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Title: No Orlando, I
Author: caitri
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Kirk/McCoy
Word Count: 18,116
Summary: Genderswap, non-AU. Jim is a woman, she just hasn’t always been a woman. But she is still Jim.
Warnings: Explicit sex, language.
Disclaimer: I know this may come as a shock, but I am not, amazing as it may seem, Gene Roddenberry, J.J. Abrams, Paramount or Bad Robot. Just so you know.
Notes: Same ‘verse as Captain’s Log: Fathers and Sons, Topeka, and A Field Theory of James T. Kirk. I guess this is a series now? Boy, did I not intend to do that. Well since it’s too late now, I thereby christen this the Log!verse. Cos I’m a dork. Yo ho hum.
Acknowledgements: A big honkin’ thank you to mcstories for letting me borrow Greg Harris from her excellent Cupcake stories. Also big thanks to startrekgirl712 and epiphany_gun for their betaing skills!!!

No Orlando, I

Captain’s Log… Starfleet has sent us to Farad II on a diplomatic mission to discuss possible entry of the Faradi into the United Federation of Planets. They have recently attained warp capabilities, but they only have a few warp-capable ships—none of them as fast as Enterprise, of course. Though a largely peaceful race, they are extremely patriarchal and seem to have difficulty accepting the equality of sexes in our crew. It has strained our relations these last few days, and the situation is particularly discomfiting to many of our female crewmembers. We will send a landing party down soon to conclude negotiations.

In the meantime, we also await the return of First Officer Spock, who has been attending a conference on Rok-tor with Ambassador Selek. We are all looking forward to his return when we rendezvous after our final meeting with the Faradi. Kirk out.

Farad II is a beautiful planet, Leonard thinks, but he’s going to be glad when they get shipboard again. Jim is still talking to one of the ambassadors, playing the Federation Captain thing to the hilt with his niceties. A loud sigh beside him disrupts his thoughts. “I can hear your teeth grinding, Lieutenant,” he says gently to Uhura.

“Sorry, sir,” Nyota says, her voice muffled. She is covered from head to toe in a Faradi balrik, a garment that looks like a shiny grey sheet. It is ostensibly designed to disguise her female gender, although since only females are required to wear them and Faradi women never leave the home, she’s more obvious by taking up two cubic meters of space than if she’d just been in her normal uniform among her comrades. “I’ll try to grind them silently like a proper female, shall I?”

Leonard rolls his eyes. “I think that might count as abuse of sarcasm, not that we blame you after what they’ve put you through with that—thing.”

Sulu agrees. “It’s not fair,” he says. “We’re bending backwards to accommodate their cultural mandates, the least they could do is show our Communications officer some respect!”

“Don’t worry, Hikaru. They respect me—you can tell because I’m the only one with my very own tent!” They chuckle at that.

“Having fun, guys?” says Jim, joining them.

“Loads, Captain,” Nyota says dryly. “You could tell how much if I wasn’t, you know, in a tent and all.”

“Lieutenant Uhura, you have been patient, accommodating, invaluable, and beyond reproof throughout this entire mission,” Jim says. He is completely sincere, and the balrik shifts as Uhura listens. “We all know how difficult this has been for you. Just a little longer, now.” He leans closer. “And I promise, once you’re shipboard you can burn that thing, if you want.”

“Thanks, Captain,” says Uhura, somehow visibly mollified underneath all the fabric.

“Now,” Jim continues, “we have a final dinner with Minister Chertain in an hour, and then this mission will be complete, and we can chalk another one up for the Federation.”

“Was that meant to be inspiring?” Leonard asks.

“Not really, but I’ll take credit anyway if it was!” Jim answers with a cheeky grin.

“You would,” says Leonard.

One of the Minister’s Faradi escorts approaches them, bowing stiffly with a respectful gesture. “Come,” he says. “We will take you to prepare for the feast!”

“I like the sound of that,” says Sulu.

“The optimism of youth,” grumps Leonard.

“We need our strength, Bones," Jim says, smiling.

“Lay on, Macduff,” Leonard says, and they follow their Faradi escorts.

They are led to a series of rooms. Leonard’s hackles raise as the group is separated, and he comms the bridge just in case. “McCoy to Scott,” he says.

“Scotty ‘ere, sir,” says the familiar Scotsman’s voice. “Are ye all right doon there?”

“I just have a feeling,” says Leonard. He tries not to think about how foolish that must sound. “Have you heard from the Captain?”

