Agent Fox Mulder (i_want_2) wrote in multi_fiction, @ 2010-05-02 03:02:00 |
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Entry tags: | rated: explicit, slash, startrek, startrek xi |
Fic: Possession 2/9 StarTrek XI
Title: Possession
Author: Lopaka Tanu
Disclaimer: I do not own StarTrek.
Characters:Mirrorverse - Jim, Bones, Uhura, Chekov. XI - Spock, Kirk, Chekov, Nyota.
Words: 14972
Genre: Dark Slash.
Prompt: Mirror Kirk comes looking for something he lost: Spock.
Fandom: StarTrek XI
Pairing: M!Kirk/Spock, past M!Kirk/M!Spock
Rating: Adult
Warnings: Language, Violence, Character Death, Sexual Activity, Dub-Con, Bondage, Dominance/Submission, Kidnaping, Angst, Stockholm Syndrome, Drug Use.
Recipient: Anna - Winner of Help_Chile auction.
Summary: A sudden rift in space offers one Jim Kirk the chance to reclaim what was taken from him. Spock will learn to accept his new life, whether he wants to or not.
Author's Note: Lyrics and title from "Possession" by Sarah McLachlan
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Part 1. And Solitude My Guide.
"Captain, the Klingon ship is moving off." Watching the readouts from his console, Chekov frowned at them. "They are preparing to jump to warp."
"Well, we can't let them do that, now can we?" Shifting in his chair, Jim leaned over the right arm rest. Strands of his long hair fell over his eyes. Resting his chin on a fist, he stared at the screen with a bored expression.
"No, sir." Chekov raised his gaze to the screen with a grin. His fingers instinctively flew to the weapons control. "Firing phasers."
"No, I think not." Kirk yawned. "Use torpedos, full volley." Today had lost its luster already. He scooted to the front of his chair and stood up. "You can use the larger chunks for target practice. I know you've been itching to try out the new forward weapons array."
Unable to keep the excitement from his voice, Chekov nearly shouted, "aye, Captain! Thank you, sir." His accent grew so thick as to be almost indecipherable. He began firing before he even finished speaking.
The ship shook as the Klingons returned fire.
It was an easy feat for Jim to maintain his balance. Heading for the turbolift, he waived off Yeoman Rand's curious expression. "Lieutenant, the ship is yours. See that she remains in once piece."
Just then, the Klingon war bird exploded.
"Da!" Chekov braced himself against his console as the ship rocked. "Will do, sir!" He didn't bother to turn around and salute, his attention focused on the debris field and his victory.
Shaking his head, Jim smiled at the young man's enthusiasm. There had been a time when he was just like him. That had been nearly a decade ago. A lot of things had changed since. By the time the doors had closed, he was no longer smiling.
~~~~~~~~
The white halls of the Enterprise were bright as always. A good whipping of the second shift maintenance crew had ensured that. Jim was pleased that he wouldn't have to order it done a second time. Having to repeat himself was a sign of weakness.
Not like it would have been the first time he was challenged.
Crew rotations had started to become a running gag among the senior staff. One popular post in the betting pool was that of first officer. Four in the last six months was a record in Imperial History. Five if you counted Spock.
Jim's thoughts turned from this to something less painful.
His first year anniversary of being captain was coming up soon. Just the thought of it alone made him feel old. The average span of a Captain's reign was just under five years. By the time they made it that far they were usually seasoned old men.
He was twenty-five. In another three months he would be twenty-six. And already he was a widower.
There was a celebration planned in the primary rec room in two days time. Bones was handling all the arrangements, which was just as well. Jim didn't feel like celebrating. He would much rather be planning out the next leg of their invasion.
Rounding the next junction, he came to the final bend before his quarters. His were the only one down this corridor and with good reason. The moment he passed over the threshold a forcefield activated. Its quiet hum filled the corridor.
At his hatch, he entered in his personal code and waited for the doors to open. They parted with a quiet hiss. Immediately he was overwhelmed by the heat and smell of burning candles.
Jim felt his body quickly relax. He was finally home.
~~~~~~~~~
The chime on his doors rang only once before they parted.
Pushing his way through them, Bones took in the state of disarray. There were blankets and pillows scattered across the room. It was obvious that someone had slept in every place, leaving them there the next day. He sighed and turned to the couch in the center of the room.
Opening one eye, Jim peered up at him. "The alarm has not gone off. You are early."
"I figured I would give you time to freshen up the place." Moving to the closest blanket and pillow, Bones began to pick them up. "At least you made it to the couch this time."
"There is a word for what you are doing." Blinking, Jim tried to get his eye to focus. It didn't work. "If I could recall it, I would bring you up on charges for it."
