Fic: Needs Be Met 1/? StarTrek XI
Title: Needs Be Met Author: Lopaka Tanu Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek. Characters: Spock, Uhura, Chekov, Kirk, McCoy, Sulu. Words: 5133 Prompt: Spock's driven by instinct to find a mate. Fandom: Star Trek: Redux Pairing: Spock/Chekov, Spock/Uhura Rating: Adult Warnings: Language, Angst, Alien Biology, Sexual Situations, Violence, Unfinished, Unbetaed. Summary: Beset by dreams and strange reactions, Spock's first few days of the new mission aren't going so well. Author's Note: This contains Vulcan Anatomy as I imagine it, only the parts we aren't told about though. Canon is still canon. Will be finished soon. ______________________________________
"This hath cast suspicion and doubts upon your judgment." Her silver hair held back in intricate folds, the Vulcan Priestess appeared immaculate and unmoving. The ornate chains of silver discs on her robes glisten in the flickering candle light. "What explanation have you?"
For a moment the younger woman appeared ready to speak. A quick narrowing of the elder's eyes silenced her. Lowering her gaze, she took a calming breath.
Raising her head slightly, the elder cast a quick glance to her right. The young woman's mother would not meet her gaze. "Thou have brought disgrace upon your family."
The young woman flinched as if struck. Lowering her head further, she clutched the child in her arms. "I apologize. It was not my intention..."
"Your intentions do not matter, only actions. What thou have done is finished and cannot be undone." Raising her pole, she slammed it twice against the floor of her litter. As it was lifted off the ground, she looked to the child.
Alien blue eyes stared back at her.
A fine tremor ran through the old woman's form. "Dispose of the abomination." One gnarled finger pointed at the baby. "Only then will thou be allowed to rejoin your family."
The young Vulcan's mouth dropped open in horror. She could no longer hide her emotions behind her practiced stocism. Holding the baby against her breast she turned to her mother.
But the grandmother of baby would not face her daughter. She turned her back to them. Holding her head high, she started off after the litter.
In the young mother's arms the baby started to fuss. Stunned she could only hold him.
Clutching at his mother's robes, he began to tear up. By the time she tightened her hold he was already shrieking. His terrified screams echoed in the ancient chambers.
~~~~~ Two Months Post Vulcan ~~~~~
Moist lips caressed the tip of his ear sending a warm shiver through him. Pleasure prickled up his spine. He groaned under the assault. Fingers spasming, he reached for her.
"The time is now fifteen hundred hours."
Spock frowned. His hands slipped, finding no purchase upon a hot body. Blinking open his eyes, he saw through the dark of his quarters. It was then he realized there was no one else with him.
Closing his eyes, he exhaled through his nose. On an urge, he slid a hand beneath the covers to his regulation briefs. An exploratory finger found what he already knew to be true. His fVrenic flap had retracted.
Sighing with a little distress, he pulled his hand back. This was much harder than it should have been. The urge to run his fingers over the tight fold of skin was incredibly strong. Because of this reluctance he put more force of will behind the neural command to his muscles.
That was not going to happen. He was not a pubescent boy any longer.
"Computer, lights. Medium Illumination." After giving the command, he sat up in the bed. With more than a little satisfaction, he noted the flap had expanded once more. He was ready to begin his day anew.
~~~~~~~~
He was in the middle of dragging the towel over his chest when the comm beeped at him. Curious, Spock turned to glance at it. There were very few who would interupt his morning rituals.
Wrapping the towel around his waist, he exited the head. The moisture on his body ran down to drip off as he walked. Heading to his desk, he reached out for the computer. There, Spock turned on the audio feature only. "Commander Spock."
"Hey, there, beautiful. About time you woke up." Nyota's voice was rough, a tired growl from long use. "I have just been relieved by beta-shift. Do you have time for a breakfast beverage before you go on duty?"
Spock looked down at himself. The front of his body was still damp. "I am not presentable."
She chuckled as if she could see his actions. "Don't worry about that. If you want, I can bring one to you." The volume dropped to a whisper. "I just want to see you."
With a slight exhalation of resignation, he nodded once. "Very well." The moment the words were out of his mouth the chime on his door sounded. Narrowing his eyes, he glanced to them. "Let me surmise, that is you."
Her throaty chuckle echoed over the comm.
