Disclaimer: I still don't own Star Trek…

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A/N: I'm so sorry! It's been ages and ages (and ages and ages) since I last updated. My Star Trek muse disappeared, and then my fanfiction muse followed it. But now I'm finally back… with chapter seventeen… but you knew that already.

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Identity Crisis

Chapter Seventeen –The Tourist

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Chekov wasn't sure what to expect. The trip out of his body had been somewhat confusing and traumatic. But coming back was gentler. He wasn't rushed through someone else's disconnected memories. Instead it felt like he was gliding weightless through the air, towards the Chekov body that he now realized he'd missed.

Suddenly his leg hurt. And he had a headache.

A big, happy grin plastered itself over his face. He was back! The feeling of elation swept over him, and he had a sudden urge to get up and do a happy dance. He fought the urge and said, "I'm back!"

"As am I," Spock said slowly, as though he wasn't sure if it could actually be true.

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The walrus-lady had demanded a tour of the ship. McCoy had taken her through the hallways, and she'd been especially excited when he'd taken some time to eat lunch. (YOUR FOOD IS SO STRANGE! she'd said. AND LUNCH IS A FUN WORD. HMM. SO IS BREAKFAST. AND DINNER. HUMAN MEALS HAVE FUN NAMES!)

McCoy decided that the next place to take her would be sick bay. Other than Chekov and a few other people with minor injuries, the main room was empty. That was strange. There were always supposed to be nurses on duty. There were supposed to be a few nurses on duty.

This must be Roberts's doing. Had he just told everyone to go to their rooms?

I SINCERELY DOUBT THAT, the walrus-lady said. WE HEAR NOISE FROM THAT WAY. The walrus-person pointed McCoy's hand in the direction of his office.

"Huh?" McCoy wondered aloud. Now that he listened closely, he could hear a muffled sound coming from his office. He could swear he heard phaser fire.

Really, what had Roberts done?

He cautiously walked towards his office, and the sounds grew louder. There were laughing voices, phasers, something that sounded like the Orion language, and… no, that wasn't possible. There were tribbles in his office.

He hovered outside the door for a moment, but the walrus-person grew impatient and walked his body through.

The scene that met his eyes was rather surprising. His entire medical staff and many of the ship's ensigns were clustered around his computer (and a few other portable consoles that someone had procured). Nurse Chapel sat at McCoy's computer, blasting virtual tribbles with a joystick someone had ordered from the computer.

A young man in science blue looked up as he entered. "Hey, Doctor," he said casually.

McCoy had at least expected everyone to be embarrassed that they were in his office playing video games. They should have jumped up, nervously trying to clear the screens and stammer out a greeting and excuse. But this? Nurse Chapel didn't even tear her gaze away from the tribble-shooting game.

"What is going on?" he finally asked.

YOU MEAN THIS IS NOT NORMAL? The walrus-lady asked innocently. McCoy was glad she'd stopped using his mouth.

Nurse Chapel finally finished off the last of the tribbles and sat up facing him. "You said we could play a few days ago," she said. "Before anyone beamed down to Seti Olan Three and got mixed up. I wasn't on duty, so I assumed the offer was still standing."

"Nurse," McCoy said slowly, "We were 'mixed up' before we beamed down. I didn't not ask you to shoot tribbles on my computer."

"Oh!" Nurse Chapel said, standing up quickly. "I'm sorry, Doctor. No one told us, and we assumed that the switch had happened on the planet."

McCoy sighed. "Fine, fine. What are you playing, anyway?"

Nurse Chapel grinned sheepishly. She typed in a command and the computer flashed up the title screen: Empire of the Tribbles.

"Oh my God," McCoy muttered. Then, louder, "So, uh, what is everyone else playing?"

The blue-shirted ensign said, "Pirates of Orion."

"I have Romulan Chase," someone added.

"Chekov lent us his copy of Ancient Russia: The Game," a nurse offered.

McCoy squinted at him. "Hamilton, aren't you supposed to be on duty?"

The nurse stood up so quickly that his chair skidded back. "Uh, yes sir," he stammered. "I'm going back out there, sir." He quickly left the office.

"Now, who else is supposed to be working?" McCoy asked. About five people wordlessly left the office. The sea of off-duty faces stared at him expectantly. "Now," McCoy said, "what am I going to do with you?"

"Uh, we can leave," a lieutenant in command gold said uncomfortably. Obviously he wished that he hadn't joined the game room.

"Actually," a nurse said, "Would you mind if I finished my game?"

"I never got a turn," someone added.

McCoy was on the verge of telling them all to shoo, but the walrus-person took control of his mouth first. "You can stay," she said, "But you have to let me play."

What? McCoy thought.

I WANT TO EXPERIENCE THIS, the walrus-lady replied.

Fine, McCoy said. He sat at the controls and the walrus-lady began to chase Romulans.

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"I vas not being rude!" Chekov protested. "Didn't you hear about vhat happened?"

Kayla Dunn shook her head. "All I know is that when we ate dinner together, you barely talked and you just left. Are you trying to tell me something? Do you want to break up with me?"

"No, no," Chekov said. He fought the urge to laugh. Spock probably had been rude on his date with Kayla. "Something happened with that psychic walrus-person and somehow I svitched bodies with Mr. Spock. Really, they didn't tell you?"

"What?" Chekov's girlfriend asked. She looked doubtful. "You switched bodies with Mr. Spock?"

Chekov nodded. "Yes. That is what happened. So I am sorry if Mr. Spock was rude to you."

"Okay, I believe you," she said. "But ew—I went out with Mr. Spock!"

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Kirk sat in the command chair, pondering the recent events. He felt left out, in a way. Usually, if something like this happened, he would be right in the middle of it. He sighed. Was he actually disappointed to have missed out on his crew's crazy adventure?

Everything seemed like it was normal, anyway. Spock had returned to his station on the bridge, blatantly refusing a day off for some rest. Kirk stole a glance at him. He seemed fine, hunched over his control, finishing some project…

Chekov and Roberts were in Sick Bay. Chekov was recovering from the kick that he himself had delivered, and Roberts was dealing with his missing finger.

McCoy was still giving a tour of humanity to the walrus-lady. Kirk had last seen them heading to McCoy's office.

Everything sure did seem normal.

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