At ease. Come into my office, and sit down, gentlemen."

They exchanged puzzled looks, shrugged, and followed me into my office. In spite of the fact those two obviously didn't take their doctor seriously, I noticed that they wasted no time in collapsing wearily into the chairs I'd provided, and looking up expectantly at me. I decided take advantage of it by not sitting down. I thought it'd do 'em good to look up to me for a change, and besides, I needed to do everything I could to convince 'em that I meant business so they'd take better care of themselves.

After the appropriate dramatic pause, I let 'em have it. "As of right now, you're both relieved of duty until I say otherwise," I said, enjoying the shocked looks they both gave me.

Spock raised his eyebrow so high that I think it climbed over his head, and crawled right down his back. Heh. Some days, I just love my job.

I couldn't afford let down my guard, though, and enjoy myself too much at Spock's expense. Jim was already firing up that temper of his to give me a piece of his mind, and I had to cut him off fast.

"No arguments," I said, leaning over him, getting in Jim's face. That was something I'd never done before, and it surprised the both of them so much, I think they actually listened to me. "I've already cleared this with Starfleet Medical and the brass, and they agreed with me. You two need to rest, or you'll be no damned good to anybody, and I'm personally gonna see to it that you get it. I didn't call this meeting for you to question my orders, but I will give you some choices about how you get to follow them. Do we understand each other?"

Now remember, I said they listened to me; I didn't say they made it easy for me to help them. I think at that moment, they'd both rather have died than answer me. They both just crossed their arms, and stared at me like a couple of teenaged punks, daring me to say anything else so they could tear it apart with either unassailable logic on Spock's part, or an inspirational lecture on the virtues of self-sacrifice and suffering on Jim's.

Hah.

Those boys just didn't know who they were fooling with. I pushed a cartload of their favorite goodies right under their noses, and waited for temptation to do my dirty work for me. Spock merely straightened up, and gave me a cold, supposedly unemotional stare, but I could see that Jim was salivating to dig in. I turned around, and pretended to pace my office to find the right words to say, so that Jim would have a chance to sneak a couple of his favorites 'without me knowing about it'. Sure enough, munching sounds let me know that he'd taken my bait. Now, I was the one who could barely keep from laughing, but I kept my back turned, and picked up an old fashioned medical book, pretending to look for just the right reference so Jim could keep snitching food, and chowing down. That strategy was working pretty well too, if I do say so myselfthat is, until that damned Vulcan butted in.

"Pardon me, doctor," he said. "If you have nothing further to discuss with us, we need to"

"Haven't you been listening? You're off duty until further notice, and you don't get to do a damned thing until I tell you to do it! Right now, what I'm telling you to do is take care of your health," I interrupted. Let me tell you, I barely stopped myself from giving into the urge to thump Spock on that thick, Vulcan skull of his. The man just doesn't know when to shut the hell up. "Now, eating right is the first step, and I suggest you follow your Captain's lead, and dig in, while we discuss the other steps you're gonna take."

For someone who claims he has no emotions, and believes it's illogical to express them, Spock has an awfully expressive face. I bit my lip to keep from laughing at the look he gave Jim. He couldn't have accused Jim better of being a traitor to the "get McCoy's goat" club if he'd pointed his finger at him, and said it out loud. Jim looked guilty as hell, but after an apologetic look, and one of those dazzling smiles of his, Spock seemed mollified, even if Jim did have the nerve to hand him one of his favorite snacks, Terebolian flavor spheres. Anyway, Spock took it, and munched on it as delicately as if he had to ration it to last, and there weren't a couple hundred more right in front of him. And he says humans are illogical. I took two, and polished them off in short order to let him know what I thought of that. He raised that eyebrow of his again, and though he didn't exactly wolf them down, he stopped nibbling on 'em like a geriatric mouse with bad teeth.

Satisfied that they were at least eating healthily for the moment, I went to phase two of my plan. "While we eat, we'll discuss ways for you to get rid of that tension you've built up over the last six months. Now, I can fix the physical tension you've got stored in your muscles with a couple of hypo sprays, but the mental tension is what's worrying me. If you don't take care of that, your muscles are going to go back to being as tight and knotted as they were before the hypo sprays."

"Vulcans do not experience mental tension," Spock interrupted. "Our mental discipline exercises and meditation practices are excellent"

I'd seen that coming, and I'd planned for it. I held up my hand for him to shut up, and said my piece, even though I knew Spock might make me pay for it later. "Yes, they are, Spock. They'd work just fineup to a point if only you'd stop long enough to do them, but you haven't stopped working long enough to practice any of them, and I frankly don't trust you to do them. Every time you've told me you would, you've gotten distracted by something or other, and done that instead. Until I can trust you both, I'm going to supervise the exercises you choose to recover from stress."

"What happened to you giving us choices about the way we follow your orders?" Jim said with that dangerous smile he gets when he thinks he's found a weakness, and can swoop in for the kill.

"Nothing," I said. "You still get a choice on what methods you want to use to relax. What you **don't** get a choice about is whether or not to do them at all, or whether or not I'll supervise you." I gave Spock a glare as I went on. "And, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, I've got a shipload of remedies for stress. Some are Starfleet approved, and some I learned from my Granny's knee. You can take your pick. Here's one that I"

"Excuse me, Doctor, for rudely interrupting once more," Spock said gravely, "but I would be most interested in the wisdom that your grandmother's patella had to impart."

