Fic: Of Mint Juleps And Firepots (1/1)
Title: Of Mint Juleps And Firepots (1/1)
Author: BradyGirl
Pairings/Characters: Spock/McCoy
Fandom: Star Trek: TOS
Genres: AU, Slice-Of-Life
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Summary: Vulcan and Human is always a winning combination, no matter what universe.
Date Of Completion: March 21, 2009
Date Of Posting: March 24, 2009
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, Paramount does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 660
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Notes: Happy Birthday, icarus_chained, who requested Spock/McCoy! :)
This story takes place in the "Mirror, Mirror" universe.
“It’s about time.”
Spock hid his smile at the sound of the Southern drawl emanating from the darkness of his bedroom.
“Patience, Human.” He loosened his scarf and began unfastening his tunic, removing his gold sash. He wrapped the sash around his hands.
He walked into his sleeping quarters, the cherry-red glow of the firepot illuminating a slim figure in black stretched out on his bed.
“Make yourself at home.”
“Already have.”
Spock continued toward the bed, stretching out the sash.
“Feelin’ frisky, eh?” came the drawl again.
Spock sat on the bed and slipped the sash around his lover’s neck.
“Tal-shaya, Spock?”
“Exciting, Leonard.”
Spock tugged McCoy…up to him. Their mouths met in a kiss.
Spock whispered, “You’ve been in the Saurian brandy.”
“Exciting, Spock.”
Spock smiled as he pushed his lover down to the bed.
& & & & & &
“Pity cigarettes have been passé for centuries.”
Spock nearly snorted. “A vile Human habit, Leonard.”
McCoy laughed, patting Spock’s thigh. “Considering some of your people’s barbaric customs, I’ll take that as a backhanded compliment.” He swung his legs off the bed. “How about a mint julep?”
Spock leaned back against the pillows propped against the headboard. “You are, I believe the term is, a boozehound.”
“Bingo! Unless Vulcans don’t play bingo.”
“We do not.” Spock sounded affronted.
McCoy smirked, opening the liquor cabinet.
Spock’s Vulcan blood cooled, satisfaction settling over him. It was rare for him to feel so relaxed on this cutthroat ship, but Leonard had proven his loyalty.
After all, the alternative was unthinkable.
Vulcans did not deign to talk about their sexual customs outside of their own society, preferring the rumors and speculation to run rampant throughout the Empire, adding to their species’ mystique…and fear. Bizarre sexual practices, coupled with rumors of superhuman Vulcan stamina and inventiveness were useful tools in intimidation and the wielding of power…what of it if some of it was true, for male and female alike?
Pon Farr was a closely-guarded secret, as it made the Vulcan male far too vulnerable to his enemies, but McCoy had figured things out and kept silent without a single threat from Spock, helping him as best he could.
When his time came, Spock needed a warm body. Jim Kirk had been recovering from an assassination attempt, and T’Pring was dead, her plot against him and Spock having been uncovered. She and Stonn had been found dead in bed together, Spock’s clan very efficient, indeed.
Spock was most satisfied with his bondmate. McCoy was intelligent, highly skilled in medical matters, bordering on genius, and possessed a devastatingly sarcastic wit. Tart and ruthless, he was also highly skilled in bed.
A winning combination.
“Here you go.” Spock took the frosty mint julep, and McCoy settled back on the bed with a glass of his own. “It’s been a helluva week. Damned Russians. Chekov learned his lesson but some of his compatriots sure need schoolin’.”
“Which I shall be most desirous to provide.” Spock sipped the drink, the coolness sliding down his throat.
“Jim is one of the best street fighters I’ve ever seen. He dodged that bullet but wasn’t so lucky with a Vulcan-made one.”
“How is he?”
“Better. He’s a tough Irish nut.” McCoy sipped his drink, turning to Spock, eyes glittering in the ruby darkness. “He’ll appreciate your clan’s efficiency.”
“No doubt. Having a man like James Kirk in our debt is most…advantageous.”
McCoy relaxed against the pillows. “You’re the best lay I’ve ever had, my Vulcan friend.”
Spock smiled as he drank. “Vulcans appreciate inventiveness of any species, Leonard.”
Teeth gleamed in the red-hued darkness. McCoy lifted his glass, the cool colors of the Southern drink bleeding red.
“Now that Jim’s dumped Marlena, we should invite him in for some…interspecies collaboration.”
“Excellent idea, Leonard.” Spock’s eyes glittered. “I have some Vulcan…techniques…to tame the golden-eyed lion.”
McCoy chuckled, taking a long drink.
