Thank you, Kopernik!
Title: My Daughter, the Pornographer Fandom: Star Trek (with a hint of Harry Potter), hints of both TOS and the relaunch. Pairings: Spock/Uhura, Snape/Lupin (yes, really), hints of Kirk/McCoy Rating: PG Summary: Leonard McCoy learns a shocking secret about his teenaged daughter. Note: this is a thank you fic for Kopernik, for all her hard work on Snupin Santa. I hope this little look into the future pleases you.
It was a very ordinary day.
Of course, "ordinary" was relative on a starship, especially one like the Enterprise. After she'd saved Earth during her space trials, it seemed that every planet in the Federation wanted the Finest Ship in the Fleet and Gallant Captain Kirk, Youngest Captain in Starfleet History, to warp in, solve their problems, and warp out to the cheers and applause of the adoring populace. That the Gallant Captain and his Gallant Crew might have other things to do, like an ongoing mission of exploration and cultural exchange, did not really seem to occurred to some of the autarchs, heptarchs, matriarchs, patriarchs, and council presidents named Arch who entreated Starfleet to send the Enterprise every time an asteroid had a funny orbit or a Klingon merchant crew asked for shore leave.
Saving the galaxy on a regular basis was a lot more boring than it sounded. And painful, since being the Gallant Captain meant being chased around and beaten up by aliens, many of them larger, stronger, and a lot more vicious than Jim Kirk had ever expected.
Today had been different. There had been no angry aliens, upset Archs, pirates, would-be galactic overlords, or ugly little dogs with horns and nasty sharp teeth. Oh, there had been the usual - meetings with the department heads, requisitions to be signed, stars to be analyzed - and a strained meeting with the Chief Culinary Recycler over a batch of latkes that had materialized covered with green sugar and shaped like Christmas trees, but unless Jim enjoying the twenty minutes he'd spent beating the crap out of Cupcake during a physical training sim could be considered peculiar, it had been nice and quiet and normal.
Now the Gallant Captain was off duty and looking for dinner. This meant a quick bite in one of the rec rooms, maybe a game of chess with Spock or a few minutes listening to Bones grouse about the latest case of oozing sores. The crispy chicken sandwiches with reconstituted bacon and hydroponic lettuce were pretty good, and somehow requisitions had done something so that they had real coffee for a few weeks, at least for the -
"Captain, a word."
Jim paused just inside the doorway. Spock, uniform immaculate as always, was occupying the table closest to Jim's favorite food station. Uhura, hair down since she was off duty, sat across from him, surrounded by sheet music, scribbled notes, and the remains of a platter of vegetable fritters with two cups of dipping sauce (Jamaican jerk and that plomeek goop Spock preferred, if the smell was any guide). They both looked hopeful, and Jim smiled automatically in response.
"I'll be right with you." He held up a finger as the recycler burbled, beeped, and finally disgorged his meal. He took a life giving sip of the coffee, smiled to himself, and took the third seat at their table. "Mr. Spock, Lieutenant. What can I do for you today?"
Spock waited for Jim to take his first sip before speaking. "Several Terran holidays occur in the next few weeks. We have been discussing a variety of seasonal ways to improve morale by commemorating - "
"What he means is that it's December, at least six holidays are coming up, and we're trying to decide on a list of acts for a holiday concert/talent show," said Uhura. She held up a padd covered with her small, slightly messy notes, Spock's mechanically precise emendations visible in the margins. "We agree on almost everything but wanted your input on a few of the acts."
Jim raised an eyebrow as he tucked into his sandwich. "Input?" he said after he'd chewed and swallowed. "I'm no musician. Uhura knows that. Remember the time I tried the karaoke - "
"Captain, your musical talent, or lack thereof, is not at issue. The inclusion of electric krumhorns is." Spock, as usual, could have been calmly discussing the obviousness of finding dilithium crystals in a warp core. "The lieutenant seems to believe that Mr. FitzWilliam's early music quartet will add to the proceedings. I disagree. We have already reached an estimated running time of two hours, and - "
"He doesn't like krumhorns." Uhura gave Spock a look that was exasperated without being intimate. "The rest of the crew likes what Fitzy is doing."
