The bar was a nice touch. Leonard had all but decided that if he was stuck here with these assholes for eternity, this little hole in the wall bar would be his home-away-from-home. The bartender didn't like him much, but everyone seemed to be giving him that look, as if they were hoping he was someone else.
Whoever their Leonard McCoy was, his shit apparently didn't' stink.
He didn't know how long he'd been there, but sometime during that last hour, Collins walked in. Well, their version of Collins. Always a hot little number, she had the prettiest set of tits he'd ever seen on a woman since Jocelyn. Liked it rough, too, didn't cry or anything when he used his teeth.
Leonard reached behind the bar and grabbed a glass, ignoring the protesting glance of the bartender. Pouring a generous glass, he wandered over to where she was sitting, and held it out. "Thirsty?"
The glass appeared in her line of vision just as she hit send, making Paula blink and look up. "Oh." She hadn't seen the other Leonard yet aside from a glimpse across the mess hall, but she'd heard plenty. Most of it was probably just gossip, she'd decided. "Thank you." Paula tucked her communicator away and accepted the glass, eyeing him as she did. He looked... different. Something about his eyes. She wondered just how alike he and Leonard were.
"I won't ask you how you like it here," she told him with a faint smile. "Or how you know what I like to drink."
"I don't think anyone would be surprised that I want to go home," he told her, setting on the chair next to her. "But - I imagine there are worse places to be. And I even have my friends here," he nodded at her with a smirk, "even if its still like meeting new people, all over again."
Taking a deep swallow of his bourbon, Leonard's eyes traveled over her quickly before he answered. "I know a lot about you, Paula dear. At least, I know a Paula Collins, and I know her really well." His expression said that he was pleased with all of that knowledge, deep and intimate as it was.
"That's natural," Paula agreed. She shifted in her chair, crossing her legs as she lifted her glass and took a sip. "That there are," she told him. "We have a good crew, all in all. But it must be strange, seeing all these familiar faces and not actually knowing any of us." She could only imagine how hard that must be
( ... )
Jim was in his ready room when his console beeped. His conversation with Guinan a few days before had left him feeling unsettled, but so far they hadn't been able to discover anything about the other McCoy's universe. The man himself had been on the quiet side, minding his own business and, as far as they could tell, staying out of trouble. He still felt a nagging (okay, overwhelming) sense of distrust for the man, and when he scanned the alert from Security Jim felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Attempted override on deck ten, guest suite five.
"What the hell," he muttered, recognizing that suite instantly. McCoy. Jim stared at the message a moment longer, then pulled up the security logs and accessed the record for the room. It was currently locked. Unremarkable, but for the entry at the top of the list. Override: Collins, Lt. Cmdr. P. Status: Failed-insufficient clearance.He cursed as he heaved himself to his feet and crossed the room in three long strides. Jim didn't know what was going on, but worry was
( ... )
His hand exploded in pain at that bite, and Leonard was about to bring down another blow to her head to shut her up when the door opened. Suddenly, there was someone else there, tackling him, slamming him into a bookshelf and onto the floor, and for a moment Leonard forgot where he was, half-wondering if Jim wanted in on the action too.
"Fuck, Jim, there's 'nough to share," he mumbled, drunkenly pushing Jim off of him. Damn, asshole might have broken his rib.
They landed in a tumble of arms and legs against the bookshelf, and Jim felt a glancing blow on his mouth. Whether it was intentional or just luck, it pissed him off even more. "Shut up," Jim barked, grabbing McCoy by the shoulders and shoving him back down hard.
His vision was clouded in red as he pinned the other man to the floor, the smell of bourbon and blood heavy as he glared down at him. Something warm and sticky covered his lip, and he felt the deep throb and the sting of split flesh but ignored it as he leaned over McCoy. "I don't know where you're from, and I don't fucking care. You're on my ship now, and you fucked up," he hissed.
Fuck... fuck, this was getting out of hand. Kirk, this Kirk, this place, not his home. Mad as hell. Fuck no, he didn't look like he could talk his way out of this one. "Captain, no, its not..." Kirk's lip was bleeding, murder in his eyes and Collins was off in the corner, crying like a bitch. "C'mon, Kirk, we just came in for a little fun, ya know?"
He pushed himself to standing, trying not to show how much his side hurt. "Just got a little rough, nothing bad." Another glance at her, whimpering over there and he leaned into Kirk. "She came in here, she wanted it too."
While Spock cleared McCoy's body out of the doorway, Jim crossed over to where Paula remained huddled in the corner. Sometime in the last few minutes while they had been occupied she had slid down the wall and was sitting in the floor, her knees tucked up and her head buried in her folded arms. He crouched next to her, one hand reaching out to rest lightly on her shoulder, and found that she was trembling.
