Disclaimer: I don't not own Star Trek or any of its characters. Do you THINK I would be here if I did?! So I don't in any way shape or form own any of the plot or the characters. They belong to whoever owns 'em. I just took the general idea for a test jaunt. So, don't sue me...not that it would be beneficial, as I am a poor university student, yadda yadda yadda.

Authors Note #1: This ficlet is a story building off the episode: "Mirror, Mirror" from the original series, season two. I got the idea as to how Spock and the Mirror McCoy might have reacted to one another from the episode itself. I felt that the small scene from the episode was much too brief of a snippet on the Mirror characters on the U.S.S Enterprise that it was more like a teaser! (I mean...am I the only one that was utterly fascinated with how the mirror crew actually behaved on the ship before being discovered and thrown in the brig?) Therefore I fabricated what I thought could have gone on in the meantime. It was one of those rabid plot bunnies that knaw on your brain until you finally give in and write the darn thing.

Authors Note #2: Unlike in a Zoo, please feel free to feed the author! Your reviews not only give me a warm fuzzy feeling inside, but they also help me improve myself. So yes, please read and review.

A Mirror Strangely Twisted

Chapter One - "I recall drivin' home, this ain't gonna hit me till God knows when,
You know I feel it in my bones and I wear it on my skin"

From the very first moment the landing party rematerialized on the transporter pad he had sensed something was amiss. The thought itself was so utterly illogical that he knew if he ever mentioned it to the Doctor; he would never hear the end of it. However, despite how illogical it was, how it went against nearly every mental teaching he and his kind held dear, this feeling...this sense of wrongness refused to pass, despite even the strength of his rigid disciplines. Instead it battered at him, persistently ramming at his mental barriers, absolutely refusing to be suppressed while at the same time remaining entirely vague as to its purpose.

Perhaps he had finally developed that strange second sense that the Doctor and the Captain always joked about, when they claimed to be able to sense when something wasn't quite right. However, he doubted such a prognosis was neither logical...nor encouraging, and forced himself to expel the thought from his mind as he watched the Transporter Chief work the controls, devoting himself solely to the task at hand.

However, this thought rose up again, seeping underneath his emotional barriers like mist from the ground as the landing party slowly appeared, the shimmering beam creating a momentary golden glow throughout the room as the transportation process ended and they began to move forward. Through his peripheral vision he watched as they halted only a few steps off the transporter pad, struck absolutely dumbfounded as they looked about them..turning towards each other as he only half-listened to Lieutenant Kyle's explanation for the rough beam up.

As Doctor McCoy would likely say in such a situation, "Something definitely didn't smell right." And despite everything, he was forced to momentarily wonder if the irritable surgeon simply enjoyed creating strange Earth euphemisms solely in the hopes of mentally besting him...

They all wore expressions he had never seen his fellow officers wear, there was now a hardness...a loathingly disgusted expression that seemed to permanently twist their features...A look that only further hardened when nearly as one their hands had dropped to their waists, their grasping fingers clutching strangely at empty air, as if they had expected something else to be there. 'Most strange..' He noted as he analyzed their reactions attempting to find the meaning to their abnormal behaviour.

It was Lieutenant Uhura who moved first, stumbling forward as if suddenly finding herself off-balance, her hands pulling at the collar of her uniform dress, mouth opening to say something as her hand leapt to the Captains shoulder. But her barely expressed exclamation died prematurely on her lips, her hand retracting from the Captain's shoulder as if burned when his hand snapped up and formed a brutal fist, a harsh sneer marring his lips...the gesture violently demanding silence and unquestioning obedience.

The Captain himself seemed to be feverishly calculating the situation, his eyes snapping from the walls, to the others in the room, and even to himself, his fingers pulling at his uniform shirt as his gaze lingered strangely on his first officers face.

But before he could ask Jim about this odd behaviour, Lieutenant Kyle distracted his attention once again, remarking on the strange phenomena that had affected the beam up, causing the transporter beam to shift momentarily during the rematerialization process.

By the time he had ordered a complete system check on the transporters, the Captain had turned swiftly to the others, speaking only a few clipped sentences, the words too low for him to hear as they all nodded in silent agreement. They were halfway to the door before he joined them, his presence bringing them to a sudden halt as he stationed himself at his accustomed place at the Captain's left side.