“Aye, sir! He commed us a few minutes ago as well—he was feelin’ a bit spooked, himself. If’n ye don’ mind me sayin’, ye might want to consider comin’ back early if ye’re both that bothered ‘n’ all.”

That is the moment when a ragged cry tears through the air. Leonard follows the voice, body moving faster than his mind can catch up. Jim!


Sulu is in the hall as well, and they reach the quarters the Captain was escorted to at the same moment.

“Jim!” Leonard looks around the quarters, each section of which is cordoned off with a diaphanous fabric.

A clanking sound emanates from an odd, metallic closet in the back of the elaborately decorated room. Leonard and Sulu run to it.

“There wasn’t one of these in my room,” says Sulu darkly.

“Mine either.” Leonard is already exploring the thing, running his hands over its seamless sides, searching for some way to open it as the clanking sounds continue. “Jim?”

“I’m in here!” says a voice from within, that doesn’t sound remotely like the Captain’s voice.

“What’s going on?” Uhura joins them. She’s ditched the balrik, moving easily now in her crimson skant.

“We’re not sure,” says Sulu. “The Captain—“

“I’ve got it!” Leonard crows in triumph, the doors to the strange wardrobe or whatever the Hell the thing is opening up like something out of a children’s tale.

“Bones!” cries its inhabitant in relief. “What took you so long?”

Leonard—Hell, all of them—stare. It’s Jim, alright, only he…is a she.

Jim is a few inches smaller than he—than she used to be. (That doesn’t confuse Leonard. Not one bit.) Her hair is a little bit longer than the short cut he—she usually sports, but it’s still that dark gold color. Her clothes are large on her, the gold command shirt reaching past her hips. She is trim of waist and small-breasted, nipples pointing upright under the fabric, and if Jim was handsome as a man, he is unbelievable as a woman. Leonard pulls her out of the machine, staring like an idiot.

“Bones, stop looking at me like that!” she grumbles at him. “What’s the matter?” Her voice is low and boyish; it surprises her. “Eep!” She claps her hands over her mouth. “What just happened?”

She is completely adorable. I did not just think that, Leonard tells himself. Emergency. Focus!

“Uh, sir?” Sulu says uncertainly. “You appear to have—changed sexes.” He runs a tricorder over Jim, confirming what is blatantly obvious.

I should be the one doing that, thinks Leonard, but he’s too astonished to do anything. He notices he’s still holding Jim’s hand from pulling her out of that odd closet contraption, and she’s holding onto his just as tightly. He gives it a reassuring squeeze out of habit. “It’s okay, darlin’,” he says softly.

And of course that’s when Minister Chertain shows up, with several of his largest, anabolic steroid-enhanced friends.

“We demand your unconditional surrender now!” declares Chertain.

“Not happening,” says Jim immediately. “One comm to the bridge and my ship will stun everyone in a mile’s radius. Now, what the Hell is this about? This is a peaceful mission, and you are unarmed, outgunned, and by the way?” She gestures effusively at herself. “I was upset with your treatment of my people earlier, but this whole sex change box thing takes the cake! Now are we going to talk sensibly now?"

The Faradi ignore Jim completely. “You have no Captain,” says Chertain to Leonard and Sulu. “You have no choice.”

“Um, I’m right here,” says Jim. She waves helpfully. She is flushed, angry now. Dammit, she’s even more beautiful when she’s angry! Leonard shakes his head. Thoughts like that? Not helping.

“You are a woman!” Chertain says dismissively. “You no longer control your men.”

“The Hell with you!” says Leonard. “Jim’s our Captain!”

“Orders, sir?” Sulu asks Jim without hesitation.

“Uhura to Enterprise, be prepared to beam us out on my signal. Over.” The Communications Officer is staring at Chertain. “You seriously thought you could subvert the command of a Starfleet vessel by changing the gender of our Captain?”

“We await your surrender,” Chertain says stolidly. “Your people are weak and decadent. We merely have to wait for you to fall upon yourselves like the dogs you are, and then we will have your ship! With its technology, we don’t need the Federation--”

“This is officially the most idiotic mission I’ve ever been on,” says Jim. She puts one hand on the sex-change device, the other flipping open her communicator. “Kirk to Enterprise. Away team to beam up, plus the machine I’m touching. Over.” There is no response; Kirk looks at her comm, puzzled. “It was working a little while ago…”

Uhura’s communicator chirps. “Uh, Lieutenant Uhura,” says Scotty, “Who just called the Bridge?”

“That was the Captain,” Uhura says shortly. “Do as she says. We’ve got quite a story to tell you.”