Scotty, Keenser, and what looked like half of alpha shift in Engineering wandered in. Scotty muttered something about teaching those Texas laddie boys a thing or two about card games as Keenser, a green eyeshadow perched precariously on his eye ridges, hopped onto the largest available table and began shuffling a deck of cards. Keenser blinked, shrugged, and slapped down a hand of Dirty Clubs, Tellarite variation.
"The instrument's tone resembles nothing so much as a Terran kazoo," said Spock. "The Vulcan b'shalit'tr uses a similar principle but is much less abrasive in tone quality. I do not play it, but - "
"First you say 'no' to Gaila, and now this." Uhura scowled. "With all due respect, sir, this - "
"Ensign Gaila is a fine dancer, but Orion females are known to secrete a hormone that is - "
"The two of you are much more qualified than I am to come up with something. Really. I'm sure it'll be terrific."
"I already told you, Gaila wants to sing, not dance, and she'll wear the standard pheremone-suppressant. If we're going to let Deltans recite their poetry, she should - "
"Captain, the crew is restless, bored, and in need of diversion. Deltans do not perform erotic dances in public."
"She's not going to - "
"Seriously, I'm not the person to - "
"Aw, damn it! I'm calling my lawyer!"
The rec room fell silent. Only Sulu and Chekov's multidimensional fantasy waterworld quest game continued to move, intelligent dolphins and sword-wielding dwarves floating lazily overhead as the ship drivers turned to stare at the doorway. Leonard McCoy stormed in, shaking a padd so hard the display flickered like a miniature strobe light.
Jim carefully set down his coffee. Was it too much to ask for one nice, quiet meal? "Bones? Are you all right?"
"Oh, I'm just dandy. Dandy!" McCoy made a sweeping gesture that nearly clipped Chekov on the nose. "Spock, who's the legalman? Of course it's too much to hope we have a real lawyer on board!"
Spock folded his arms across his chest. "Doctor, I assure you there is no need to shout. My hearing is perfect for a Vulcan of my age and physical condition."
"Bully for you," said McCoy. He glared down at Spock. "What about the legalman? I need to sue Jocelyn before she corrupts our daughter any more than she already has!"
"If your wife has committed an illegal act involving your child, you should contact the appropriate authorities on their planet of residence," said Spock. He tilted his head back and regarded McCoy with what seemed to be genuine puzzlement. "The post of legalman is occupied by Mr. Riley. I believe he is currently standing watch in the forward phaser controls, should you need to contact him immediately."
McCoy threw up his hands and collapsed into the chair next to Jim. "Kevin Riley is the legalman? Good God, man, are you out of your mind? He barely knows his way around the cargo bay, let alone - "
"Bones." Jim gave up on his sandwich. "What happened?
"What happened? What happened?" McCoy shoved the padd under Jim's nose. "She's letting Joanna read - read - "
"'The Carey Slaughter Slashfic Holiday Exchange.'" Jim read aloud. "'List your name, date of birth, and preferred pairings, plus up to three prompts for fic or art. Remember, if you're under 18 (or the equivalent for your planet), you can't ask for anything explicit! Stories are due by - ' "
He stopped. "I don't get it. Who's Carey Slaughter? What's slash?"
"It's smut, that's what it is!" Bones stabbed at the display until the words dissolved, flashed, and regrouped into an article on Denebian parasites. "Smut, I tell you! Carey Slaughter isn't gay, and my little girl - "
"Your daughter is sixteen. That is above the age of consent for her planet of residence," said Spock. He held out his hand for the padd. "If I may?"