"Can I help you Mr. Spock?" The Captain spat bitingly, his eyes sweeping up and down his figure roughly as if considering him, his hand coming up to halt the others who had come up behind him. Raising an eyebrow he too stopped, searching the Captain's unaccustomedly hard features, seeking answers for this new and disturbing behaviour before he finally answered. "The department reports Captain. There was some minor damage to ships systems during the ion storm. If you will permit me?" He questioned, his eyes straying for a moment to inspect the others equally hard facial expressions, finding nothing encouraging in their stony features, nor in the glacial glint that resided in their eyes. He was missing something, this much he knew... It was something elusive, something impossible. 'What is going on here?'

"Of course.... Well? Get on with it then!" The man replied condescendingly, his entire demeanour expressing impatience and barely concealed distrust as his hand wildly gestured for him to continue. His remaining eyebrow mirrored the arch of the other, but he refrained from commenting..perhaps they were ill..or still disoriented from the difficult beam up...the ionic interference had been severe after all.

"Mr. Scott, Doctor, there are minor repairs and injuries requiring your attention in your respected areas, I suggest you tend to them. Lieutenant Uhura, please inform Starfleet Command of the results of the latest progress in procuring a trade agreement with the Halkan Council. Full status reports by 1200 if you please." He reported stoically, mildly surprised when they looked first to the Captain for an affirming nod before they all nodded in agreement.

The senior Engineer was the first to depart; an unaccustomedly unpleasant expression curling the Scottish mans usually pleasant face as he pushed past them. Eying Mr. Kyle with a oddly calculating expression before he crossed the room, pausing only once at the doors where he stooped to inspect the control panel, looking at it as if he had never seen it before, strangely giving himself a small satisfied nod as he trailed a hand along the bulkhead as the doors slid closed behind them. At another nod from the Captain Uhura fled as well, her eyes darting about the area around her, as if on the alert for some sort of attack only she could anticipate, still pulling oddly at the collar of her uniform as the doors swished closed behind her.

The Doctor however remained, a slight smile gracing his features. However the expression held none of its accustomed warmth, instead he seemed entirely unconcerned at his impertinence, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet, his hands posed behind his back, looking for all the world as if he was enjoying his own private joke at their expense. But regardless of these strange things more then anything so far, Spock found that the warped mockery of the Doctor's true smile disturbed him far more then he'd ever care to admit.

But again before he could comment, the Captain soundly cut him off. "Mr. Spock, I want those transporter circuits checked. Take the whole damn thing apart if you have to. But I want answers! I want an explanation by the end of the hour and not a minute later! And I order you to see to this personally. Those are my orders." He demanded abruptly before leaving with a flourish, looking both left and right before he started down the hall, leaving only Doctor McCoy, the shell-shocked transporter chief, and himself alone in the room.

Turning, he addressed the open-mouthed lieutenant. "Mr. Kyle, I suggest you begin the analysis immediately, I will join you shortly." He replied, waiting till the flummoxed man nodded and left the room to obtain the proper tools.

Determined to get some answers he turned back to the transporter, intent on questioning the Georgian surgeon when realized that Doctor had moved to stand directly beside him, looking pointedly up at him. He had never even heard the doctor move. "Doctor, did something occur on the planet? Where is your medical tricorder?" He asked sternly, his expression a stony mask to cover his confusion at the Doctor's closeness and a growing sense of disquiet about the entire situation.

But the Doctor refused to reply, his eyes merely flickering to the door and then back to him again as he fingered his medical pouch, almost caressing the medical hypo sprays inside as he wordlessly inspected his face. After a long moment he smirked and shook his head, as if having suddenly come to some sort of inner deduction, his face a carefully constructed canvas that betrayed none of his thoughts...so very different from the expressive and open-faced Doctor that had dematerialized from that very same pad only a few short hours ago.

Finally, the Doctor nodded, inclining his head towards him as he made to move, and with one smooth movement he turned on his heel and brushed boldly past him. But as he did so, his hand came up, deliberately ghosting across the expanse of his chest as he past, halting only once at the door as it hissed open at his approach, looking back at him with an openly heated expression before the hard smirk returned and the doors closed, masking him from view.

The entire action nearly sent him reeling as his unprepared shields were suddenly bombarded by the jumbled and confused images that made up the Doctor's thoughts. It was then that he realized just how fully wrong the situation was. For what he saw there had been darkness, a mind that dwelled in a half-shielded gloom, tempered with razor-sharp edges of violence and hate...a lifetime of hardness was what he found in the Doctors mind.

And in that split-second of contact he felt what the doctor felt, he saw what the doctor saw...he knew what the doctor knew...and in that touch, however brief, he felt the wrongness of it all...This was not his McCoy! None of them were!

A/N: Well it is up to you guys, do you think this merits continuing? Review and let me know!

A/N: My chapter title is lyrics from Thriving Ivory's song: "Twilight". The band is awesome, check them out on youtube or what not!