That time Jim did bust a gut laughing, and Spock looked mighty pleased with himself for a Vulcan. I was sure he'd come up with some logical--and totally improbable--excuse for not understanding human idiomatic expressions, so I didn't even bother to point it out the obvious. After all, the man had a human mother who used them, and an ambassador for a father who was cosmopolitan and smart enough to understand them since he worked with humans. You can't tell me they didn't teach him every damned expression there was to know! Smartasses. I felt like a substitute teacher stuck with a class full of juvenile delinquents, but I wasn't gonna lose my temper. In the first place, I wasn't about to give Spock the satisfaction, and in the second place I had the serenity that only comes with knowing how to be a crazy son of a bitch, and get away with it. I chose something that I thought would be so outlandish by Vulcan standards that it'd make Surak rise from the grave, raise his robes, and run for Mount Sileya.

"Fine with me, Spock," I said. "My granny was a big believer in the powers of hypnotism. I presume you've heard of hypnotism?"

"Yes, and of shrunken heads and medicinal uses for leeches," Spock replied, in that oh-so-subtly superior, smug Vulcan way of his that he reserves just for me.

Yep, it was payback time for insinuating that his all-mighty Vulcan methods were anything less than perfect, and we both knew it, and so did Jim. Poor ol' Jim was shaking his head, and making the cut off sign at both Spock and me, trying to stop the fight before it started, but we ignored him. Funny how Spock switches teams in the middle of the game some times, but that's Spock for you.

Anyway, Spock had forgotten all about Jim, and was deep into the game. "I have always suspected that you came from a long line of witch doctors. Do your grandmother's methods include the usage of sacrificial poultry?"

"You know better than that," I said, hardly able to keep a straight face at that sorry attempt to distract me from my mission. "Any reputable scientist will tell you that hypnosis is a valid method of inducing the relaxation response. C'mon, Spock, admit it. You're just afraid to try it."

"Vulcans do not experience fear, Doctor," Spock said wearily. "I merely do not see the logic in submitting myself to hypnosis. It is a procedure, which depends upon taking advantage of the eccentricities of the human brain for its success. Since I am not human, my brain does not function in the same manner; and therefore it would be an inefficient use of the time of all concerned to perform such an exercise with me. In fact, I estimate that the chances for attaining desirable results to be"

"Now why are you in such an all fired hurry to give me that estimate?" I interrupted, trying to sound as innocent as I was the day I was born. "Aren't you the one who told me that Vulcans consider it illogical to form a hypothesis before taking into account **all** of the available data?"

Spock frowned, and turned toward Jim, his eyes plainly showing his confusion. Jim still hadn't forgiven him for switching teams on him, and did a little side switching himself.
Jim gave him his most seductive look, not the one he reserves for big-breasted blondes, but for men. He looked at him from under his long eyelashes, and smiled slyly. "What Bones is trying to say, Spock," he said, "is that you're forgetting you're half human. Go on; indulge him. You'll do fine. You won't do anything under hypnosis that you normally wouldn't do."

"Yes, so Professor Riatymor said when she demonstrated the phenomenon at the Academy, " Spock said dryly. "Until that moment, I had not realized that so many humans **normally** clucked like chickens."

I rolled my eyes, and decided to push Spock just a bit harder. "Aw, don't waste your breath, Jim," I said as I went over, and patted him on the shoulder. "I've got a bottle of the elixir of the Kentucky gods in my desk. Why don't you and I go to your quarters, and have a shot or two?"

For just a moment, I was afraid that I'd pushed him too hard. Make that scared shitless. I could have sworn that I'd seen a flash of rage in Spock's eyes before he regained his usual outward calm. "I did not say that I refused to undergo hypnosis, Doctor," he informed me stiffly in no uncertain terms, "merely that I did not see the logic of it."

"I stand corrected," I said. I could afford to be generous since I got my way, and well, I'll admit it, I never wanted him to direct that look at me again, and was doing my best to make sure of it. "Shall we move this party to the biobed?" Seeing that eyebrow of his shoot up, I knew I had some explaining to do. "I just want to make sure that you're at least extremely relaxed when I start making my suggestions," I said quickly. "I've never hypnotized a Vulcan before."

He sat up straight when I said that, and stared at me avidly. I almost suspected him of experiencing some deep emotion, and I returned his stare with equal intensity, hoping for a clue to what was going on in that convoluted brain of his, since he'd never tell me outright. I never got one, of course. He just relaxed, and smarted off as usual. "I feel it is my duty to warn you that admitting that one has never before performed the procedure upon the species one has just convinced to undergo it, does little to recommend said procedure in the eyes of said species."

"And I feel it's my duty to inform you that pissing off one's doctor before said doctor performs said procedure isn't all that highly recommended either!" I snapped back. "Now, lie down on the table, get comfortable, and shut up!"

"I would be far more comfortable in the sitting position," Spock said, looking insufferably serene. "I fail to see the need for the biobed since Ms. Riatymor never used one, and I am quite capable of informing you when I have relaxed. As a Vulcan"

"Spock, don't even start with me. Lie. Down. On. The. Biobed. Now." I punctuated my order with a slap to the biobed, and glared at him.

Spock just stretched that lanky body of his out on the Biobed, and stared straight at the ceiling. "Is this satisfactory, Doctor?"

"It'll do," I said with a nod, and plopped down on a stool beside the biobed. "Now close your eyes, and relax. You're getting very sleepy"

That should have been easy enough, but oh no, not for Spock! He popped up like a jackrabbit, and informed me, "On the contrary, I am exceptionally alert."

I gritted my teeth, and pushed him gently on his shoulders until he took the hint, and lay down again, and started over. "If I say you're getting sleepy, you're getting sleepy!"

That should have been that, but I'll be damned if he didn't prop himself right back up, and argue with me! "But I am not; therefore, your statement is false."