~~~~~~~~
It took a conscious effort not to shiver as he walked through the corridors of the Enterprise. After the heat in his quarters this was almost unbearable. While the optimal temperature was kept at all times, those levels were below what he considered comfortable. They made him long for the robes of his people.
Still, he was a StarFleet Officer, and thus must wear the uniform. It was his duty, even if it were uncomfortable. This was something he would deal with on an unconscious level in time. There were many adaptations he had made since he had left Vulcan.
Spock hesitated for point, zero-two-four seconds in his forward momentum. The action through off his stride. He adjusted quickly enough that there was no physical discrepency. At least, no one who was not a Vulcan would notice.
Continuing on, he headed for the turbolift.
His shift began in exactly fifteen minutes, thirty-two seconds. Punctuality was a necessity for the smooth flow of ship's operations. Every part of the whole must meet its obligation for harmony to be achieved. Though it was difficult, especially with humans, this was not impossible.
At the lift doors he carefully stepped to the side while he waited for it to arrive. His forethought was rewarded when the doors slid open. He was out of the direct path of the two crewmen as they stepped off the lift car.
Neither of them noticed the silent commander as they walked down the corridor. Heavily involved in their conversation, the continued on without a moment's hesitation.
Part of Spock's trained mind thought this to be rude. In the very least they should have acknowledged his existence. As their superior officer, he was due that much. Their ignorance was a very bad sign for this mission.
Five years was going to be a very long time.
Stepping on the lift, he looked up at the graphic interphase. "Bridge."
He was acknowledged by twin beeps from the console. As it should have. It was functioning as programmed.
An unusual bit of emotion tugged at him, he would have almost called it a moment of spite. That would be impossible, though. Vulcans did not feel spite. The doors closed behind him as he folded his hands behind his back.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Stepping off the lift, Spock glanced to the chronometer. The time difference was appreciative. These lifts were fractionally faster than they had been two months ago. Apparently the modifications Lieutenant Commander Scott had made were functioning above efficiency.
Turning his attention to the bridge crew he made quick assessments. There was nothing out of the normal that he had come to expect from them. Even the Captain was behaving within defined parameters.
Leg thrown over one arm rest, Kirk leaned half out of his chair. He spun it to face the first officer with an expression unbefitting him. "Oh, thank god!" He sat up immediately.
Cocking his head to the side, Spock raised an eyebrow. "Captain, is there a problem?" If he could have felt it, he would have prided himself on keeping the disdain out of his voice.
"No." Kirk stood up. Shaking his head, he tugged on the front of his golden shirt. His eyes were a little wide. Body seeming to twitch with nervous energy, he at least maintained his calm. "Absolutely nothing. Nothing at all."
A snort came from up near the conn.
Spock was certain he knew the man behind it, but let it slide for a moment. He addressed the other man with a critical gaze. From the lack of tells, the man was not on any substance that might impare his judgment. That indicated the problem was internal. He had a small suspicion. "First day jitters, sir?"
"Kinda." Raising his right hand, Jim brought two fingers before his eyes. Holding the thumb and index finger a few centementers apart, he watched Spock through the gap. "Just a little."
"I see." He did. In fact, Spock had been expecting this. That was why he had arrived fifteen minutes early.
"Oh, I don't know about that." And just like that, the cocksure grin was back in place. Dropping his hands to his waist, Jim twisted his head with an appreciative grin. "This is going to take some getting used to, for all of us."
"As you say." Spock started for the Captain's chair. On the way a short blonde woman met him. A little admiration filled him as she held a tablet for him. He scanned the reports the Yeoman had compiled for him. "Very impressive, Crewman."
Kirk smirked. "Oh, she definitely is that." Letting his eyes travel the woman's body, he gave her a bold grin.
Entering his confirmation code, Spock handed it back to her. He leveled a glare at Kirk. "Her job skills are thorough." There was a tiny hint of rebuke in his voice. Continuing to the Captain's side, he blocked the other man's view of the Yeoman. Lowering his voice, he leaned in close. "Your comment is inappropriate, Captain." He added extra emphasis on the last word.
Sighing, Jim stopped trying to peek around the other man. Turning his attention on Spock, he pasted on a fake smile. "Of course, you're right, Commander." He reached up and patted the Vulcan's arm. His pat had the strength of a slap.