They re-materialize onboard the Enterprise. Kyle is manning the transporter controls. “Thanks, Lieutenant,” Jim says automatically; it sounds like a chirp to her own ears. Bones turns to her, bemused with a half-smile. He catches her looking at him, then shakes his head and looks away.

Kyle is confused, staring at her closely. “Who—“

“I’m Captain Kirk,” Jim says stolidly, and steps off the transporter pad.

“It’s true,” says Sulu.

Scotty enters the room then. Jim takes a breath, ready to introduce herself again.

“Hullo, Captain, sir,” says Scotty. “We went ahead and put that odd wee box of yours in Cargo Bay Three. Ensign Chekov is examining it now. If’n ye don’ mind me sayin’ so, sir, I think we should figure it out ourselves, lest the Faradi have some other tricks up their sleeves. Sir.”

Jim exhales in surprise. “Thank you, Scotty,” she says sincerely. “You seem to be taking this in stride.”

Scotty shrugs, nonplussed. “Aye, well. My specialization may be in relativistic mechanics, but I’ve seen more than a few transporter incidents. This is hardly the oddest thing that can happen, sir.”

Jim blinks. “I recognize that that was meant to be comforting, Scotty.”

“Well, I don’t!” says Bones. “Infirmary. Now!”

In Sickbay, Bones insists on doing the scans on Jim himself. “Sorry, Geoffrey,” he says to M’Benga, “but—“ And he leaves the rest hanging. Nothing else needs to be said, though; McCoy is the CMO, after all, and everyone knows how he is about Jim. Frankly, the man will be unbearable until he gets a look at Jim’s readouts anyway, so he might as well get them first.

After the first set of examinations are done in the general area, Nurse Chapel escorts Jim to the private room used for gynecological exams. “I’m doing this part, Doctor,” she says to Bones firmly. Bones looks like he wants to argue, but he doesn’t.

The examination room is very small, mostly taken up by the examination table and the stool right next to it. Jim eyes the stirrups on the side of the table uncertainly. Chapel catches her gaze. “It’s alright, Captain,” she says. “This won’t hurt.”

“Yes, it will,” Jim grumps. “I may have never done this before, but I know enough that anytime a medic says something won’t hurt, it will.”

“Cynic,” says Chapel.

“Realist,” counters Jim.

Chapel gets Jim a backless gown and gets her on the examination table. She shows Jim where to put her feet in the stirrups, then orders her to scoot to the edge so she can examine her down below. Jim is shaking by then—a few hours ago everything was a standard mission and now she’s in a whole different body and her center of balance is altered, and now Chapel’s gloved fingers are touching her—

“This is the weirdest day of my life,” Jim says. “And I’ve had some really. Weird. Days.”

“I can imagine,” Chapel says calmly. She finishes her inspection and pats Jim impersonally. “All done. Get dressed and we’ll talk.”

Jim dresses quickly in her clothes that no longer fit properly, and then Chapel is back in the room moments later. “You’ll be relieved to know that you are in perfect health, Captain,” she begins.

“Except for the part where my standard operating equipment is in the shop and I don’t know how to drive this thing,” Jim says in frustration. She gestures at her entire body.

“That’s one way to put it,” says Chapel. “Now for the things you’ve probably never had to think about before. Do you want a contraceptive hypo?”

“Huh?” Jim is blank.

Chapel looks at her like she’s an idiot. “Contraceptives. You have eggs now, dear. Unsafe sex can lead to their fertilization which leads to embryos which leads to babies.”

“I am familiar with biology, Nurse,” says Jim. “Eggs. Shit.”

“Is that a yes then?”

Jim hesitates just for a second, just long enough to contemplate having sex with Bones in this body. She is suffused with a warm feeling that is at first familiar, then completely foreign as a different set of organs stirs in interest. “Yes,” she says, flushing a deep red, and she barely feels the hypo.

“Something else you should know,” says Chapel. “You have a hymen now, too. I don’t want you to be too surprised, uh, later.”

“A hymen?” Jim all but shrieks. “I’m a virgin now, too?”

“Apparently so,” says Chapel.

Jim begins to wonder if there’s a point where it just can’t get any worse. Then it does. Chapel replicates a new set of regulation underclothing for her, a bra and panties to replace the boxers she is still wearing. In her previous incarnation, Jim was well familiar with the mechanics of the items, but putting them on herself is an odd experience. The panties are fine, but the bra itches like Hell.

“You might just not be used to breasts yet,” says Chapel when she complains. “And sometimes they are more sensitive before or during menstruation.”