"Sure! Read it! You might as well!" McCoy groaned as Chekov, who was now all of eighteen, peered over Spock's shoulder. "See what my ex is letting her do? Do you see?"
Jim took a deep breath and sat up straight in his chair. "Dr. McCoy. Would you mind explaining just what is going on and why you're so upset? You can start by telling me who Carey Slaughter is."
"Carey Slaughter is - " McCoy took a deep breath and waved at Spock. "Ask him. He'll know, he knows everything else!"
"Your remark is neither factual nor logical, Doctor. Surely you - "
"Mr. Spock." Jim laid both hands flat on the table. "If you know who Carey Slaughter is, would you mind enlightening me? Thanks."
Spock could have been discussing the price of milk on Capella VI. "Carey Slaughter is the lead singer of a musical group called Carey Slaughter and the Hindu Shochets. They claim to produce 'Hindu/Jewish retro fusion klezmer dance music.' They are very popular among teenage girls on Terra and certain of her colonies."
"Carey - oh yes! My girlfriend Irina liked him. She had a big hologram of him over her bed," said Chekov. "I thought he was ugly with that tattoo of a third eye on his forehead, but I'm not a girl so I stopped looking when Irina and I would get - "
"Thank you, Mr. Chekov," said Spock, slightly too precisely. "'Slash' is a type of fan-written literature that purports to expand upon allegedly homoerotic discourse in popular literature, music, film, and culture." He tapped the padd gently on the side and nodded as the original text was restored. "It seems that Miss McCoy has signed up for a story exchange that pairs Carey Slaughter and one of his bandmates, Donald Beasley."
"That's right. She's supposed to write something where Carey and Donald go on a picnic and feed each other," spat McCoy. "Jocelyn thinks it's cute, says it's a phase! A phase! Our little girl writing something about two guys feeding each other grapes! And bananas! And kissing each other and - "
"Doctor? She's sixteen, right?" Uhura cleared her throat a bit too loudly and visibly forced back a laugh.
"Seventeen next month, as she never stops pointing out. Thinks she knows everything." McCoy stabbed at the padd again. This time the text enlarged long enough for Jim to read something about Carey running his soft pink tongue up and down the ripe, firm flesh of the peeled banana as Donald pelled [sic] a grape and popped it between his lips. "God!"
"It's not bad, Doctor. A lot of girls and women enjoy slash. It's like - " Uhura waved vaguely as she found the perfect words. "Like men enjoying pseudo-lesbian erotica. They know it's not really what same-sex couples do but it's basically harmless fun."
"Harmless? HARMLESS? She shouldn't even be thinking about this, let alone WRITING it!" McCoy had turned an alarming shade of red. "I need to send Jocelyn a letter before this goes any farther. Where's Riley? He's better than - "
"As Lieutenant Uhura has stated, erotica centered on same-sex relations is common among several humanoid species, including Humans, Andorians, Sycorax, and Capellans," said Spock. "Even Vulcan women have their literature they do not speak of to men. I believe my mother occasionally dabbled in it to improve her language skills, although of course she considered this private, as is traditional. Surak's mother founded an important school of - "
McCoy gaped "Vulcans have slash. Vulcans! And they institutionalize it. Why am I not surprised?" He buried his face in his hands. "My daughter, the pornographer. I can't believe it."
Jim finished his coffee and gave McCoy a comradely pat on the back. "Look, it's not as bad as it could be. She's not pregnant, is she?"
"Well, no," came the muffled reply.
"And she's not writing this professionally, is she?"
"Hell no." McCoy dropped his hands and gave Jim a look that could have stripped the shielding off a warp core.
"And she's still doing well in school, right? Top of her class?"
"Well, yeah. Not sure how if she's spending her time doing this, but Jocelyn sent me her last grades and she's right up there." McCoy stopped being angry long enough to beam, if only for a second.
"So you see, it's all right. She's basically just, well - " Jim gave McCoy another friendly pat while he thought of what to say. "She's being a girl. Am I right, Uhura?"