Spock showed no sign of having felt it. Instead he kept his expression neutral. "Commander Spock appearing for duty, Captain. I am here to relieve you at your discression."
"Then the bridge is yours, Commander." This time Kirk didn't bother to hide his reaction. He seemed to shrink in size as he exhaled. Relief was clearly evident in his posture. Running a hand through his hair, Kirk stalked towards the upper deck and then the turbolift.
Watching the other man go, Spock reassured himself that there would be no further incidents. He was satisfied of this only when the doors had closed and the man was gone. The moment he was free he turned on the rest of the bridge.
Silence swept over the crew with the force of a tidal wave. Only the ship's normal operations were audible.
Narrowing his eyes, Spock turned his back to the Captain's Chair. He calmly lowered himself down in to soft leather. As he did this the tension among them built and he let it. After three minutes exactly he licked his lips. "Lieutenant Sulu. The moment your shift ends, you will report to maintenance for temporary reassignment. Perhaps a week descaling the warp-core coolant tanks will remind you of proper decorum."
The Lieutenant's back stiffened. After a moment he nodded his acknowledgement.
"I did not catch that, Lieutenant." Spock waited until the other man's body froze at the controls. "A verbal response is required to every order given by a superior officer."
"Aye, sir." The proper amount of deference was put in the words, even if they had a flat edge.
Beside the now chatised man, Chekov watched him with a sympathetic expression. He stopped when he noticed Spock watching them from the corner of his eye. Swallowing, Chekov went back to his work.
It was enough for Spock, though, and he let it slide. "Very good." Sitting back, he rest his hands on the chair controls.
~~~~~~~~~~
The atmosphere in the Primary Rec Room was somber. This was in stark contrast to the high emotions of yesterday. Post-launch excitement had given many an excuse to be loud and boisterous. Spock had not been immune to this.
Yet, when he entered after his shift, he found many of the crew quiet. They were clustered together in social groups, but they were not speaking. He suspected that he knew the cause.
More than a few sent glares in his direction.
Suspicion immediately turned to confirmation that it was his presence.
He felt the need to sigh. If they were this easily discouraged then moral was certainly to be a problem, an exceedingly dangerous one. Adding it to the growing list in his mind, he ignored them and headed for the food synthesizer.
This called for something with dark chocolate. For once, he was purely grateful to be assigned to a Human designed vessel. As he entered the code, a mug of steaming liquid appeared in a flash. Before he could reach for it, though, a shadow distracted him.
"Mmm, that smells good." Sliding in beside him at the synthesizer, Nyota turned her back to the wall. She leaned one hand against the bulkhead so she could lean over and smell the contents of his cup. "I love hot-chocolate."
Glancing up to meet her eyes, his lips twitched. "So do I." He followed her finger as she dipped it in the white foam on top. When she pulled it out then stuck it in her mouth he shuddered.
"Mmm." Nyota ran the finger up to the middle knuckle in to her mouth and sucked on it. Pulling it out, she smirked at him. "Hurry up, I go on shift in less than an hour."
A fine tremor ran through him. Glancing around, he searched to see if anyone was watching them. Only one pair of eyes was bold enough, but the Ensign quickly looked away.
~~~~~~~~
Watching as Nyota made her way through the tables, he let his eyes wander to her hips. He could still feel the gentle caress of her fingers across his own. The hint of her perfume made his insides quiver. Realizing he was now staring at empty space, Spock forced himself to look around.
There were fewer people in the Rec Room now than there had been when he entered. His mind automatically supplied the time and the shift change. It was, after all, why his companion had been forced to leave.
He started to look down at his mug until he felt eyes upon him once more. Turning slowly, he faced the direction he sensed them in. It was no surprise when he found the same Ensign from earlier watching him. He stared back at Chekov in question.
It lasted but for a moment, then the teen glanced away. Cheeks coloring pink, he rose up from the table and snatched his tray.
Something inside stirred in to waching him go Spock. He couldn't quite place what about the young man intrigued him. Yet, his eyes tracked his every movement.
~~~~~~~~
Her scent was everywhere. Strong and familiar, it lingered in the halls of the place they dwelled. Pausing, he closed his eyes and inhaled. He could taste her arrousal on the breeze.
She was almost ready for him.