"And if a bullfrog had wings, it wouldn't bump its ass every time it jumped." Snatching up the last blanket, the doctor stomped over to the couch. He dropped the entire pile upon his friend's back. "Either get up, or bake in your own mess."
"I believe the correct term is stew in my own juices." The next moment he had to wince as his head was smacked by an over stuffed pillow. It stank from some perfume he couldn't remember buying.
"Jim, have you taken a good look at yourself lately?" Walking over to the food synthesizer, Bones grabbed a chip from the display. He quickly slipped it in the console and waited for it to make them a pot.
The smell of fresh coffee made Jim groan with relief. He sat up, and in the process, knocked most of the blankets to the floor. "As a matter of fact, I see myself in the mirror every morning."
"You do, do you?" Bones snorted. He carried the carafe and two mugs over to the coffee table. After filling both mugs, he grabbed one for himself and eased himself in to the only available chair. "Then care to explain to me how you can justify looking like a hobo, on duty no less?"
Jim's hand automatically went to his stubble. It was growing so thick by now that the lower half of his face was covered in blond hair. He grimaced at the sandpaper feeling against his palm.
"Yes, it's that bad." Closing his eyes, Bones took a sip. The other's smell might have had a little to do with that too.
Dropping his chin caused hair to fall over Jim's face. This tickled the skin along his chest. "What's the point of it?"
"You keep asking that," the other man snapped at him. Anger caused the skin around his eyes to wrinkle. "I'm sick of giving you plenty of god damned reasons to keep going and you ignoring every single one of them. Either pick one or throw yourself out the nearest airlock so I can get busy on the paperwork!"
"May be I should." Jim had to dash back as boiling hot coffee splashed over his bedding and the front of the couch. Heart pounding, he glared over the table at his friend. "What the fuck did you do that for?"
"A better question you should ask yourself is why did you flinch instead of letting it burn you?" Slamming his mug down on the table, Bones stood up. "If you don't straighten up your appearance and start paying attention to your crew, I am going to remove you from command."
Still pressed against the back cushions of his couch, Jim openly stared at his friend. "Yeah, well, if you do that, you'd better get used to calling Lieutenant Chekov sir!"
"What makes you think I'd let his tight, little ass touch that chair?" Pointing a finger, Bones began to shake it. His voice and accent deepened with his anger. "If I get one more complaint, Jim, just one!" Leaving the threat hanging in the air was sufficient. With a growl, he waved it off and stormed out.
Jim was too stunned to do much more than blink for a few seconds after that. Sighing, he pushed the soaked blankets off his legs. It looked like he was going to have to get up and do something today. As he was stretching his arms over his head something the doc had said struck him. "Tight, little ass?"
~~~~~~~~
Stepping off the turbolift, Jim tugged at the front of his freshly cleaned uniform. It smelled of some chemical softener that wasn't completely unpleasant. At least it felt nice to the touch. The ship's laundry had done a good job. He even no longer stunk of body oder despite his best efforts with a hand brush.
Reaching up, he rubbed at the red bumps on his cheeks. They still stung from the bite of the laser razors. He would have to ask Commander Scott to readjust them for the new contours of his face later on.
It was crossing to his chair that he realized people were actively watching him. More than one were staring openly. This made him sigh. "What's the matter, don't any of you have duties to attend?"
Their reaction was quick and almost uniform. All ten crewmembers got back to their stations immediately.
"Pay attention to your work, ladies and gentlemen, and take a little pride." A moment of levity made him smile. "These new territories won't conquer themselves."
He continued on around the arm rail and to the command deck. There, he eased himself down in to his chair with a contented sigh. It felt different today, some how. Jim definitely felt better about himself.
Leaning against the arm rest was a new experience. There was none of the usual hair falling in to his face. The golden clasp held it back just nicely. Smiling, he pressed the comm button.
"Sickbay, here."
"Yes, Dr. Barros, how are you this fine morning?" He snickered as he imagined the look on the woman's face.
"Everything is well, Captain." She sounded a little put out. "What can I do for you?"
"Oh, nothing much. It's just a small matter involving Dr. McCoy." Catching Lieutenant Chekov's spine stiffening in front of him, Jim could swear he felt his own eyes twinkle. "You know, I was in the shower, giving myself a full check up, and it suddenly occurred to me. When was the last time Dr. McCoy had a full checkup?"
"I see." Obviously Barros did not like what she was being enlightened to. "I will check it out."
"You do that. Thank you. Bye." He waved at the comm button before turning it off. Sitting back in his chair, Jim crossed his legs. "Lieutenant Chekov."
Back straight, Chekov visibly swallowed. "Yes, captain?"
Narrowing his eyes, Jim squashed his smile. "What's the ship's status this morning?" Because he already knew his own prognosis.