That did it! He'd pushed me until even Surak wouldn't have blamed me if I'd decked him. "Don't argue with me, you green-blooded son of a bitch!" I snarled, and pushed with all my strength to try to force him back down on the biobed, even though it was as hopeless as me trying to push the Himalayas down. "You know damned well that when a hypnotist tells you 'you're getting sleepy', you're supposed to try to get sleepy, and the reason you're supposed to try to get sleepy is because the hypnotist can't hypnotize you unless you shut up and relax, so shut up, and relax before I THROTTLE you!"

By this time, every vein on my neck was standing out as if they wanted to throw themselves around Spock's neck, and strangle the bastard as much as I did. For his part, Spock was as irritatingly calm, and as unmoving as ever, as if he knew that he'd pushed nearly every one of my buttons, which he had, damn him! He cocked his head, and raised his eyebrow, and in his most annoying, nonchalant way, he pushed my last buttonthe big, red one marked 'Danger'. "Really, Doctor? Then why did you not ask me to 'try to get sleepy' in the first place?"

Spock just lay there with the shadow of a smirk playing about his lips, waiting for me to start swinging at him.

Fortunately for his thick skull, Jim picked that moment to have a giggling fit, and I turned all my frustration on him instead. I swear; if a saint ever had to deal with these two, even he'd be driven to take off his halo, and thump 'em a good one. "What the hell are you still doing here? Isn't it past your bedtime?"


I glared at Jim, and he went all wide-eyed and innocent, and looked to Spock for support. Evidently, he didn't get it, because Jim took one look at Spock, and gulped. I knew right then and there that Spock was just as pissed off as I was, even though I wasn't sure why, not until later.

Anyway, Jim looked at Spock and me, and sorta hemmed and hawed out an apology. It was kinda weird watching him. Never have seen Jim that flustered before. Of course, if I had known that I was about to make a jackass out of myself by spouting out the foolishness he did, I would have been flustered too. "I'm, uh, sorry, gentlemen," he stammered. "It's just that I, ah that, well, you knowyou two remind me of Amanda and Sarek."

Well, you could have heard a nanoprobe drop after he said that. I looked at Spock, and saw that **both** of his eyebrows had shot up, a sure sign of shock for him, and I got a little bug-eyed myself. I don't know what either of us had expected, but it sure as hell wasn't that. Jim had the grace to look embarrassed, and gave us one of his wide-eyed and sheepish, "you don't think cute, 'lil ol' me really meant anything by that, do you" smiles, but I don't think Spock was any more capable of responding to him than I was, and all I could do was gawk.

Our flabbergasted stares flustered Jim even more. He's not used to looking like a jackass in front of his officers and crew. Acting like one is a different matter, but that's a story for another time. Anyway, he started mumbling, and carrying on again. "Well, you two DO act just exactly like the Ambassador and his wife when they're arguing, and" Then his voice trailed off, and the muscle bound idiot cleared his throat, and **still** kept trying to explain himself as if he'd said something that had made any sense. "Look, I didn't mean toI mean, I, ah, well, you knownever mind. Carry on. I was just leaving," he whispered, and finally, blessedly, shut up, and slunk the hell out of my Sickbay.

I gave him a curt nod to acknowledge this wise move on his part, and turned my attention back to Spock. "Now, where were we?"

"You alleged that I was getting sleepy," Spock said. That "alleged" business stuck in my craw, but I ignored it.

"And I'm confirming that you are," I agreed as soothingly and gently as I could, trying to get us both into the mood. "Just listen to my voice, and follow my instructions, and relax."

Spock nodded gravely. "I shall."

"Just listen to my voice, and follow my instructions**quietly**," I corrected, "and don't respond unless you I tell you to."

Spock didn't reply; just looked up at me expectantly, ready to follow my instructions.

Now that was more like it! It wasn't everyday that I got Spock to be this compliant, and I couldn't wait to begin! Since he always kept his quarters pitch black whenever he meditated, I lowered the lights down to 20 percent, and since I didn't want anyone interrupting us, I engaged the privacy lock. Not that there was much chance of that. Most folks were smart enough to take advantage of shore leave, and were already on the starbase having a good time, which is where I would have been if I hadn't been saddled with two stubborn, heroic jackasses to tend to. Still, better safe than sorry.

I sat down beside Spock to begin the induction, determined to bypass that literal minded streak he loves to inflict on me when he wants to be hard to get along with.

"Close your eyes, Spock," I said, smiling as he obeyed again without argument. Now don't you worry; I won't go off on another tangent about how much I enjoyed him having to do what I said without him mouthing off some fool nonsense about shrunken heads. It wasn't like that. Oh, I can understand why you'd think I'd have hard time making myself to get down to business too because I'd enjoy my new found power over him too much. I thought I would too.

But I didn't. I stopped gloating about my so-called power over him the moment he closed his eyes.

Spock's eyes were his defense against the world, and they didn't miss a trick. When they closed, I realized just how much he **must** have used those ruthless eyes of his to intimidate me into avoiding looking at him as much as he possibly could. It was the only possible explanation I could come up with for the plain and simple embarrassing truth: I hadn't observed him with anything like my usual professional meticulousness, so I'd missed symptoms that would have shamed a first year med tech to have missed. My God, I could actually **see** the muscle spasms in his neck, and even in his hands! They must have been hurting like a son of a bitch, and I figured that his back muscles must be in as bad a state, or worse.

I cursed myself for not giving him a complete physical first, and dosing him with a hypo spray chock full of painkillers, but it was too late to change treatments now. The exam and hypo sprays would just have to come later. He'd just use any change as an excuse to fight me. Oh, I'd get to do the exam and give the hypos all right--I had him by the short hairs-- but I'd probably need a few hypos myself by the time he got through arguing with me.