Exhaling through his teeth, he started to growl. If he were to gain her, he must first announce his presence. Her proximity meant she was ready. He cocked an ear and waited for her response.
A soft exhalation. She was right there within reach.
His heart started to speed up. One sound from her in acceptance and he would have her. If only she would...
"The time is now fifteen hundred hours."
Snorting awake, Spock swallowed thickly around the dry sensation in his mouth. His tongue felt swollen.
That was not the only part of him.
Mentally, he cursed Nyota for her teasing. The errection took a moment of concentration to will away. Waking up in this condition was becoming an irritating habit.
He cleared his throat and sat up. Running a hand over his face he wiped away the dried fluids that had built up on his cheek and around his eyes. Sleeping with his mouth open was a disgusting habit he had grown out of back on Vulcan. Apparently the distress of this new posting was putting quite the strain on him.
A quick glance to the chronometer on his wall revealed he had two hours until duty. This brought him a small measure of peace. He had plenty of time to meditate and bring his mind and body under control.
~~~~~~~~~~
There were only two people in the primary rec room. This was unusual as the next shift change was still ten minutes away. Spock found his eyes drawn to the smaller of the two. He recognized Ensign Chekov.
The younger man stopped talking. Turning, he looked over his shoulder at the entrance, then froze. Swallowing, he quickly returned to his companion and their conversation.
Obviously he was still feared by everyone. Dismissing the thought, he headed for the synthesizer.
He ordered a salty fruit drink. The flavor seemed appropriate this morning. As it drained in to the mug he took a breath to inhale the aroma. The next moment his body seized in a violent sneeze.
Silence filled his ears when he could hear again.
Cautiously he looked back over his shoulder. The two crewmen were watching him. Neither tried to hide the fact of their curiosity.
Spock reached up to rub at his nose and mouth in an attempt to ease the strain. Grabbing his mug, he turned from the synthesizer and headed for a table. While he sipped the drink, he ignored them until the shift change a few minutes later.
After they left, he felt a little improved. He would soon be joined by Nyota.
~~~~~~~~~~
Silence reined supreme upon the bridge. It had for the last hour since Kirk had left. Apparently they weren't comfortable with him. That was fine with Spock so long as they did their duty.
Face in the viewer, Spock focused on the readouts from his station. The long range scans indicated there was a spacial anomaly four light years ahead. If they did not change course, they would intercept it in thirty-five minutes.
This was really quite fascinating. The changing lines of energy were fluctuating at a measured pace. They were actually predictable to the least pulse. If he wasn't mistaken, there was a controled pattern to them.
Sniffling, Spock tried to be discreet. Unfortunately, quiet made this impossible.
The anomaly was shifting slowly. The energy patterns were growing less erractic the longer he watched. They almost seemed to be moving in direction.
A tickle started at the back of Spock's throat, making him clear it. He felt a moment of irritation until he forced himself to calm down. That he even had to deal with this was annoying. Whatever had started this morning was slowly getting worse. At this rate he would be in a fullblown reaction by mid-shift.
He made a mental note to take a break soon to see Dr. McCoy. That done, he put it from his mind to focus on his studies.
It was just in time too. A sudden spike in the energy alarmed him.
Raising his head, he turned to the front of the bridge. This made him sway and he had to clutch at his console to keep his balance. "Lieutenant Sulu, are you monitoring the anomaly in grid five-two-eight?"
Fingers flying over his console, Sulu stared at the readouts in alarm. "I was." Turning back, he looked to the Commander with slightly widened eyes. "The computer said it was nothing."
"We must rely more upon our own judgment in such cases." It was mere statement, Spock hoped it would be taken as fact and not a rebuke. His balance returned but the edges of his vision continued to waver. Crossing from his station to the Command Chair, he used the armrest to guide him down slowly. "Alter course accordingly, please."
Sulu frowned at the older man, but kept any comments to himself. "Aye, sir." His hands were already in motion before he had finished speaking.
That done, Spock looked to the teenager next to Sulu. This was difficult as his eyes started to water. "Ensign Chekov." He noted and dismissed the teen's back stiffening within the span of an eyeblink. "Launch a probe and a message bouy. We must ascertain the level of threat and, if necessary, warn others."
"Aye, Commander." Back rigid, Chekov nodded. He didn't look back to acknowledge his orders once. "Launching probe and messenger bouy now."