Uhura nodded, slowly. "I think so. She's a good kid from everything you've said, Doctor. I think she'll be fine."
"See, even Uhura agrees with me." Jim stood up and cocked his head in the direction of the door. "I've got some Saurian brandy back in my room. Come on, let's have a drink and you can cry on my shoulder about your little girl growing up too soon."
McCoy blew out a breath. "I guess. Saurian brandy?"
"Got it from the Mesiarch of Mopsos after I decked his Grand Tharpkin during that coup. Remember? Tried to adopt me?" Jim waited as McCoy stood. "Sure hits the spot sometimes."
"I'll bet it does," said McCoy. He gave the padd a dirty look, erased the display, and tucked it under his arm. "What the hell's a Mesiarch, anyway? Or a Tharpkin?"
"Mesiarch is the Terran equivalent for the - "
"That's all right, Mr. Spock. You can tell us later," said Jim hastily. "Come on, Bones. Let's have a drink. I promise you'll feel better in the morning."
"I sure hope so," muttered McCoy as they started for the door.
There was silence for a moment after the captain and the doctor had left. Sulu broke it by asking Chekov if he was ever going to move his secondary Fire Elf. Chekov responded by claiming to be using a move pioneered by the famous Russian wargamer Ivan Nicolaevich Lobachevsky, and within seconds the rec room was back to its normal cheerful chaos. Nyota chuckled to herself and picked up the list of possible acts.
"So, M'Ress has offered to organize an all-Caitian Purr Choir for the intermission, and - "
"Nyota, if I may interject?" Spock drew his eyebrows together. "You are laughing, yet there is nothing humorous in the situation. Dr. McCoy is upset by his daughter's behavior and his former wife's acceptance of the same. Given their friendship, it is only logical that the Captain should offer comfort."
Spock was brilliant, well-educated, and usually much more perceptive than this. Nyota swallowed another giggle.
"Spock, you have an eidetic memory. Think back on the way they look at each other. The way they talk to each other. The way Dr. McCoy reacts every time Jim is injured, at least when he thinks we're not looking. The way Jim - "
"The Captain has a reputation as what humans would call a 'ladies' man.' We have both observed him flirting with women on multiple occasions, including Federation ambassadors and alien females of all ranks." Spock contrived to look mildly disapproving without moving a facial muscle. "To impute that he and Dr. McCoy have a sexual relationship in the face of such behavior is not logical."
This time Nyota couldn't stop herself. When she had stopped laughing, she called up an entry on her padd and shoved it across the table at him. "Here. It's a paper I wrote for a winter elective a couple of years ago on what they call 'textual poaching.'"
"I am familiar with the term," said Spock, somewhat stiffly. "Individuals who greatly enjoy certain works of literature and video entertainment write continuations involving their favorite characters. Most practitioners are female, and - "
"Professor Marisuta gave me an A. She particularly liked the examples I found. They're examples of fan novels about characters from classic 21st century children's literature." Nyota watched as Spock, curious as ever, began to read. "You've read Harry Potter, of course."
"My mother read them to me when I was a child. I quickly pointed out the inconsistencies and illogical - " His eyes widened as he read her first quoted example. "Nyota. Professor Snape did not indulge in 'dirty weekends' with either Sirius Black or Professor Lupin."
"Oh, that's nothing. Here." She pointed to the next quotation. Spock's eyebrows nearly disappeared beneath his hairline. "That was one of the best ones I found. It's a long piece about Snape and Lupin living as Muggles in the British countryside, with plenty of characterization and detail."
"They play early simulation games and read Jane Eyre to each other," murmured Spock. He leaned closer to the screen. "Fascinating."
Nyota watched him read for a few more moments, then returned to preparing the final cast list for the holiday show. Later, when they were alone, she could tell him about the slash she'd written as a teenager about two favorite singers.