“You mean I might be getting ready to go on the rag?” cries Jim, startled into unaccustomed crudeness. “Sorry,” she apologizes immediately, “that was uncalled for, Nurse.”

Chapel gives her a sympathetic smile. “It was, but it’s understandable, Captain. Now let’s get you back to Doctor McCoy before he wears a hole in the floor waiting on you.”

Jim feels herself get hot and then cold at the thought of Bones. “Does he know about my—the—you know?”

“He is the Chief Medical Officer, Captain,” says Chapel apologetically. “And while normally there would be some privacy issues here—this isn’t normal.”

“No kidding,” says Jim.

In the main area of Sickbay Bones and M’Benga are waiting, Bones pacing up and down. He looks worried, face pale, brow furrowed. Something clenches in Jim’s gut, because she knows that his fretfulness is all because of her. “Relax, Bones,” she says, feigning calm with casual ease. “Nurse Chapel informs me I’m healthy as a horse, as usual.”

Bones gives her a tired half smile. “I know, Jim,” he says, an odd catch to his voice.

Jim freezes. “This isn’t going to be a problem, is it? Bones?”

M’Benga answers instead. “As far as we can tell, you are perfectly fine, Captain. But just in case, we’re putting you on medical leave for a couple of days—just in case there are unforseen after- effects. Lieutenant Commander Scott and Ensign Chekov assure us they will have the mysteries of that—machine figured out soon.”

“And what am I supposed to do in the mean time?” Jim asks angrily. “We’ve been all but attacked by a hostile race and—“

“And Scotty has things under control,” M’Benga says soothingly. “The ship’s on Yellow Alert, but that’s mostly protocol. We’ve notified Starfleet Command of the situation and are heading to Rok-Tor to pick up Commander Spock. But right now we have to look after the health of our Captain, and that’s what we’re going to do.”

“Bones?” Jim looks at her CMO, friend, and lover. He’s looking away, and for the first time, Jim is really scared. Their relationship is, in many ways, still so new to them both. And a sex change is a helluva thing to have to deal with.

“He’s right, Jim. You need some time to adjust. Doctor’s orders.” He doesn’t look at her when he speaks. That can’t be good, Jim thinks. Her throat constricts and she swallows heavily.

“Right then,” says Captain Kirk, mustering up her usual cheerful bravado. “I’ll go to my quarters, then.”

“I’m coming with you,” says Bones, but his expression is unreadable.

The two of them walk the decks of the ship. There are some quizzical looks from passing crewmen who haven’t heard the whole story of the away team and are trying to identify the woman in the too-large Captain’s uniform. Those crewmen who have heard, on the other hand, make a point of saluting or just saying “Sir!” respectfully as they pass. Jim warms at their recognition; she really does have the best damn crew in the whole of the fleet. Even if they don’t solve her—chromosomal issue—she’ll still be a Captain.

But somehow she is still unnerved when they get to their quarters. They don’t speak, and Jim takes a long, long shower. She inspects her body curiously. She cups her breasts; they are a handful each, topped with small brown nipples and larger, pinkish aureoles. The hair between her legs is thick and curly and a light brown. Her legs and armpits are conveniently hairless, though they weren’t this morning when she was still male. She wonders if she should inform someone, then shrugs; they probably know already.

When she decides she’s killed enough time, she steps out of the shower, dries off, and puts on her new undergarments. A small pile of regulation off-duty clothing has been set by the sink; Bones must have replicated them for her. She puts them on, and begins to comb the thick mass of her hair—though still short, it’s still longer than she has ever worn it, and it takes her several minutes to finish putting it in order. I guess this is as good as it’s going to get, she thinks, peering at herself in the mirror. Parts of her face she can recognize as herself—the eyes, part of the line of her cheekbones and jaw. Well at least I’m still a hottie if-- but she can’t bring herself to finish the thought, not really. Bones.

“You alright in there, Jim?”

Had she spoken aloud? Dammit. “Yeah,” she says quietly, then more confidently. “Yeah! I’m coming.”

Bones is reading a PADD on their bed. He’s changed as well, into an old blue tshirt that fits tautly across the broad expanse of his chest, and jeans. She hadn’t appreciated before that while not exactly a big man, he is nonetheless—she can’t quite figure out how to describe him. He’s tall, of course, taller than she is, well, than she used to be. He’s well-shaped, well-muscled. Attractive of course—ruggedly beautiful, in fact. No, the only word that comes to mind about what’s different right now is completely unhelpful: He’s a man. And…I’m not.