I closed my eyes, and took a few deep breaths to recover my composure so that my tone of voice would be as gentle and soothing as possible to him, and began again. "Spock, we're going to start with some breathing and visualization exercises. These exercises are purely a matter of using your imagination to enhance the human half of your immune system. They are not to be taken literally, or analyzed. They'll be far more effective if you just concentrate on doing them the best you can. Don't worry about doing anything against your will. You'll be perfectly able to refuse to perform any action which is contrary to your moral code."

Spock seemed to loosen up considerably after I said that. It kinda hurt to think that he believed that I'd actually make him betray his moral code, but I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, and let it be. Even Vulcans were entitled to have a case of nerves at the doctor's office without having to take a load of crap from their doctor about it. I just kept on going, and willed myself to sound even calmer and relaxed than I felt.

"When you do these exercises, I want you to do them at a nice, slow and steady pace so that your visualizations have time to become vividly real to you," I said, slowing my rate of speech to emphasize my message. "That's what's gonna give them the power to heal you. It'll be so easy just listen to the sound of my voice, and follow my instructions, and feel good."

Upset as I was, I still couldn't help smiling as his eyebrow shot up when I said it'd be easy to do what I told him to do. Trust Spock to find a way to smart off without even opening his mouth! To give the devil his due, I did deserve it--and more-- and he was still doing what he was told like a good patient. His eyes were still closed, and he'd slowed down his breathing in synchrony with my words.

But those spasms just kept on going strong. Even though he was as pokerfaced as ever, Spock's hands would ball into fists after a particularly intense spasm. I was beginning to take it personally, as idiotic as that sounds, and gave it everything I had. "Just inhale deeply and slowly, and as you do, imagine that you are inhaling a beautiful golden light, which transmutes the air you breathe into the most soothing, healing air you can imagine," I said, my voice beginning to sound just like Mama's did whenever she took care of us kids when we were sick. "It makes you feel warm, and comfortable, and safe, and you want to inhale it so deeply that that you feel that warm glow throughout your body. You're doing just fine."

Well, maybe not fine, but I'd give him an 'A' for effort. I'd hoped that his Vulcan discipline would have helped him respond much, much faster; but thought maybe he was just trying to respond the way a human would, since, from his point of view, hypnosis was a strictly human treatment. I sighed, and fished a few lozenges out of a nearby drawer, and hoped I'd be able to put him under before my throat gave out. I leaned down to whisper in one of those pointy ears of his that he's so proud of, and tried again.

"Now exhale, and when you exhale, imagine that your muscular stress and tension, and all of your inhibitions to feeling good are being exhaled along with your breath," I said, trying to keep my voice steady in spite of the rush of emotions I felt at seeing his neck muscles spasm yet again. "Just keep going, and each time imagine that the positive effects on your body are increasing with every inhalation and exhalation."


Well, I kept this up for something like a hundred inhalations and exhalations, and you can't imagine how frustrated I was by this point. He was doing his best to follow my commands, and he wasn't showing nearly enough improvement for me to even begin the main part of the session. His muscles looked just like they were spasming at warp eight, instead of warp nine. He made me hurt just to look at him. It was definitely time for another induction method. Even as I continued the golden light induction, I thought about every single other induction method I knew. I wondered idly which would be the most effective, and imagined me doing each one with Spock, making him feel profoundly and pleasurably relaxed.

I was so busy imagining them that I didn't notice my subconscious had come up with an unconventional induction method of its own until Spock sighed deeply and contentedly. Let me tell you, that sigh yanked my head out the clouds in a hurry, and when I realized what I'd been doing to cause it, I went rigid from the shock: I'd been absent-mindedly caressing and massaging Spock!

I can't even begin to tell you what the hell had gotten into me to make me do something unprofessional like that. I could understand why I'd instinctively start massaging him--massage is a first-rate therapy for muscular stress--but caressing him? God no! The hell of it is, even after I realized what I was doing, I just kept on massaging and caressing him. I had absolutely no control--It was like watching myself in a dream that I couldn't wake up from--and I wasn't sure if I wanted to wake up either. The dream felt too good, and I hated how good he felt: incredibly warm, soft, furry skin, hard muscled body, and--

It was then and there I realized that what I'd been afraid of happening ever since I laid eyes on Spock had happened. I'd fallen in love with yet another emotionally distant, highbrow who was only going to use me until his daddy and momma married him to a woman in his social class. Even if they didn't, I knew damned well that he'd drop me the nanosecond Jim crooked his little finger at him. I'd done my best to keep Spock at arm's length so this would never happen to me again--but I also had to admit I tried to make sure he was **never** more than at arm's length. You'd think that I would have learned my lesson by now, but I just couldn't stop touching him. He felt too good, and deep down inside, I'd wanted this for far too long. I was shaking, but I kept on massaging him, sliding my hands under his shirt, flicking my thumbs over his nipples, and watching him arch up as I did, hoping that maybe deep down he had wanted this as much as I had.
I only stopped when I remembered the fuss that Spock always kicked up when somebody touched him---even to help him--then I yanked my hands back in a hurry. I just held them in front of my face, and stared at them, unwilling to believe that they were my own. Shame replaced disbelief when the enormity of what I'd just done hit me--I'd done the unforgivable. I'd molested my patient when he was in no shape to defend himself against it. I'd molested my friend--the man I didn't deserve to love. As far as I was concerned, I'd disgraced myself, my friendship, my ship, my captain, my profession, and my family. I didn't know what else to do, but let the man I'd victimized punish me for what I'd done. It wouldn't make up for it--nothing could make up for a breach of trust that grave--but he at least deserved some justice.

