Why can't this chapter shape up?!

[seren_ccd]

Trying desperately to write the next chapter of my McCoy/Chapel and the darn thing keeps changing around. I have one goal for the chapter. One thing that I want them to do, and all this other stuff keeps creeping in.

It doesn't help that we have this new bookeeper who is the quietest man in the world and is just tapping away somewhere behind my desk and it's kind of freaking me out. Which it shouldn't, but it does.

And why won't my chapter work???

*goes to make a cup of tea. will beat the chapter into submission after i have a bikkie*

PS Does anyone have any recommended novels that feature doctors and nurses? I'm open to any genre. I'd just like to see how medical jargon can be used. (Three guesses as to why I'm asking :)

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Re: The Day Nurse Chapel Wore Red and Dr. McCoy Lost It (2)

[maskedanon.livejournal.com]

It was nearly every day now, after a long shift stuck with her he found himself going back to his quarters and frantically jerking off, whatever arousing thing Christine did that day burned clearly in his head. He had been stuck on a ship with her for a year now, and rather than things getting easier to deal with they got harder. Literally. He found himself getting aroused over the silliest things. He felt like a goddamn teenage boy. Or Jim Kirk! He was usually able to calm himself by snapping at someone or thinking thoughts one just didn't want to think (like of his grandmother naked, or that little creepy goblin Keenser, or Jim Kirk). But eventually he ran out of things to get his mind off of his hard-on, and he'd be damned if he ever, ever resorted to think of Spock naked.

Then finally one day Dr. Leonard "Bones" McCoy snapped.

First off, it had been a long day to begin with. Starting early as usual, but then something happened in engineering and they had nearly the whole engineering deck suddenly up in the sickbay with various injuries. It took almost 15 hours to clear everyone out, with only a couple needing to stay in sickbay for monitoring. And while McCoy could occasionally be a sadist, he knew everyone had been there as long as he had so he let the staff go to bed, while he offered to stay and clean up and reorganize everything that had been displaced in the pandemonium. He'd be damned if he let the disorganized and somewhat inept night shift do it, he figured the only reason they could tell a hypospray from a phaser was from the enormous amount of paperwork they had to do the first time they got it wrong. No one likes paperwork.

He was both elated and annoyed when Nurse Chapel offered to stay and help him.

They worked in tired silence at first. Speaking only to ask a quick question or make a snide comment. It was companionable and comfortable.

McCoy handed a box of hyposprays he had just organized to Chapel, directing her to put them in the high cabinet by the door. Out of habit he watched her. He loved sending her to the tall cabinet where she had to reach up on tip toes to put away or grab anything. The movement always caused her skirt to ride up so high he could see both round cheeks half-hidden under white panties. This time was no different, except for one thing, her panties weren't plain white cotton. They were red, lacy and see-through, not even panties, really, but lengerie.

That did it, McCoy was going to have to call in the big guns- thoughts of Spock naked. But even that horrific thought wasn't working, immediately shoved aside by that perfectly smooth bottom clad in lacy red. Spock and Jim! Nothing! Now he had thoughts of the matching red bra she must be wearing. And that lead to Chapel in nothing but underwear. On his bed. Under him. Moaning.

Moaning.

"Dr. McCoy! Are you all right?"

Moaning? Oh, dear God, he was moaning. And the victim of his sudden onslaught of lust and fantasy was directly in front of him, allowing him the perfect view of- sweet, merciful- she was wearing a matching bra.

"Excuse me," he said curtly, turning and heading into his office. He quickly locked the door and sat at his desk, fingers clawing at his hair.

"Dr. Mccoy!" he heard her shout. The concern he first heard melted into imaginings of her shouting his name in the throws of passion he knew he could bring her too. Fuck. He glanced at the door, picturing her outside, her eyes frightened and worried.

"Leonard!" she said again. No- not his full name. He groaned, unable to take it anymore. He palmed himself through his pants, trying to get some sort of relief.

Suddenly the door to the office slid open and she stood there, worry etched on her face, she held a spare key card in her hand. She was flushed and breathing heavily and utterly delicious looking. Against every fibre of his being McCoy got up, keyed the door shut and locked again, then shoved her against the door. He only gave her a moment to protest before pressing his lips hungrily to hers. He may get smacked, shoved or hyposprayed after this moment, but the feel of those soft lips under his was worth it. Instead she gave into him. Matching him kiss for kiss.