Date: Wed, 14 Jan 1998 20:15:42 -0500 (EST)

From: Laura Jacquez Valentine 

Subject: New: A Pair of Aging Queens 1/2 (TOS, K/S/Mc, R)





This was inspired by whoever brought up the movie review...

"McCoy and Spock fight for Kirk's attention like a pair of aging

queens." Star Trek and its component bits are owned by Paramount. This

story belongs to my own personal self, but I promise to put the toys

back when I'm done with them.



Rated R for innuendo, cross-dressing, and smooching.  Yay Puritan

America. (There was this thing on HBO--ads from other countries.  it

kicked ass. it also had a lot of bare asses in it.  dammit, this

country sucks. --stranded in Pennsylvania)



 -----



Leonard McCoy tapped his fingers irritably on the table in the

officers' mess.  Spock was playing chess with Jim again tonight.  In

the Captain's quarters, apparently, since neither of them had shown up

here.  Len scowled ferociously and looked up as someone else entered

the room.  But it was only Uhura.  She smiled at him, and started to

come over, but he deepened his scowl and turned away.  He began

scratching the table surface just for variety.  After another

half-hour, he became conscious of the stares of other officers and

left, biting back the impulse to scream "Cain't a man be in a bad mood

once in a while?".



He went to his quarters, barely glancing at Kirk's along the way. 

Once home, he locked his door and opened his closet.  There was a

false wall installed in the back, and he slid it aside with an ease

born of frequent practice.  He took out his makeup kit and his

favorite dress, a frilly blue affair that brought out the color of his

eyes.



Lovingly, he dressed himself, carefully pulling back his hair and skin

with a stocking so that he could do his makeup.  Nothing flamboyant,

not today--just hiding the flaws in his skin and bringing out his eyes

(ooh, so large, he thought.  And such a lovely shade.).  He ducked

back into the closet to find his wig, with its soft brown rag-curls,

perfectly spiralled.



"There."  It didn't matter that his real hair was graying, not when

his wig covered it.  It didn't matter that his skin was starting to

sag, when it still pulled back so nicely.  He preened for a moment,

then waved his hand at the mirror.  "I now pronounce you Lynette!"



She fluttered her fingers at herself.  "Why, I declare!"  Then she set

her lips and set out to get her man.



----



Lynette exited her quarters and brushed an errant strand of hair back

from her face before setting off for Jim's quarters.  Enough was

enough.



His door was locked.  She pressed the buzzer with a carefully painted

fingernail, a disdainful look on her face.



"Who is it?"  The captain sounded a little breathless.  Well, she'd

fix that.



"McCoy," she said, sweetly.



"Mc--Come in."



Lynette swept into the room.  Jim was sitting at his desk. Shirtless. 

The chess pieces were scattered on the floor, and Spock was nowhere to

be seen.



Kirk shot out of his seat.  "Bones?"



"Sometimes.  But you can call me Lynnie."



"Lynnie."  Something in the captain's tone said that he didn't quite

believe his eyes.  Lynette moved closer, until she was close enough to

touch him.  



"Yes, Jim."  She started stroking his shoulders, pressing downward

gently, until he dropped back into his seat.  "I've been hoping you

would come see me, but you're always so busy with *him*..."  She bent

towards him and licked her lips.  "But *he* isn't here."



"Bone--Lynnie, he--"



She kissed him.  After a second, his lips parted beneath hers.  With

one hand, she raised her skirts and slid one knee between his thighs,

pressing her breasts against his neck.  He raised his hands as if to

push her away, but somehow they became tangled in the frilly fabric--



And then Spock was on them.



He was wet, having just come from the shower.  He was catlike, fast

and strong.  He was long and lean and naked, and he was angry.



Lynette managed to cushion her head when he threw her against the

wall.



"You think you can have him all to yourself?"  she screamed.  "Who do

you think you are?  I've known him longer!"



Spock was very still for an instant.  Then he slapped her across the

face. "Bitch!"  He placed his hands on his hips, as if challenging her

to strike back.



Lynette lunged forward and raked her nails over his face.  Faint green

streaks appeared and began to leak blood over the Vulcan's face.



Spock tossed his head.  "He's always been mine, *Lynnie*.  For years

and years.  *I* kiss him.  *I* sleep with him.  And lots of times, *I*

let him do things to me.  Things he's never wanted to do to *you*." 



"You wish, Spock," Lynette sneered.



Spock raised his hand again--and suddenly Kirk was in the way.



"Ladies.  Please."



They both stared at him, breathing hard.  "I know both of you very

well. Well enough to know two things:  One, you want each other just

as much as you want me, and two, there's enough of me to go around." 

He looked at them, wearing his best innocent face.



Spock swallowed.  Lynette licked her lips.  Then she reached out with

both hands--one to touch Kirk's stomach gently, and the other to trace

the curve of Spock's hip.



"A lady knows when to bow to superior wisdom,"  she said.



"As does a Vulcan," he replied.



-----



The End.  *smirk*



--t'Aman



laura jacquez valentine -+- carnegie mellon -+- alpha phi omega

laurav@stones.com -+- http://www.andrew.cmu.edu/~jacquez

"Is Xena's frisbee magical or what?"





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