Jim hesitates, not sure what to do now. Bones looks up at her, then, and gives her another unreadable look. “Well?” she asks. She flings her hands in the air, encompassing the whole impossible, damnable, unimaginable situation.

“Jesus, Jim,” says Bones. He’s shaking his head.

She can feel herself deflating inside, but promises herself she won’t show it. “Look, Bones, if it’s too—too much, you can move into another set of quarters for a while,” Jim says.

Just as Bones says, “You’re beautiful!”

“Huh?” says Jim, her deprecating tirade cut short.

“Why would I do that?” asks Bones. “I mean, if you don’t want me, I get it, it’s okay—“ He’s already up, grabbing some things, not looking at her, still talking. “I get it, I do, this is a lot to take in, you don’t need to feel pressured or anything—“

“Stop, stop, stop! Bones!” Jim grabs his hands, and they look at each other directly for the first time since this whole impossible thing happened. “Of course I want you here! I don’t know what I’d do without you—ever!” Bones is about half a head taller than she is now, so he has to tilt his head down while she tilts hers up to kiss him. The mouth is the same as the one she’s always known, but the slight stubble of his chin is rough against hers, rougher than she remembers. The kiss goes on for quite a while, and she can feel Bones stirring against her, his manhood pressed against her thighs. Oh wow.

Bones breaks the kiss off, then, looking at her. His expression is serious. “I’m not going to pressure you, or anything. We don’t have to do anything, we can just sleep together, like sleep-sleep, if you like, and if you want me out of here all you have to do is say so.” His eyes are dark, full of concern. Jim’s heart is warmed by the intensity of his regard.

“Not even an issue, trust me,” she says. Smiling impishly, she says, “So…shall we try out the new ride?”

Bones chuckles. “Maybe tomorrow,” he says. “You’ve had enough—Hell, ‘excitement’ doesn’t even cover it, does it? It wouldn’t be right of me to take advantage.”

“Advantage?” Jim squawks, infuriated. “It’s my body! What kind of parochial attitude—“ But Bones kisses her again, interrupting her diatribe.

“Now, now, darlin’, I still know how to get you to relax,” Bones whispers. He draws her to the bed, drawing her up flush against him. She can feel the heat of his body, of his very real physical interest hard against her.

“Bones,” she whimpers, but one hand holds her gently to him while the other brushes down her stomach, then into her pants, down—“Oh!” she says in surprise.

“Jesus, Jim!” says Bones in genuine astonishment. “You never change, do you?”

Jim doesn’t know what to say to that, she’s too busy processing the new sensations that threaten to overwhelm her. She wasn’t aware exactly of being physically excited, but with Bones’s warm hand on her mound, she can feel the friction of the wet fur, the delicious sensation of one of his fingers as it runs up and down her slit before slipping inside and toying with her clit and—

“Oh God!” she cries out in delight. Bones’s breath is heavy in her ear, and her thighs lift off the bed in excitement. His hand continues to work at her, running in gentle circles around her clit, teasing, teasing. Sweat pops up all across her body as she gasps in pleasure. She is aware of Bones murmuring endearments in her ear, telling her how beautiful she is, how hot, how he wants to see her come, wants to feel her do that, hard, right now. Her sex feels like it is burning, and his hand is firm in its movements that grow faster and faster as she comes closer to the edge of joy. She can hear the sounds of it, actually, the furious impact of skin on wet skin as he urges her toward her climax. When she orgasms, seconds later, she cries out his name.

“Wow,” she says a moment later, giddy. “I want one of these for every day!” Bones laughs, but his hand is still working. “What are you doing, I just—“

“Being a woman has several benefits from what I understand, Jim,” Bones says in his best Doctor’s voice. “One of them is multiple orgasms.”

“Oh,” says Jim. Then, in an entirely different tone, “Oh!”

Some time later, Jim is absolutely somnolent with pleasure as she cuddles up against Bones’s chest. “Long, crappy day. Totally excellent night,” she sighs contentedly.

He chuckles at that. “Glad to hear it,” says Bones.

“And we both technically have tomorrow off…” She continues.

“That’s true.” His arms tighten around her. “What are you thinking?”

“More of this.” She kisses his neck, darting a trail from shoulder to lips. “Ever had a sex marathon, Bones?” She waggles her eyebrows.

His eyes are closed, but he opens one to regard her solemnly. “You’re sure you want to do that?”

Jim sighs, awake now. “Of course I am! Why do you keep asking me that?” She sits up, frustrated. “ Jesus, Bones, you and I have only shared a bed for, what, six months now. Why is this such a big deal?”

