Of Knights and Rooks
Chapter One: Personal Space
Well… here it is, my first Star Trek fanfic. I definitely should have gotten into this series long ago, but there's nothing to be done about it now. Except obsess over it. More importantly, this fanfic will contain slash. Yes, m/m slash. If that doesn't float your boat, please back out of here quickly to avoid further retina scarring. Thank you, and have a nice day.
However, if you do like it, I'd love to see a review. Reviews make me write faster, after all!
My Star Trek knowledge is incomplete, so bear with me while I horribly screw some things up. Feel free to point them out to me, of course. Expect some OOC, for this is intended to be humorous.
I do not own anything, nor am I profiting on this. But I'm sure you guessed that.
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A rather loud beeping sound in his ear woke him before the pain did. Doctor McCoy pulled himself upright quickly, to find he had been thrown into Spock's station, and had definitely slammed his head against the monitors, thus the beeping noise. He groaned and glanced around the bridge to see the rest of the damage. The lights were dimmed, clearly a lack of power—at least to the bridge itself. Everyone else seemed unconscious, but alive thankfully. The Captain had been thrown clear of his seat and was the closest to him, so McCoy bent down and shook his shoulder. "Jim," He noted that his voice sounded a bit off, but that could be explained away due to however long he'd been unconscious. "Wake up. The crew…" He started, glancing over as Uhura stirred. "What happened?" The question wasn't directed to anyone in particular, though the communications expert turned her head slightly.
"I don't know." She replied, though the expression on her face was a bit odd. "We were being hailed by an oncoming vessel and then…" She trailed off with a small shrug. "I woke up. That's it."
The Captain stirred, sitting up with the shake of his head, expressionless. "Damage report?" He asked, brushing the doctor's hand off his shoulder as he stood, despite the fact that a clearly forming lump on his head had to be causing him a decent amount of pain, at least.
"Cap'n," The voice of Scott echoed over the comm., "we've lost our shields, an' power's been drained. It'll take a few days fer everythin' t' get back up'n runnin'."
The Captain was oddly silent, a pensive look taking hold on his face. McCoy frowned and crossed his arms, wondering what was taking so long for him to give the usual command of 'Get on with it, Mr. Scott.' "Jim," He started, moving closer to the gold-clad man.
Kirk practically jumped out of his thoughts, turning to look at the doctor, before a strange look crossed his face. Still nearly expressionless, but the look he was giving the doctor was unnerving. "Yes, Mr. Scott. Please continue."
Before McCoy had time to figure out what that look was for, a sound from behind the Captain's chair caught his attention. Perhaps it was one of the Yeomen, but on closer inspection, they were all back at their stations. It must have been Spock then, but what the hell was he doing over there? "Oh god, my head. Status report?" He asked, the voice sounding vaguely familiar, but McCoy was unable to place it. It was only as the man rose into view that he fully understood why the Captain had given him such an odd look.
Doctor McCoy stood behind that chair, rubbing his temples and looking about at the crew expectantly. Blank stares were all exchanged before Sulu, apparently having regained consciousness at some point, cautiously stated, "I believe there were a few injuries, sir."
Instead of the usual eyebrow-lift, the McCoy behind the chair frowned. "I meant of the ship itself, Mr. Sulu."
Before anymore blank stares could be passed, the Captain nodded toward the lift. "Doctor, Mr… ah… Spock, if you will." He started toward the lift, and as it opened, motioned for both McCoys to follow him. The one behind the chair continued to rub at his head, but didn't seem overly concerned. The one in the science station stared blankly, but finally followed.
"What the blue blazes is going on?" McCoy finally asked, mainly to the second McCoy. "And who the hell are you?"
The second McCoy looked rather miffed, immediately responding, "Captain James T. Kirk, as if you didn't already know that, Mr. Spock."
"What! I'm no damned green-blooded hobgoblin!"
"Clearly there has been some sort of mix-up." The Captain stated, hands clasped behind his back and speaking in a way that clearly marked him as anyone but their fearless leader. "Captain, it appears as though you have taken on the appearance of the doctor. And Doctor McCoy, you appear to have taken on my appearance."
The doctor blinked, letting that information sink in, before tentatively reaching up to touch his ears. Sure enough, instead of curving in a circular shape, they rose up to points. "Oh hell," He breathed out, eyes wide. "You mean to tell me that…?"
"We've switched bodies?" Captain Kirk, in McCoy's body, finished, pulling on the hem of the blue short-sleeved shirt. "That's not possible, Spock."
"Apparently, it is." The science officer replied, not moving from his position. He ordered the lift to stop, keeping them suspended between two decks.
"What will we do?" McCoy was the first to ask, awkwardly folding his arms. Spock's arms seemed longer, but perhaps that was just his imagination playing games with him.
The Captain looked as though he was about to shrug, before suddenly getting that 'I have a great idea' look—one that didn't quite fit on McCoy's features. "Until we can figure out exactly what happened, gentlemen, we can't cause the crew to panic. Perhaps we're the only ones affected by this."
"Highly illogical," Spock, in Jim's body, interrupted, hands remaining in the neutral position behind his back. "Whatever force caused us to exchange appearances would undoubtedly affect more than just us three."
"Let's say hypothetically it did." Kirk continued, brushing off Spock's remark with a shrug. Doctor McCoy shrugging off a remark from the Captain seemed a little odd, and the real McCoy was very glad they were alone on the lift. "If we're the only three who are mixed up. The crew would go nuts. And can you imagine the rumors? With over four-hundred people on my ship, I can't let it get out of control."
