There is no time. No time to process, no time to grieve. Steve pushes the horror, the guilt, down into the pit of his stomach, a lead weight that would crush him if he allowed it.
The noise from the array distorts, changing in frequency as the light flares up, painfully bright. Steve turns away, shielding his eyes, and sees the Borg on the walkway before him move stiffly, its head still bowed.
It slowly rises, lifting its head. The red laser sighted by its right eye strobes across Steve’s face as it turns towards him.
It was human, once. It’s eyes a shade of blue that Steve hasn’t seen in half a lifetime.
“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying drawled. Wei Ying leaned forward further until he put his hands flat on the Captain’s desk and pushed himself to standing. The skin was smooth now, Wen Qing had regenerated the bruised and torn skin from their escape and subsequent stranding in the Delta Quadrant. But Lan Zhan had seen the hurt there before it was wiped away. “Maybe you don’t see me as your First Officer at all.” He cut his eyes up to look into Lan Zhan’s. “Maybe you don’t want to. Maybe you want me to throw over all of these command responsibilities and it can just be me and you inside of my mind, just how you like…Imzadi.” Lan Zhan’s breath caught, an invisible stutter in the regular ordering of Lan Zhan’s functioning. Wei Ying slid his hands forward, body following. Wei Ying was leaning over the desk, fingertips close to Lan Zhan’s but not touching. They could be. If Lan Zhan reached out.
“You are my First Officer.” Lan Zhan kept his hands where they were, pressed so hard into the desktop that his wrists felt the strain.
This is absolutely my new favourite Star Trek AU! I can’t believe I never realised how apt the premise of Voyager is in regards to the cultivation world vs. Yiling Laozu conflict. Also, this is just plain amazing storytelling – culminating in the hottest telepathic blowjob ever!
“Don’t you think declaring me unfit for command is a little extreme?” Jim pushes forward in his chair, picking up the datapad and reading it in a glance. When he looks up, however, he doesn’t seem surprised. “Huh. I was actually joking. So it’s this or Starfleet Medical, huh? Your people wouldn’t like that at all.”
“There is a time,” Spock says slowly, taking the chair across from Jim, “for discretion. And then there is a time for the necessary.”
Jim drops the datapad.
“This is the necessary.”
Jim nods grimly before closing his eyes and taking a careful breath. “If you touch me,” Jim says slowly, “I will kill you. Or you will have to kill me. Do we understand each other?”
When his alternate first arrived in a scrambled transporter beam two weeks ago, Jim was excited to meet him and combine their powers for the forces of awesome. Actually, first Jim ordered him quarantined, polygraphed, and tested for alien DNA, but he should have known the guy would hack his way out of the brig, and by the time he emerged again, clothes inexplicably torn and whiskey eyes somehow deadened, Jim knew he was who he said he was and instead of excitement, he felt a creeping disquiet about the man.
“And you haven’t remembered anything since then? About yourself? Or about others, like me?”
He shakes his head and spreads his hands in an apologetic gesture.
Two days for him, one for me. For a moment the panicky feeling is back. What if we never find out who we are? What if…
“I am glad that you are here.”
The quiet admission shakes me out of my misery, and spontaneously I put my hand on his arm.
“Me too. I don’t like to be alone.”
He moves then, not Bones nor any ghost of my imagining, but him, real and alive and moving toward me in the dark.
I’m holding my breath, not realizing I’m doing it until I hear him, a rustle of heavy fabric so faint I wouldn’t hear it otherwise. I can feel him close to me. I want so badly to reach out that it hurts, a physical ache somewhere inside of me, but I can’t, I can’t. Because if I do and there’s nothing…
He touches me, the brush of fingertips on my bare arm.
Spock’s reply of “No, Doctor” came just a fraction of a second too late, raising all sorts of red flags in McCoy’s brain. “The bond between T’Pring and I was exclusive. The breaking of that bond through the kahli-fee should have short-circuited my body’s… urges.”
“Well, obviously, it didn’t,” McCoy grumbled. “Spock, your hormone levels are up again, and rising. Your little fainting spell on the planet is proof that your body is starting to crack under the strain. A few more like that, and you won’t wake up. You know better than I do how close you are to….” He couldn’t finish the sentence.
Spock nodded, and finally met his gaze. “But without a bond, I cannot mate.”
“Well, that leaves us in a right pickle then, doesn’t it?” McCoy could feel his blood pressure spike. Spock couldn’t be thinking of just letting this happen, just letting himself die! Damn stubborn Vulcan son-of-a-bitch….