"Paula?" Jim kept his voice quiet and reassuring, his hand rubbing her shoulder in small circles. "It's okay. You're safe." He slid his arm around her small frame, ready to help her get on her feet. "Can you stand up for me? We need to get you to Sickbay." His eyes took in the broken fingernails on the hand nearest him and he felt that cold fury inside him again, that someone would dare assault one of his officers. And that it had to be Paula and this other McCoy... he clenched his jaw.
It was over, but she couldn't stop shaking as the last half an hour or so replayed in her mind. Paula heard Jim's voice but it sounded faint, like he was across the room rather than kneeling right next to her, and she felt strangely numb. His hand on her shoulder was soothing, though, just light, slow circles that gave her something to focus on besides the images in her head.
After a moment his words registered and she let him coax her upright. She leaned against him, feeling unsteady on her feet, and tried to straighten her clothes, but her hands were clumsy and slow. Her fingers couldn't seem to work properly, and then she caught a torn nail on her shirt and hissed, a low, pained sound that surprised her.
"Shh," Jim quieted her. He caught her hand and lowered it to her side, worried by her silence, and reached up to touch her chin, catching her eye. "I'm going to help you, all right?" His hands were careful as he tugged her shirts down, the blue tunic torn at the hem. The fastening on her pants was broken, making them rest low on her hips, but with her shirts smoothed into place she was more or less covered.
His right shoulder ached where he'd tackled McCoy, so Jim tucked his left arm securely around Paula and reached for his communicator with his right hand. "Kirk to Sickbay," he called. His voice sounded weary and hoarse even to his own ears. "Two incoming."
Comments 35
Whoever their Leonard McCoy was, his shit apparently didn't' stink.
He didn't know how long he'd been there, but sometime during that last hour, Collins walked in. Well, their version of Collins. Always a hot little number, she had the prettiest set of tits he'd ever seen on a woman since Jocelyn. Liked it rough, too, didn't cry or anything when he used his teeth.
Leonard reached behind the bar and grabbed a glass, ignoring the protesting glance of the bartender. Pouring a generous glass, he wandered over to where she was sitting, and held it out. "Thirsty?"
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The glass appeared in her line of vision just as she hit send, making Paula blink and look up. "Oh." She hadn't seen the other Leonard yet aside from a glimpse across the mess hall, but she'd heard plenty. Most of it was probably just gossip, she'd decided. "Thank you." Paula tucked her communicator away and accepted the glass, eyeing him as she did. He looked... different. Something about his eyes. She wondered just how alike he and Leonard were.
"I won't ask you how you like it here," she told him with a faint smile. "Or how you know what I like to drink."
Reply
Taking a deep swallow of his bourbon, Leonard's eyes traveled over her quickly before he answered. "I know a lot about you, Paula dear. At least, I know a Paula Collins, and I know her really well." His expression said that he was pleased with all of that knowledge, deep and intimate as it was.
Reply
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"What the hell," he muttered, recognizing that suite instantly. McCoy. Jim stared at the message a moment longer, then pulled up the security logs and accessed the record for the room. It was currently locked. Unremarkable, but for the entry at the top of the list. Override: Collins, Lt. Cmdr. P. Status: Failed-insufficient clearance.He cursed as he heaved himself to his feet and crossed the room in three long strides. Jim didn't know what was going on, but worry was ( ... )
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"Fuck, Jim, there's 'nough to share," he mumbled, drunkenly pushing Jim off of him. Damn, asshole might have broken his rib.
Reply
His vision was clouded in red as he pinned the other man to the floor, the smell of bourbon and blood heavy as he glared down at him. Something warm and sticky covered his lip, and he felt the deep throb and the sting of split flesh but ignored it as he leaned over McCoy. "I don't know where you're from, and I don't fucking care. You're on my ship now, and you fucked up," he hissed.
Reply
He pushed himself to standing, trying not to show how much his side hurt. "Just got a little rough, nothing bad." Another glance at her, whimpering over there and he leaned into Kirk. "She came in here, she wanted it too."
Reply
"Paula?" Jim kept his voice quiet and reassuring, his hand rubbing her shoulder in small circles. "It's okay. You're safe." He slid his arm around her small frame, ready to help her get on her feet. "Can you stand up for me? We need to get you to Sickbay." His eyes took in the broken fingernails on the hand nearest him and he felt that cold fury inside him again, that someone would dare assault one of his officers. And that it had to be Paula and this other McCoy... he clenched his jaw.
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After a moment his words registered and she let him coax her upright. She leaned against him, feeling unsteady on her feet, and tried to straighten her clothes, but her hands were clumsy and slow. Her fingers couldn't seem to work properly, and then she caught a torn nail on her shirt and hissed, a low, pained sound that surprised her.
Reply
His right shoulder ached where he'd tackled McCoy, so Jim tucked his left arm securely around Paula and reached for his communicator with his right hand. "Kirk to Sickbay," he called. His voice sounded weary and hoarse even to his own ears. "Two incoming."
Reply
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