"Spock, please forgive me," I said, my voice shaking from the shock and shame of what I'd done. "I don't know what the hell's the matter with me. If you want to press charges, I'll understand. Ah what the hell, I'll just go to Jim right now, and turn my--"

I never got to finish that thought. Spock roughly grabbed my wrists, pulled me half on top of him. He never was one to accept an apology, but getting physical without being under the influence of some drug or alien being was new for him--and scary as hell for me. Those dark eyes of his glinted with fiery intensity I'd never seen there, and I no longer knew if he was in control of himself. In the state he appeared to be in, there was a damned good possibility that he might even hurt me, intentionally, or not. His next words made me feel that I was not only right about that, but that he was going to toy with me before he did it.

"It appears you and I have a misunderstanding," Spock said. "Fortunately, I have released all of my inhibitions about resolving it." I wish you could have heard him. He made that voice of his sound as smooth as the silk in a spider's web, and just as sinister in intent. I think the man could read the duty roster, and make it sound ominous. The worst of it was, I recognized those words, and where they were from, and it wasn't looking good for my continued health and well being.

"Let me go, damn it!" I said struggling to get out of his grasp. "You're hypnotized, and you don't know what the hell you're talking about! You're just repeating my suggestions. Now, I don't blame you one bit for wanting to kill me, but let Starfleet punish me! Beating the tar out of me is only get you in trouble too!"

Spock just clamped down that much harder until I gasped with pain, and said one of the few Vulcan words that I understood. "Kroykah!"

As near as I can tell, that's Vulcan for 'You better stop what you're doing right now, or I'll drop kick your sorry ass onto a duranium spike.' Now don't you go quoting me on that. I'm just going by the way everyone froze when T'Pau said it during Spock's botched up excuse for a wedding. Anyway, even if my translation was a little off, I knew that I was still in big trouble. Whenever a man stops speaking Federation Standard, and reverts to his native tongue, I know I'm just a step away from getting my ass kicked, whether a duranium spike is involved, or not.

I reacted accordingly.

I stopped squirming, and tried the logical approach--with a good dollop of honey on it, as much as it killed me. "C'mon Spock," I wheedled doing my best imitation of Jim 'you **know** you want to do what I want' Kirk. "I need to bring you out of your trance so you can think clearly. It wouldn't be fair of me to talk to you about anything other than what we agreed to while you're under a trance. Just let me go, and I'll bring you out, and we'll talk then. I promise. And I'll get you a hypo for those spasms."

Before I knew it, Spock had me flat on my back on the biobed, holding my arms by my wrists over my head with his left hand. He pressed his body on top of mine, and grabbed my chin with his right hand, forcing me to look at him. "Unnecessary. I am not in need of your noxious potions, and as I tried to warn you, hypnotism has no effect whatsoever upon the Vulcan mind and body; however" he said as he leaned down so close that his lips brushed my ear, "Vulcan mind control disciplines do. They also appear to work satisfactorily on humans."

"Huh?" I said. I started to lecture him about denying his human side, and taking Vulcan stoicism to extremes when I noticed that Spock's muscles weren't twitching in the least. As the full impact of that, and of what he was saying hit me, I could feel my face turning red as my mama's tomato garden in summer. Everything made sense now. I hadn't noticed his spasms **before** he lay down on the biobed because they weren't there. He'd used a Vulcan mind/body control technique to make them appear afterwards. What really galled me was that he'd just as much as admitted that I felt compelled to touch him because he'd used his Vulcan mind voodoo on me. The whole damned time I'd been feeling so guilty about what I'd done to him that I was ready to resign my commission, he'd been the one making me do it. All I wanted to do was hit him so hard the points fell off of his ears. "Why you sneaky, underhanded, Vulcan son of a bitch!" I shouted, trying to lunge at him. "You scammed me!"

"Yes," he replied nonchalantly, "which should have been painfully obvious to you since I did warn you that hypnosis had no effect upon the Vulcan mind. Logic would dictate that I had to have an ulterior motive for consenting to such a futile procedure."

That really pissed me off! I lunged again, and got another crushing squeeze to my wrists, which hurt like hell, and I began to rant, hoping that something, anything, would hit a nerve. "Damn you, stop rubbing it in, Spock! This all about you getting even with me for pulling rank on you, isn't it? Isn't it! I worry myself to death over you two, and what do I get for thanks? I get an overgrown Vulcan smartass who gets his rocks off makin' a fool out of me! You're not gonna try to justify this with logic are you? Because if you are, I'm here to tell you that there's no way in hell you're gonna be able to, and "

Spock interrupted me with another squeeze. "The answers to your questions, in the order asked are: No, it is not; it is not; you will find out what you will get soon enough; and I concur," he said, not even breaking a sweat from holding me still. The man didn't even have the goddamned decency to sweat, and he was too chicken shit to at least give me the satisfaction of winning another argument about his blasted Vulcan logic! That's what got to me the most, because it showed a serious lack of respect for me.

"What do you mean you concur?" I yelled, "Then how the hell do you justify making me think I'd violated my professional code of ethics?"

"Since that was never my intention, I will not. Did you realize that you are telepathic?" he asked, cocking his head like a curious bird. If I hadn't been so pissed off I would have laughed.

"NO, and that's because I'm not," I snarled, struggling to free myself. "If I were, do you think I'd be in this position?"

I only succeeded in settling Spock's legs in between mine. If I didn't want to do the splits, dangle my legs over the side of the biobed, and hurt like hell from thigh muscles being stretched too far, I had to wrap my legs around his, which I did. It didn't take long for it to soak in just how compromising **that** looked, and I could feel myself blushing again, and I gave up struggling to save what little of my pride I had left. "I can't read your mind, Spock, no matter what you say," I said, sagging in defeat, "but I wouldn't mind knowing what makes you say I can."