“I don’t know,” Bones says honestly, sitting up as well. “Maybe it’s because you’re so small now. Oh, stop it, Jim, I know who you are and all that, but still. I’m a Southern gentleman, okay? And there’s this one part of me that wants to protect you and take care of you right now, and there’s this other part of me that wants to fuck your brains out, and it’s taking me some time to reconcile these things. Okay? And if I am going to take your virginity, I’m going to do it right. Dammit.” He throws himself back into the pillows forcefully, scowling.

This outburst mollifies her somewhat. Whenever Bones brings up his customary Southern honor, Jim has learned to just go with it. You can take a man out of Georgia, but you can’t take Georgia out of the man.


They wake up the next morning at the usual time. Bones gets in the bathroom for a shower, and Jim is moving on autopilot. She’s putting shaving cream on her face and getting her razor out before she realizes that both are unnessary this morning. Feeling foolish, she washes off her face and puts the razor back.

There’s a knock on the door. Rand’s voice: “Are you decent, Captain?”

“Uh, yes, Yeoman,” Jim answers. “Bones is still in the shower though.”

“Is the bathroom door closed? If not, close it, and let me in.”


Seconds later, Janice Rand is beside Jim and measuring her up visually as she holds several items of clothing up. “I had an interesting discussion with the Quartermaster for all this,” she says. “And I spoke with Nurse Chapel to get your chest measurements. Now, do you want a skant or a pants suit?”

“Today’s my day off,” Jim says querulously.

“And knowing you, you’ll spend most of it naked with Doctor McCoy. Yes, I’m well aware of that, but you will be on duty tomorrow and you will need to be dressed properly then. So shut up and try this on. Sir.” She hands Jim a golden skant with Captain’s stripes.

“You’re a closet sadist, Rand,” Jim grumps as she pulls the thing over her head.

“No closet necessary, Sir,” says Rand. She inspects her Captain carefully.

“Jesus, I knew these things were short, but really!” Jim is appalled by the length of leg and thigh exposed by the garment. She walks around experimentally, trying to get a feel for it.

“Try on the boots,” says Rand. “I requested that they have short heels. If you want longer ones you’ll need to work on your balance, first, unless you’ve worn heels before. And if you have? Please never tell me.”

“No, not really my scene,” says Jim. The boots fit fine, their height covering up some of the flesh on display. She walks around some more. “What do you think, Yeoman?”

“I think you need to give me a raise, Sir,” she says promptly.

“And aside from that?”

“You look good,” Rand says, smug. “I’ll leave the rest of these here and will see you in your mess shortly, Sir.” She salutes, and is gone promptly.

Just in time, too, as Bones is out of the shower now, a towel wrapped around his waist as he pulls his off-duty blacks out of their shared chest of drawers. He hasn’t looked up yet, moving methodically. Bones is not a morning person, unlike Jim; he needs at least two cups of coffee in the morning before they can have a conversation that doesn’t involve grunts or monosyllables.

Jim coughs pointedly, until he turns and looks at her. He blinks, eyes round. “Dammit, Jim,” is all he says, and then he takes her in his arms, kissing her hard. He’s not gentle about it, either, and Jim is as shocked at his complete abandon as she is delighted in it.

His hands slide under the skant, pulling it up over her breasts. Her bra is unhooked in seconds, and then his mouth is on one of her nipples. Jim hisses in surprise; she wasn’t expecting the intensity of the sensation she feels from that simple act, and it sends a bolt of pleasure down to her thighs, which are starting to feel like molten gold. Then both of her breasts are in his hands, thumbs moving over her hard nipples as his mouth returns to hers, and then his hands are pulling her panties down, throwing them aside and one finger is sliding into her—

“Bones,” she moans into his mouth, shuddering hard as she comes. When he takes his hand from her she feels painfully empty, and she wants more, and the air on her damp thighs just stokes that hungry feeling. “Bones!” she says again, a plea.

“Hush, darlin’,” he says, and then she’s on the bed and he’s lost his towel.

Jim is suddenly shaking, quivering really as she sits on the bed, regarding him. She’s done this before, she tells herself—she’s done it with Bones loads of times, at that, and yet, something about this time is different. She’s not sure if it’s only her physical body or if it’s something else altogether.

Bones is pulling her boots off, throwing them aside, and then his mouth is on her clit and Jim loses coherent thought for a while. She returns to herself when Bones is kissing her mouth again, and she can taste herself on him.

“Do I taste different to you, Bones?” she asks, curiously.

“A little bit, I think,” he says.

“Better or worse?”