"Very good." The tickle in his throat migrated upwards in to his sinuses. Blinking, he grit his teeth. He tried to fight it, but it was to no avail.
With a violent jerk and contraction, Spock sneezed across the bridge. His body twitched as he sneezed twice more.
~~~~~~~~~
The lights of the console above him flashed at irritating intervals. Spock tried to watch the medical staff go about their work, but the lights kept making him blink. After a seventh attempt, he gave up and simply closed them.
A deep chuckle came from over his waist.
Parting his eyelids a bit, he peered up at the doctor. The expression of sadistic pleasure on the physician's face almost made him get up. That was never a good sign for his welfare. "Are you quite done, Doctor McCoy?"
"Not yet." The grin on the man's face indicated he was clearly enjoying the Vulcan's discomfort. He kept his eyes on the scanner in his right hand even as his left continued to run the sensor over Spock.
"Doctor." Spock's voice held a hint of warning. This had gone on long enough.
With a sigh of diappointment, McCoy slipped the sensor back in the top of the scanner. Closing the scanner, he put it aside. That done, he finally looked at the other man's face. "It's an allergic reaction."
Spock stared back at him with clear disbelief. "Please elaborate."
"All right." The doctor pursed his lips for a second and stared off in the distance as if in thought. Blinking, he was suddenly alert again. "You've had a mild allergic reaction."
Rising up on one elbow, Spock raised an eyebrow. He swallowed before speaking. "A little more detail would be appreciated."
Patting the other man on the stomach, McCoy gave him a brilliant smile. "Well, why didn't you say so? I thought you people were supposed to be precise."
Spock narrowed his eyes. When he spoke it was with a lowered tone. "You are trying my patience, Lieutenant Commander."
Instead of appearing affronted or angry, this only seemed to amuse the Human more. His grin was threatening to split his entire face in half. "It's a mild reaction." He held up a hand to forestall Spock's rebuke. "Before you say anything, I don't know what caused it. All my scans reveal is that you're reacting to something. I can find no trace of anti-bodies, though. It's the damnedest of things."
Nodding, Spock closed his eyes. The tension drained out of his body and he made himself relax. "How would we go about finding the cause?"
"Well, I can place a monitor upon you, something large and bulky." This was pronounced carefully, with more than a little sadistic glee. "Or, I can give you something to eliminate the reaction and hope it goes away."
"I would prefer the second option." He wanted this entire situation to be over with as little fuss as possible. That changed, however, when McCoy wheeled over a large medical table with several vials and hyposprays.
Loading the first one in the hypospray, McCoy grinned. "That's what I thought you would say." He held up the spray for Spock to get a good look while he checked the dosage. "Now, this may sting for a little bit."
~~~~~~~~~
His body ached. It started deep within his tissue and spread out from there. While he would never admit it, the pain was starting to effect his ability to focus. A stronger will was required to continue on at his duties. Therefore, Spock only intended to get a small meal and beverage before retiring to his quarters.
As the doors to the Primary Rec Room opened, he was forced to close his eyes. The allergy medication Doctor McCoy had injected him with was effecting his balance. Even the small motion of the doors opening set his head to spinning. Once he regained control of his body's reactions he entered.
Heading for the synthesizer he felt the deck shift under him. It was an illusion, he knew, for no one else reacted. Stopping, he managed to keep from even grimacing as his stomach roiled. It took several seconds for him to get his body back under his control this time.
At this rate he estimated it would be five minutes before he lost his tenuous hold and fell face first. Spock grew slightly alarmed. This was not a standard reaction. There were two direct causes that he immediately came up with. Either the allergine was effecting him more, or the Doctor had deliberately done this to him.
Judging the man's emnity towards him, the latter held merit. The Lieutenant Commander was certainly very vocal in his oposition to Spock's command. That had more to do with a clash of personalities than his qualifications. A very human emotion, spite.
"Commander, sir?" Chekov appeared almost out of thin air to stand off to Spock's right. There had been no shimmering heralding his arrival, which discounted a transporter. He came closer, his face creased in a frown. "Are you unwell?"
Spock took a moment to run the Ensign's words through his mind. The V sound in place of his W was quite quaint. It was most pleasant to his ears.
