Author: Laura Jacquez Valentine (firstname.lastname@example.org)
Title: The Sound of His Voice
Summary: McCoy is in the middle of some very good angst. Whatever shall
the first officer do about the decreased efficiency?
Disclaimer: Lo, Paramount the Most Holy is God-or-Something. I am a
most humble acolyte.
Also, this is slash, so if m/m ain't your cuppa, kindly depart. It's
not even like there's a *lot* of m/m, or anything. We are talking PG
The Sound of His Voice
I was irritated with Spock. He was obsessed with Kodos, with Riley and
"I want the Captain to see that report," he said.
"When I'm finished logging it." I was in no mood--
"Now." And he turned and left. I was surprised by my own reaction, a
twist in my gut, a tingle in my groin. The strength and mastery in his
voice provoked obedience and desire. I wanted to kneel before him and
beg his forgiveness. Instead, I followed him out.
Five minutes later I was defending him, fighting at his side against
Jim. It felt so strange, so right. And ever since then, I have been
listening for the sound of his voice.
He comes to Sickbay almost every day to speak to me about his concerns.
He has not been called the best first officer in the fleet for nothing.
Behind his Vulcan mask, he cares deeply about the ship and her crew. He
is the one who notices when someone is acting strangely, the one who
knows the ins and outs of every romance on board, the artery between the
ship's heart and her brain, her crew and her captain.
And when he speaks, I can hear everything in his voice. I get angry
with him so quickly and deride him for denying his humanity and his
emotions, but then--when he comes back to Sickbay and talks to me--I
know I am wrong. I keep doing it, hoping to focus his attention on me
as he did that day. "Now." The word lives inside me. The sound of his
mastery echoes in the empty places of my heart.
I have stopped sleeping. The last time I did, I dreamt of him.
I knelt, my head bent, my wrists tied behind my back. I could feel the
heat of his body behind me as he spoke. His voice went on and on,
caressing me, commanding me, tormenting me. I woke so aroused I hurt.
I can't go through that again. It has been days since I allowed myself
I keep thinking of Spock in that mindmeld with Dr. van Gelder. I keep
wishing for the touch of his fingers on my face, and that voice in my
He walked up behind me for his daily review of the crew's mental health,
social situation, and morale. I didn't notice him at first.
I nearly leapt out of my skin. His voice, focussed on me--
"Have you forgotten our appointment, Doctor? If it is inconvenient,
perhaps some other time--"
"No, Spock, this is fine. What do you have for me today?" He followed
me into my office and sat down, folding his long legs into the chair,
steepling his fingers in front of his chest. His fingers, his voice,
his body--deep and lean and all of it touching me at my core.
I poured myself a drink to keep my hands from shaking. When had I lost
control? Bourbon wasn't the answer, but it was a start.
We discussed Kevin Riley's transfer from Communications to Stellar
Cartography. Riley had spoken of switching out of command-track, which
had disturbed Spock. He believed that Riley's decision was based on
fear that he wasn't perfect enough to command...and I lost track of the
discussion, lost in Spock's voice.
When I recovered myself, Spock was holding me upright by the arms,
looking into my eyes. When he saw I had returned to the land of the
living, he said, "And you, Doctor McCoy, have been acting most
strangely around me. Is there something you wish to discuss with me?"
When I was silent, he frowned. "Can you stand on your own? You nearly
Again I did not answer.
"Leonard. Are you well?"
And the sound of his voice.
All for me.
I leaned forward against him, and inhaled his scent. A wave of
dizziness swept over me, and he caught me as I fell.
"Leonard, when was the last time you slept?" Oh, his voice, his arms
I felt him gather me up and carry me away. When I woke in my quarters,
he was gone.