“Just different is all,” he answers with a shrug. “Do you not like something? We can stop—“

“Don’t you dare stop!” Jim says, and pulls him to her. He’s on top, his weight squashing her into the bed, and she can feel his erection hard against her. Her sex is wet, aching, and she is hyper-aware of the need she has for him, right now. “Now, Bones! Please!”

He nods, kissing her again, and positions her carefully. “This is gonna hurt a little bit, Jim,” he says very seriously. His eyes bore into hers. “I’m gonna go as slow as I can—“

“I don’t care, Bones. I need you right now.” As the words come out, Jim realizes that this isn’t just about the sex (although it kind of is), but about how she needs to feel something like normal, and sex with Bones is the most normal thing in her world right now—the one thing that reassures her. Bones spares her a dark, hazel glance as he seems to lock thoughts with her, and then he’s at her entrance. Before he pushes in, he gathers her to him, kissing her once more, and then he’s inside her.

He inhales sharply, an intense look of concentration on his face as he moves slowly. “You okay, Jim?” he asks, his voice hoarse.

“Uh huh,” she says. Nothing hurts, and she wonders what the fuss is all about. And then he’s a little farther in, and then she feels something give. “Oh!” she says, grasping his shoulders hard in surprise. Bones hisses, and she realizes that she has scratched him unknowingly. “Sorry,” she mumbles, but then he’s kissing her again, her mouth, her cheeks, her forehead.

“I love you, Jim,” he’s whispering. “I love you, I’ll always love you, I’ll never leave you, never—“ He’s saying the words like they are a mantra of some kind. Hell, maybe they are, because he’s moving in a rhythm now, and Jim finds herself moving with him. It’s like being pulled in with the tide, she thinks vaguely, and gives into it, meeting his thrusts, and soon urging him on. She comes once; twice; the third time they come together and collapse on the bed, sweaty and sticky and breathing hard. After a moment, Bones extricates himself, slipping out of her and rolling onto his back beside her.

“I think you were showing off there,” Jim says when she can speak again.

“Damn right,” he answers. He looks at the clock on the night stand; it reads 0815. “Shit,” he says. “Your Yeoman is gonna kill us.”

Jim laughs in response. “Doubt it. There’s a reason she gave me the skant before the pants, I think.”

“You need to approve that raise for her, then,” Bones says, and pulls her to him, tucking her head under his chin, running his fingers through her hair absentmindedly.

“I think I might have to at that,” Jim agrees. She surveys the mussed bed before them; the white sheets have small red stains here and there. “I’m bleeding,” she says in surprise.

“It’s perfectly normal, Jim,” Bones says. He rubs her back reassuringly, concentric small circles between her shoulderblades.

“Yeah. Still. Weird.”

Bones laughs. “Jim, we’ve fought time travelers, escaped black holes, and now sex-change machines. Weird is officially normal for us, and normal is officially weird.” Bones keeps laughing; it’s a remarkably free sound, echoing in his chest under her ear. He is shaking with mirth, and Jim starts to smile at it too, then she wilts a little.

“Yeah, but is this not too weird?” She gestures at her body, the blood on the sheets. “I mean, seriously, Bones? What if I’m never back to normal again? What if I’m like this forever?”

“Well let’s see,” Bones says thoughtfully. “You would be the Captain of the Enterprise. You’d be living with me. You’d have gorgeous breasts.” He shakes his head, teasing her. “There is no down side here as near as I can tell.”

“Seriously?” asks Jim.

“Seriously,” says Bones.


Jim isn’t sure why she’s so weirded out by the whole thing. There are definitely moments when this whole being a woman thing is kind of nice. Later they are in the tub, and Bones is gently washing her hair. If she were a cat, Jim would purr with the pleasure of his fingers soaping her skull and running through her hair. If she ever becomes a guy again, she might start growing her hair out just so that Bones will never stop doing this.

She is sore from their bout of lovemaking, too. Swollen muscles between her legs, brand new and unused to such exertions, throb slightly, but the hot water helps. The water is slightly pink when she slips in at first, bits of dried blood dispersing into the hot soapy water, then dissipating completely. When Bones has finished washing her hair, he pulls her to him, tucking her head under his chin once more. He makes a sound of contentment that rumbles under her ear.

“Happy?” she asks.

“Mmhmm.” He squeezes her affectionately. “You?”

“I guess. Still kinda sore though.”

“That should wear off by tomorrow. Maybe a little longer, depends.” They are quiet for a moment. “I know this whole thing is hard on you, Jim. And I’ll be glad when you’re back to your normal self and all. But right now, as near as we can tell from the tests we ran yesterday, you’re perfectly healthy.”