"You mean, his ship." McCoy pointed at Spock, who attempted to raise an eyebrow. Apparently Kirk's eyebrows weren't as flexible as the Vulcan's, for he merely managed a strained look. "He's in your body."
"Yes, yes…" Kirk mused, rubbing at his chin thoughtfully. "We'll have to pretend to be who we are right now, to avoid mass hysteria."
Spock didn't look overly pleased, but then again, that was the usual expression on Kirk's face. "Highly illogical." He murmured, more to himself than the other two. "Surely there's a better way…"
"That's an order," Kirk added, clapping a hand to the now-shorter man's shoulder. "Congratulations on making Captain, Mr. Spock."
McCoy could have sworn he heard the man sigh.
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Several disorganized hours later, the trio managed to get a rather decent grasp on what was happening. Something had hit the ship—or fired on it—and they were currently running on backup power, with crews working to repair the ship. There had been no complaints of body-switching, so perhaps it really had only affected them. Curious, Spock thought as he awkwardly mimicked Kirk's position of crossing one leg over the other. All his life he had been told that expressing one's emotions was wrong. That logic was the source of understanding. And now he had to act like the Captain. Thankfully it wasn't the Doctor, he would allow himself that brief emotion. Pretending to be angry all the time for ridiculous reasons would get tiresome.
"Captain to Mr. Scott. How are the engines looking?"
"Ach, sir, it'll take 'em quite a while t' get back up t' full power. We're doin' all we can down 'ere." Scott's voice crackled over the comm., before the device finally gave up and sputtered static.
Spock had to remember to frown before turning it off, wondering what the Captain would do. Would he go down there and help? But he might be needed up here. Logically he should send someone specialized down to see if Scott needed assistance. But the Captain was—more often than not—illogical. Especially in his approach toward the ship. Spock would admit, Kirk had saved them with his strange reasoning many times, but that didn't make it easy on him in this position.
"Stupid piece of junk," McCoy grumbled into the scanners, trying to figure out what the mass of numbers and decimal points was supposed to mean. How had this happened? And why did he have to reside in that green-blooded sonofabitch's body? He had long since given up trying to be stoic and emotionless, and a deep-seated frown was etched across Spock's face.
"Sir?" Uhura asked, glancing over at who she believed was the First Officer. She could have sworn she heard him cursing one of the machines he seemed so fond of.
"Hm?" McCoy glanced over, and stated, a bit loudly, "I didn't say anything. Perhaps your inferior human hearing has rendered you incapable of performing your duties?"
Uhura gasped, quite taken aback by the sudden attack. The last time anyone had seen Spock act irrational was Pon Farr, and that was certainly not something any of them wanted to see again.
Spock, in the Captain's body, had certainly heard that remark, and had to remember that he was supposed to be Kirk, which kept him from blocking it out emotionlessly. "Mr. Spock, come with me." He ordered, watching as the Doctor slid away from the science station. Again Spock tried for the eyebrow-lift, and again Kirk's face failed to pull it off. "What was that all about, Doctor?" It was asked so innocently, McCoy found it hard to believe it was genuine.
"Well what do you think!" He burst out in exasperation, folding his arms. "Here I am, stuck in your body, having to deal with machines that make absolutely no sense! I'm a doctor, dammit, not a physicist!"
"On the contrary, Doctor. It makes perfect sense." Spock responded levelly, stopping the turbolift and exiting. McCoy recognized it as his hall, and was all too happy to see the Sickbay. Unfortunately, it wasn't in the proper order he'd left it in.
"What the hell's going on in here?" He asked, once again revealing that spike of temper that was so uncharacteristic of the body he was currently in. Luckily for the trio, no one else was in the Sickbay. Nurse Chapel had decided to take an early lunch after the morning's rather odd occurrences.
"Oh, Bones, there you are!" Kirk appeared from around a corner, seemingly interested in the many colored discs he was holding. "Did you know that there's some rather fascinating information on these, Spock?"
"I wouldn't have guessed."
"Put those back, Jim! You're running my organization! And those are private patient records!"
"I never knew you put Spock on suicide watch, Bones!" By now it had become a jest, and Kirk waved a disc in Spock's direction tauntingly. The other man settled for what appeared to be a blank look on Kirk's face, but was obviously his normal expressionless demeanor.
"Give me that!" McCoy snapped, making a lunge for it and catching Kirk's hand. McCoy had never been the fighter—that was the other two's job, but controlling the Vulcan's immense strength was certainly not something he had expected. The resounding crack nearly had Spock wincing.
"Perhaps you should have remembered, Doctor. Vulcans are stronger than humans." He put in needlessly, as Kirk let out a rather pained whimper, and McCoy dragged him upright.
Gritting his teeth, the doctor put Kirk on the table (easier with the Vulcan's strength than he had imagined) and grabbed the hypodermic he needed. It was odd, examining a broken wrist on his own body, but he was the doctor here. "Now would be a great time to put that logic of yours to use and shut the hell up!"
Spock's silence indicated that while obeying, he was rather miffed about it. The expression on the Captain's body, however, was nearly one of confusion. McCoy briefly wondered if Spock really didn't know much about expressing emotions, but remembered he had a broken wrist to attend to. His broken wrist. Sweet Jesus, this was going to get confusing real damn fast.