"I did not say that you could," he said, lifting his eyebrow, and drawing back as if I'd sprouted pointed ears of my own. "Telepathy is more than just a matter of, as you put it, 'reading minds'. Telepaths can send their thoughts as well as receive those of others. It is called broadcasting."

I could feel the blood draining from my face as he explained what he meant, and my mind was in panic wondering how long I'd been broadcasting my thoughts, and just how he'd use what he'd learned. Obviously, he would use it to irritate the shit out of me because that's what he was doing now, but for what else?

Then another thought hit, me and I practically spat at him when I said it. "I broadcast my thoughts? Damn it, Spock, just when were you going to let me know that I was doing this? If you can hear them, then you sure as hell knew that I didn't know I was broadcasting!"

"Yes, I knew that you were unaware of your talent," he said placidly. "It is most impressive, by the way---and I assure you that I told you about your ability not long after I discovered it."

That stopped me cold. In my mind, I ran through all of the possible times that day that I could have broadcast my thoughts, and found more embarrassing moments for me to have done that than I cared to admit, particularly during a few lonely nights in the shower. I still had to know what he knew, no matter how humiliated it would make me feel. "You did?" I said in a small, shaky voice. "When exactly did you discover it?"

Spock paused dramatically until I thought my nerves would snap before he answered, and when he did, his voice was low, dark, and seductive. "Tonight, while you were conducting your imaginary induction sessions. They were so vivid and focused that you initiated a low level link between us. I could not resist the urge to complete it."

"That **I** initiated," I repeated dumbly. "Not you. Why don't I remember any of this?"

"Yes, Doctor, you," Spock nodded. "I can only surmise that you don't remember because your abilities function on an unconscious level most of the time. That would explain why you are as unaware of your influence upon me as you are of mine upon you."

That left me more confused than ever, but there was no doubt in my mind that he was serious. I shook my head to clear my mind, and tried to get him to explain what he meant. "Let me get this straight. You mean to tell me that those perfectly innocent imaginary inductions got you so hot and bothered that after you linked with me, you decided to make me"

"No," he said, staring feverishly into my eyes. "I had a far more compelling reason for inducing you to act out your desires. You have been broadcasting a voluptuous sensuality for weeks. If the crisis had not been so grave..."

Oh God. That explained why he jumped me instead of the man he loved, Jim Kirk. I was flustered, to say the least. I was still in shock over discovering that I had developed my psi abilities to this level without realizing it, or I would have figured out what Spock was driving at. Instead, I wondered if he wasn't hypnotized after all. I was sick at the thought that once he got his marbles back, he'd hate me for causing him to be unfaithful to Jim. "I'm sorry, Spock," was all I could manage to choke out.

I must have sounded like hell because Spock's attitude changed at once, and concern for me shone in his eyes. "You did nothing to be ashamed of, Leonard," he said, surprising me as much by the use of my first name as by the tenderness of his voice. "This would have happened sooner or later. I was prepared to take advantage of any excuse to be alone with you. I wanted to investigate you thoroughly."

"Investigate me?" I said. If I looked as confused as I felt, I must have been the poster boy for bewilderment. This was definitely not the Spock I was used to. "Why? What did I do?"

He leaned down, and nuzzled my ear, and licked it, and I felt shivers run up my spine. "You made me burn for thee." Spock he whispered, emphasizing his words by bumping his erect cock into mineand my eyes flew wide open as I finally I understood what he'd been trying to tell me. No wonder he'd used Vulcan mind control on me to make me caress and massage him. I'd inadvertently induced a mild Pon Farr state, and that meant he wasn't any more responsible for his actions than I had been! "Shit, Spock! I had no idea I caused you to go into Pon FarrI-I don't know what to say!"

"Then be silent," Spock murmured into my ear, "and when I release your wrists, raise your right hand, and press it to mine."

I did exactly what he said without arguing for a change, even though that felt downright unnatural. I'm glad I did. I'll never forget that moment for the rest of my life. You know the feeling you get after you've been tromping through the snow for hours, chilled to the bone, and then you come home, and sit in front of a blazing fire, and drink a cup of hot chocolate? That's how good it felt. The moment my hand touched his I felt his heat radiating into me, filling me, covering me, and I wanted that warm, happy feeling to last forever. I couldn't say how long we stayed like that. We were lazily contented just to be with each other, and drink each other in with our eyes. It was all I had ever wanted, and more. Spock dark eyes gazed at me with sweet passion, and I just melted into that gaze, losing myself in it, allowing the outside world to fade from my conscious awareness. When Spock began to slowly move his hand away, I murmured anxiously in protest, "Don't go."

"But I have so much more to give you. Permit me?" he whispered, looking at me so earnestly and tenderly that I couldn't resist him.

I nodded, and slowly, he began to stroke my index finger with his first two fingers of his right hand. The warm, cozy feeling gradually transmuted into long, lazy, sensual tingles that went straight to my groin, making me hard. I just closed my eyes, bit my lip, and let those incredible tingles flow through me, and become my entire world. My first thought was, if this was what he could do to me by just touching one of my fingers, I wasn't going to live through his lovemaking. My next one was, how can Vulcans look so calm when they're doing this to each other when it felt this good? "Damn, Spock!" I blurted out. "I can't believe your momma let your daddy do this to her in public!"

"There is a high probability that it was she who insisted upon it," Spock said as he sent a particularly delicious wave of sensation to me, making us both shiver, "but I must admit that your assumption is equally probable. For a Vulcan, sexual union with a human is the most intensely pleasurable sexual experience possible."

"Mmmmmmm, I'm glad to hear it," I purred, "because this human thinks this feels too damned good to be legal."