“Sex changing machines are easy, huh?” Jim says dubiously.

“Depends on the culture,” says Bones. “I mean, for Earth they are pretty unusual, but it’s like most Human attitudes towards genetic engineering in general—we have such a gut response to it being evil from the Eugenics Wars that we don’t think about the positive aspects of it.”

“You really think there are positives about this stuff?” Jim turns so she can look up at him curiously. His damp hair is plastered to his skull, and stray droplets run down the side of his face to his neck, leaving little trails like tears.

“In some ways,” he answers. “From a purely scientific point of view, changing genders can help curtail certain genetic diseases that are carried on sex-linked chromosomes. There’s also the therapeutic aspect for people who experience gender confusion, or traumas. From what I read about the Faradi before we went to their planet, their culture placed an unusually high preference on the male sex. It’s probable that they developed machines like the one they got you into for families who only had one child, and wanted it to be a male.”

“That’s so…wrong, though,” she says.

“In some ways, yes,” Bones says. “I mean, it’s preferable to infanticide, if you think about it that way.”

“I just can’t imagine wanting to change so extremely!”

“Said the gorgeous, brilliant Starship Captain,” he teased, biting her ear. “Sorry, kid, but not everyone is as lucky as you—and you are lucky.”

Jim shakes her head. “I’ll take your word on all that.” She lightly splashes him with water.

“You should, I’m a Doctor.” He splashes her back.

She giggles, and the situation devolves from there.


They end up emerging from their quarters at noon to have lunch in the mess hall. Jim and Bones both opt for their off-duty blacks. Everyone on the ship knows the situation now, and Jim has her game face on. However, at most they receive some curious looks and a few double-takes. She orders a turkey sandwich and a coffee, and they’ve just sat down with their food when they are joined by Uhura and Chekov.

“How are you doing, Captain?” Nyota asks. Jim smiles at her. Half a year of serving together hasn’t made them friends exactly, but they do like and respect one another now.

“Better than I’dve expected,” Jim says honestly.

Nyota raises an eyebrow, then looks at the pair of them before breaking into one of her wide smiles. “I’m glad,” she says sincerely. “I was worried.”

“I didn’t know you cared, Lieutenant,” says Jim.

“Oof course ve care, Keptin,” says Chekov. He is more than slightly pink about the ears as he speaks. He didn’t used to blush when he talked to me. “Ve all vant oor Keptin well.” Chekov smiles at her and then keeps his eyes on his own food—in this case a bowl of heavy borscht.

“I’m glad to know that, Ensign,” Jim says warmly.

Chekov nods, turns beet-red (almost as dark as his soup), and answers, “Alvays, Keptin.”

“How are you and Scotty doing with that Faradi machine?” Bones asks.

Chekov’s color begins to fade to normal once they are on the subject of mechanics. He burbles along in techobabble for a minute, before concluding, “Ve think ve vill heff it rewersed in a couple oof veeks.”

”Weeks?” Jim repeats, startled.

Chekov begins to blush again. “Aye, Keptin. Soorry, sir, but ve vant to test it several times before ve attempt to use it on you. And eet is similar enough to other machines that ve think ve know the arrangements of its molecular arrangement algorithms, but ve vant to cross-reference oor sources first. Ve are scheduled to be at Starbase Nine zen as well, and ve vill have some analysts meet us there.”

“Good plan,” says Bones. He gives Jim a significant look. Jim subsides, but can’t help but feel disappointed nonetheless.

“I heard you’ll be back to duty tomorrow, Sir?” asks Nyota. Jim glances at her; his Communications officer is deftly changing the subject.

“Planning on it,” says Jim. She smiles brightly—possibly too brightly, if Bones’s glance is any indication. “I’m a workaholic and I miss the bridge.” That much is true.

“Commander Spock will be back then as vell, von’t he?” asks Chekov.

Nyota glows a little at that. “Yes,” she says, “yes, he will.”

Converation turns general after that, and then it’s time for Uhura and Chekov to go back on duty. Jim feels restless. Normally on their days off, he and Bones take it easy, reading or playing tri-dimensional chess, or recreational activities similar to those they’ve already experienced. A warm glow begins to take root in her belly as her body takes interest in that possibility. “So Bones, what next?” Jim asks.

Bones seems to catch her mood, and gives her one of his patented “I’m in public but that doesn’t mean I can’t eye-fuck you” looks, and they head back to their quarters.


Continued here.

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