He frowned. That was not correct.
Swallowing, Spock took a shuddering breath. His mind had been wandering. The progression of his symptoms was alarming. Spock realized his face must have revealed the emotional response to this as Chekov looked incredibly disturbed. Almost as much as he himself felt.
The teen was instantly at his side. Hand going under the Commander's elbow, he moved in to a supporting position.
Spock couldn't figure out why until his knees gave out. That wasn't a moment of weakness, they simply stopped working. In fact, he couldn't feel anything below the waist. "I cannot feel my legs." The words sounded dazed even to his ears, though distorted.
"We are calling sickbay, Commander. Hold on!" Chekov was joined by another person on the other side of Spock.
He felt strong hands try to take his weight but Spock couldn't tell if they managed to succeed. His skin was becoming numb. Everything was failing in a cascade at such a rate that he could no longer keep up with them. It was a monumental effort to even keep his eyes open.
The next thing he knew was his face was falling forward. This meant that he had lost fine motor control and would most likely cease to breathe within seconds. Spock was wrong.
He had already stopped breathing.
~~~~~~~~~~
The hiss of doors opening awakened Spock. He did not recognize the minute differences in these. That meant he had rarely spent time in this room. He was not in his quarters.
"What the hell did you do to him?" Nyota sounded angry at whomever she was speaking to.
Spock took a deep breath on instinct. He reconized several smells, people, including those of Captain Kirk, Doctor McCoy, Nyota and someone else. It took only a moment for his mind to supply a name.
Ensign Chekov.
Then everything came back to him. The sickbay, the degredation of his motor skills, the complete loss of consciousness. It all painted a very disturbing picture in his mind.
"Relax, woman, there was nothing I did wrong." Dr. McCoy, the epitome of candor as always. He sounded close to Spock. "He had a mild reaction to one of the injections I gave him."
"It was not mild, sir." Alarm caused Chekov's voice to crack and his accent to thicken. "Commander Spock stopped breathing for several seconds. Very long seconds."
"Leonard, you are a complete dick!" Nyota's angry hiss was much closer now. Her tiny hand slipped in to Spock's. "Enough of this petty bullshit! This time you nearly killed him."
"I did not!" McCoy slapped the hypospray on the exam bed next to Spock. "I'll only say this once, so open your ears and get this through your thick head. It was not intention or unintentional. He reacted badly to a routine injection I gave him." His voice grew louder with every word. "It's not my fault. His neural chemistry's gone haywire!"
"All right, enough!" Kirk spoke up for the first time. Coming closer he tried to put himself between them. "Bones, I want to know what's going on and what you can do to fix it."
"Gladly, the moment I know myself." He picked up the hypospray again. "Now, all of you, get out!"
It was in that moment Spock chose to open his eyes. Seeing the four people surrounding him, he raised an eyebrow in question.
"Well, imagine that." There was a preturbed look on the McCoy's face. He still clutched the hypospray, but it was an absent hold. "I suppose you've been listening this entire time."
"Not precisely, Doctor." Spock sat up quickly without aid from his legs or arms. The sheet slid down his body to pool around his waist.
This caused everyone to pause and stare.
Spock rolled his shoulders quickly to check the balance. Finding everything in functioning order, he sighed with relief. "I heard enough to understand you are still clueless."
"Why you..." Fist clenching around the hypospray, McCoy took a step towards the Vulcan. He stopped with a shake of his head. "If I wasn't so worried...Never mind. Consider this me being relieved you're alive at all."
"Color me surprised." Nyota had a smile on her face when everyone looked at her. Her shoulders drooped a little as she sighed. "You do have a heart. But that means we still have no idea what happened to Spock."
"I had a toxic reaction to the immuno suppressents Dr. McCoy gave me. I have purged it from my system and am better now." Reaching up he ran a hand over the front of his body. To his surprise the fingers encountered no material, only flesh and hair. He started to look to the Doctor in askance when he noticed Chekov blush. "What happened to my uniform."
Chekov would not meet the other's gaze. "You stopped breathing, it was constrictive." Shrugging, he tried to cross his arms. "Dr. McCoy said to remove it."
"Doctor?" This time Spock did turn to said man.
"All right, everyone who does not need to be here, leave now." Raising his hands, McCoy moved to heard the other three out. "I have some tests to perform."