"Indeed?" he said, and smiled affectionately at me with his eyes. "I am most gratified to hear that the pleasure is mutual."

He lowered his face to mine, and began kissing me, long, slow, and sweet, and the unexpected tenderness and eroticism of it made me fall even more in love with him than I already was. My joy mingled with sadness: this might be my only chance to make love with him. I thought for sure that he'd leave me one day for my best friend and Captain, Jim Kirk, and if I allowed myself to think about it, it'd break my heart. I decided if this were to be my one chance, I'd live every moment of it, and to hell with wasting it by worrying about the future. I put my heart and soul into returning Spock's kiss, determined that in later years, I'd at least be the reason for the occasional mysterious smile on Spock's face that Jim would never figure out. When he began to moan into my mouth, and buck against me, I was triumphant.

Panting, Spock pulled back from the kiss, his dark brown eyes so dilated they were black. "Fascinating," Spock said. "Your talent for erotic empathy is most impressive. I have never experienced anyone who could intensify and broadcast eroticism to such a high degree. On Vulcan, you would be much in demand with unbonded males, and very well paid for your services."

I nearly laughed my ass off when he said that, and can you really blame me? If you'd told the Enterprise crew that Spock and I would make out like teenagers in my sickbay, and that he'd think that I had the talent to be a first-rate Vulcan hooker, they'd laugh themselves sick. "That was a good one, Spock," I gasped out between laughing fits. "Who knew that Vulcans made jokes, and talked dirty during sex?"

Spock drew back, and frowned at me. "I never make jokes," he said gravely, giving me a tap on the nose with his index finger, "and I speak from experience. Some of the most desirable sex workers are older than you are, and they are desirable because their erotic psi skills far surpass those of their younger colleagues. The best of them are able to stave off plak tow for months, if necessary, and very pleasantly as well. Your skills surpass them all." While my mouth was still hanging open from that confession, he pushed himself up, and off of the biobed.

The thought I could have said something to stop this beautiful experience had me panicked. My need for him was growing stronger with each second, and I couldn't bear being out of contact with his body. I sat straight up, and tried to pull him back. "Spock!! Don't go! I wasn't making fun of you; I was making fun of me!"

Spock stepped out of my reach, pulled off his shirt, and placed it neatly on the next biobed. "It is illogical for you to assume that I would leave sickbay when I am out of uniform," he lectured calmly as he folded his arms.

That was pure Spock. He'd never tell me not to worry about screwing up, but he'd do something to let me know he was willing to give me a fresh start. "Thank you," I said, and reached out for him again, wanting to feel the comfort of his warm, lean body.

Spock stayed out of reach, and calmly gave me my orders. "Strip."

He didn't need to tell me twice. Now, I know how stupid this is gonna sound, but you've gotta remember that my blood was flowing the opposite direction from my brain, so I wasn't flying on all thrusters. I pulled off my shirt with no problems, but my pants and underwear just refused to come all the way off, no matter how hard I tugged. I felt Spock's hands gently pull my hands away from my pants, and hold them. I looked up, startled, wondering what the hell was wrong.

His lips twitched for a few moments as he looked into my eyes, holding both of my hands. "Logic dictates that it is preferable to remove your boots before removing your trousers, Leonard," he said gently, as he pulled off my boots, and then my socks, and placed them neatly on the floor, the proper sock in each boot. "You will find that you will be able to disrobe far more efficiently."

Smartass.

"You can't expect me to think after what you've been doing to me," I said as I pulled off my trousers and my briefs at the same time. I threw them on top of my boots and socks, and laughed as Spock raised his eyebrow, and folded them up for me. "You can do the laundry later," I said. "C'mere." Then noticing that he hadn't taken off anything but his shirt, I pointedly stared at his trousers, and added, "Looks like you've got some unfinished business to take care of. Lemme help you undress."

Spock raised his eyebrow, and stared back just as pointedly. Slowly, he unzipped his trousers, and pulled out his erection.

I'd seen Spock nude before--on a strictly professional basis, of course. I'm a doctor, not a Peeping Tom! I already knew that his cock was green, double-ridged, and inhumanly large, but I'd never seen him with an erection before. He could have filled a cargo bay with that thing.

I looked at it, and gulped.

He looked at me, and smirked, damn him.

"I am now undressed," Spock said, and gave me a look that would have been right at home on the face of a pirate contemplating just how he'd ravish the virgins-male and female-of the ship he'd boarded. Just figures he'd be power hungry and kinky in the bedroom.

He smiled like the very devil himself, as though he'd heard my thoughts, and he probably had. "Yes, I did, and yes, I am," he agreed, and pulled me forward until my bare ass was sitting on the edge of the biobed. "That is your doing, my Leonard." He took me into his arms, and began kissing me, and those tingles just got more and more intense, and just coursed through us both, making an endless circuit of ever increasing sexual tension and need.

I wrapped my legs around him, and I pressed myself against his body, craving more and more contact, as I let him deepen the kiss, and moaned into his mouth. The soft cloth of Spock's trousers now felt sensuous as it slid over my naked skin, and I felt downright wicked to be naked and uninhibitedly carnal while he was clothed and in control. I began to rub up and down, and caress every part of his body that I could reachthose ears that fascinated and annoyed me, just like him; his beloved face, his strong back, and beautiful ass. When my weeping cock ground into his, I arched up, and moaned again into his mouth.

My mind was in a haze of pleasure, when Spock broke the kiss to nibble and lick his way up to my ear, and whisper, "Your body will accept my entrance easily. It will allow you to have as many orgasms as you wish, but will not allow you to come until I tell you. I assure you that it will be worth the wait."

"I don't know how to have an orgasm without--"

"Unnecessary," Spock interrupted. "Your body will obey me."