Vulcan fire and Human coolness…a good combination in a savage universe.
Author: BradyGirl
Pairings/Characters: Spock/McCoy
Fandom: Star Trek: TOS
Genres: AU, Slice-Of-Life
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
Summary: Vulcan and Human is always a winning combination, no matter what universe.
Date Of Completion: March 21, 2009
Date Of Posting: March 24, 2009
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, Paramount does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 660
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Author’s Notes: Happy Birthday, icarus_chained, who requested Spock/McCoy! :)
This story takes place in the "Mirror, Mirror" universe.
“It’s about time.”
Spock hid his smile at the sound of the Southern drawl emanating from the darkness of his bedroom.
“Patience, Human.” He loosened his scarf and began unfastening his tunic, removing his gold sash. He wrapped the sash around his hands.
He walked into his sleeping quarters, the cherry-red glow of the firepot illuminating a slim figure in black stretched out on his bed.
“Make yourself at home.”
“Already have.”
Spock continued toward the bed, stretching out the sash.
“Feelin’ frisky, eh?” came the drawl again.
Spock sat on the bed and slipped the sash around his lover’s neck.
“Tal-shaya, Spock?”
“Exciting, Leonard.”
Spock tugged McCoy…up to him. Their mouths met in a kiss.
Spock whispered, “You’ve been in the Saurian brandy.”
“Exciting, Spock.”
Spock smiled as he pushed his lover down to the bed.
& & & & & &
“Pity cigarettes have been passé for centuries.”
Spock nearly snorted. “A vile Human habit, Leonard.”
McCoy laughed, patting Spock’s thigh. “Considering some of your people’s barbaric customs, I’ll take that as a backhanded compliment.” He swung his legs off the bed. “How about a mint julep?”
Spock leaned back against the pillows propped against the headboard. “You are, I believe the term is, a boozehound.”
“Bingo! Unless Vulcans don’t play bingo.”
“We do not.” Spock sounded affronted.
McCoy smirked, opening the liquor cabinet.
Spock’s Vulcan blood cooled, satisfaction settling over him. It was rare for him to feel so relaxed on this cutthroat ship, but Leonard had proven his loyalty.
After all, the alternative was unthinkable.
Vulcans did not deign to talk about their sexual customs outside of their own society, preferring the rumors and speculation to run rampant throughout the Empire, adding to their species’ mystique…and fear. Bizarre sexual practices, coupled with rumors of superhuman Vulcan stamina and inventiveness were useful tools in intimidation and the wielding of power…what of it if some of it was true, for male and female alike?
Pon Farr was a closely-guarded secret, as it made the Vulcan male far too vulnerable to his enemies, but McCoy had figured things out and kept silent without a single threat from Spock, helping him as best he could.
When his time came, Spock needed a warm body. Jim Kirk had been recovering from an assassination attempt, and T’Pring was dead, her plot against him and Spock having been uncovered. She and Stonn had been found dead in bed together, Spock’s clan very efficient, indeed.
Spock was most satisfied with his bondmate. McCoy was intelligent, highly skilled in medical matters, bordering on genius, and possessed a devastatingly sarcastic wit. Tart and ruthless, he was also highly skilled in bed.
A winning combination.
“Here you go.” Spock took the frosty mint julep, and McCoy settled back on the bed with a glass of his own. “It’s been a helluva week. Damned Russians. Chekov learned his lesson but some of his compatriots sure need schoolin’.”
“Which I shall be most desirous to provide.” Spock sipped the drink, the coolness sliding down his throat.
“Jim is one of the best street fighters I’ve ever seen. He dodged that bullet but wasn’t so lucky with a Vulcan-made one.”
“How is he?”
“Better. He’s a tough Irish nut.” McCoy sipped his drink, turning to Spock, eyes glittering in the ruby darkness. “He’ll appreciate your clan’s efficiency.”
“No doubt. Having a man like James Kirk in our debt is most…advantageous.”
McCoy relaxed against the pillows. “You’re the best lay I’ve ever had, my Vulcan friend.”
Spock smiled as he drank. “Vulcans appreciate inventiveness of any species, Leonard.”
Teeth gleamed in the red-hued darkness. McCoy lifted his glass, the cool colors of the Southern drink bleeding red.
“Now that Jim’s dumped Marlena, we should invite him in for some…interspecies collaboration.”
“Excellent idea, Leonard.” Spock’s eyes glittered. “I have some Vulcan…techniques…to tame the golden-eyed lion.”
McCoy chuckled, taking a long drink.
Vulcan fire and Human coolness…a good combination in a savage universe.