He slipped his hands underneath my ass, and lifted me up as if I were a rag doll, and when he gently lowered me onto his erection; it slid inside me as though I'd been made for him. He felt hot, slick, and huge inside me, and my entire body celebrated his presence with thrills of pleasure. Spock carried me around the room effortlessly, thrusting in and out of me hard. With every stroke in I had an orgasm that intensified as I once again became aware of how his trousers felt against my bare ass, and with every stroke out I had another. I had so many that I lost count. I just kept having them, and each orgasm surged through my body like a flashflood through the desert, and my body shuddered helplessly from the power of it, and all I could do was hang on, and moan my pleasure, as he relentlessly pounded into me, until at last he grabbed my cock, and ordered, "COME!" Oh, god. I stiffened, arched my back, and screamed and screamed and screamed my orgasm was so violent and ecstatic, and I collapsed against him as he bellowed, and came as hard as I did.

Afterwards, he sat me back down on the biobed, and just let me lean against him. Every muscle in my body was trembling, and I still was having aftershocks of pleasure that, during any other sexual encounter, I would have called full-blown orgasms. All of my emotions were jangling to the surface faster than I could deal with them: raw love, despair, jealousy, and desperation. I looked up at the face of my lover, a face that had held only tenderness as we made love, and now it stared back at me as fiercely as any predator had ever stared at his prey. I could only wonder: Was this it for us? Was I just a convenient body? Would he just get dressed, walk out, and act like it never happened?

None of the above, as it turned out. I would have never guessed that he'd do what he did.

Spock was breathing heavily as he grabbed my chin so I couldn't look away, and he glared at me. "Can Jim give you orgasms like that?" he rasped. "Do you think you'd feel this way with him? Answer me!"

I didn't grasp the significance of what he said immediately. My blood was still flowing in the opposite direction of my brain, and my emotions had built up to the "warp core breach in ten seconds" level. In short, I let him have it. "How the hell should I know?" I snapped, struggling ineffectually to get out of his grip. "You're the one fucking him, not me, you hypocritical son of a bitch! What's the matter, Spock? Is your guilty conscience getting to you? Does accusing me of what you're doing make you feel better?" I would have kept this up until he let me go, but to my absolute horror and shock, I felt tears welling up in my eyes. I wanted to run away, or at least bury my face into his chest so that he wouldn't see them, but I couldn't because he wouldn't let go of my chin. I was forced to look at him, and show weakness in front of the man. I've never felt more exposed in my life.

For a moment or two, Spock just stared at me wide-eyed like I'd just slugged him. Then his expression changed into a puzzled frown, and he cocked his head, and leaned forward as though every word I'd say would be of grave importance, and he didn't want to miss a word. "I do not understand," he said. "Why would you think that I was fucking Jim? I thought it was quite obvious that you were the one who interested me."

That just floored me. I peered up at him cautiously, just to make sure that he wasn't being sarcastic because I was hurting too much to take even a small risk. Oh, he was serious all right. I'd never seen the man looking so genuinely befuddled in the time we'd known each other, but I couldn't believe that such an intelligent man could be so slow-witted that he could miss the obvious. "You idiot!" I said, unable to hold back my fragile emotions. "How the hell would I have known that? All I knew for sure was that every time Jim came to my office for any reason other than ship's business, you were sure to find some damned flimsy excuse to show up. Not more than an hour ago, you were pissed off at me for wanting to have a friendly drink with him. To me, that's the behavior of a man who's afraid I'm going to steal his lover."

Spock eyes went wide, and he got the same expression that my mother had when I told her that I didn't know who'd broken the window with my ball. He released my chin, and gripped me by the shoulders. Hard. "You are truly the most illogical human I have ever met!" he said far more heatedly than I'd ever expect from a Vulcan. "Your lack of reasoning skills is only surpassed by your lack of observational skills. Jim is my friend, and my brother, and I have never considered him to be other than that. It would be obvious to even the most casual observer that I could not stand for Jim to be around you because I thought **he** would steal **you** away from me, and that I made flimsy excuses to come see you whether Jim was there or not. Furthermore, I have spent much of my spare time on your projects, which I have never done for anyone else. I have never given any cause for mmph--"

Yep, I was the cause of that mmph, but don't worry, he loved it. That rant of his may not have sounded romantic to you, but to me it was a Shakespearean love sonnet with a bouquet of red roses. I jumped up, and interrupted it with a passionate kiss on the lips, and grinned sappily at him. "I love you too, Spock," I said softly.

"And I, you," he said, cupping the side of my face. "Get dressed, my Leonard, and come with me to my quarters. I wish to discuss bonding with thee."

Well, I did, and he did, and I said yes. When we consummated our bond during shore leave, it was the most beautiful experience of my life, but that's another story. Anyway, there's no way that I can pretend that I'm anything but head over heels in love with him any more, and I think even Spock would have trouble pretending otherwise, himself.

Damn, I'm getting ahead of myself, as usual.

After we'd decided to bond, we went to the Captain to tell him, and get his permission to go on an extended shore leave together immediately due to the volatile nature of Vulcan bonding and Pon Farr. We knew that he'd give us permission, but we were both curious about how Jim would react to **that** shore leave request, given the reputation Spock and I had for trying to kroykah each other every chance we got.

You'd think the bastard would have at least given me the satisfaction of saying, 'I can't believe it! Hell must have frozen over' when we told him about our bond, but Jim didn't even bat an eye. He just smiled that insufferably charming, know-it-all Jim Kirk dimpled grin, and said, "It's about time, gentlemen. I can't wait to tell Scotty that he owes me a bottle of 25 year old Scotch."

Smartass.

The End