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seren_ccdTitle: McCoy/Chapel iPod Fic Challenge
Fandom: Star Trek 2009
Pairing: McCoy/Chapel
Rating: PG-PG13
Summary: Drabbles based on 10 songs my iPod threw at me on shuffle.
A/N: I have no idea why these are leaning towards angst. Let me know what you think!
Hot for Teacher - Van Halen
Christine's favorite teacher at school was her biology teacher, Mr. Davis. He explained science like it was a story unfolding. She'd have to bite back the groan at the end of class because she wanted to know all about the subject.
He was also very easy on the eyes. With a deep voice that had just a hint of cultured Cajun to it. His hair was dark but streaked with silvery strands of gray. However, she never participated in the giggling sessions after class where the other girls speculated about his wife, did he have a wife? Ooh, or a husband? That was pretty cool, too.
Christine liked him because he thought anyone could learn and he loved science. She came to love it too. She asked for extra credit and won all the science fairs.
Mr. Davis was always polite and courteous to her, never stood too close. When Christine graduated, he shook her hand and wished her all the best in the world.
Could she really be blamed when she fell like a brick for Roger Korby?
It was all biological.
He Can Only Hold Her - Amy Winehouse
The day the news came through that Roger Korby was dead through his own delusions of grandeur and superiority, Christine worked the entire day. McCoy tried his best to get her to take the day, but she just kept walking away from him and continuing.
It was the end of the day and he noticed the lines around her eyes had darkened and she was breathing shallowly.
He very casually walked over to her, cupped her elbow with his hand and pulled her into her office as smooth as can be.
Then he locked the door and implemented the security protocol that only Jim could break.
And he let her scream. Then he held her as she cried.
Glory Box - Portishead
It was Christine's first shore leave in ages.
She dabbed the lightest of perfumes behind her ears, the crooks of her elbows, trailed a line up the back of her knees and applied the lightest shimmer of pink lipstick.
Her dress was red and the back hung low and she decidedly did not wear anything underneath it.
She ordered a strong, smooth whiskey and swayed to the band playing in the corner of the dark cafe. She accepted a cigarette from a stranger and leaned her head back as she exhaled the smoke to the rafters.
She only danced by herself, never accepting a partner, just letting the music flow around her. her limbs move with the melody.
And she felt alive. And sexy. And wanted.
Not because of the dress or the perfume or the admiring glances and offers to buy her drink.
But because he was sitting in a corner. Watching her.
Feelin' Groovy - Simon and Garfunkel
Christine giggled.
"Stop that."
"I can't."
She giggled again.
"Damn it, woman, knock it off."
"I can't. It hurts when I stop."
"Oh hell."
Silence, punctuated by deep breaths...
Then she giggled again.
"I swear to god, I'm going to administer every single test on Sulu when he gets back. This damn plant had turned my head nurse into a giggling idiot."
Christine laughed so hard she fell off the exam table.
No Myth - Michael Penn
The first time Christine saw McCoy in blue jeans she thought she was going to melt.
They were faded and worn, and fit him far too well.
He looked like an old cowboy as opposed to the best doctor in Starfleet.
He grabbed her hand and led her around the makeshift dance floor the villagers put together and ran his hands over her own blue jeans.
Yeah, she was going to melt.
But, she was sure as hell going to take him with her.
Don't Get Me Wrong - The Pretenders
It's the most ridiculous thing ever.
He's a grown man, for God's sake.
He's not some teenager, ready to pop at any moment.
But, whenever Chapel gets near or tells him to take his head out of his ass (in far more polite terms, but it's what she means) he's ready to pick her up and throw her on the nearest exam table and see just how far up those long legs of hers go. Or if she blushes all the way down. Or if she tastes half as good as she smells.
He won't, of course. He values his life and his position.
So, he'll continue to give her reasons to yell at him (quietly) and stand close to him. And he'll just breathe her in.
Do You Sleep? - Lisa Loeb
They broke up without much fanfare.
It had been fun and now it was over.
They continued to work together effortlessly, if with a bit more professionalism and fewer jokes.
And Christine pretended that it didn't hurt like knives when he'd reach out a hand to comfort her after a hard day and pull it back right before it made contact with her skin.
And Len pretended that not seeing her reading in the old armchair in his room didn't feel like something was missing.
And they both pretended to not miss the other one like air.
Then one day, they stopped pretending.
Leather - Tori Amos
*I'm actually thinking Mirror!McCoy and Mirror!Chapel in this*
He loved watching her take down a superior officer. Well, when that superior officer wasn't him, that is.
She had steel in her spine and while the words she spoke were polite and intelligent, disdain dripped like poison when she knew she was right and the officer in front of her was holding her up for no reason other than it could.
He saw her in his mind's eye with a blade and a black suit, like that movie Jim and Sulu always inflicted on him, that Matrix thing.
And then later, in their room, he'd lay back and let her inflict a new kind of pain and take him down.
He'd smile the entire time.
Rebel Yell - Billy Idol
They ran.
Fast as they could.
The Enterprise was up there somewhere; they just had to get clear of the war around them to get word up there.
Christine ignored the searing pain that was her dislocated shoulder and kept an eye on McCoy's still bleeding back.
She did not think about why he had lashes on his back. How the whip sounded when they struck him.
She just focused on running.
One foot in front of the other.
The warmth of his hand in hers, the slickness of the blood in his palm.
And they kept on running.
She stumbled once and hit her injured shoulder. She bit her lip in pain so hard she broke the skin.
McCoy just grunted and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead and prodded her along.
They reached the clearing and McCoy yelled into his comm, "Scotty! Now, god damn it!"
The shimmer of the transporter and the calm serenity of the transporter room were the last things she saw before she passed out.
The Rifle – Alela Diane
Christine tucked her knee up to her chest and let her other foot kick off the sandy floor to swing the old porch swing.
Len joined her a few minutes later and handed her a beer. She took a sip and leaned against him when he stretched his arm along the back of the swing. He smelled of dried leaves and smoke from the bonfire the others were sitting around.
"Marry me," he said into her ear as he nuzzled her hair, breathing in the scent of her.
She smiled lazily.
Fandom: Star Trek 2009
Pairing: McCoy/Chapel
Rating: PG-PG13
Summary: Drabbles based on 10 songs my iPod threw at me on shuffle.
A/N: I have no idea why these are leaning towards angst. Let me know what you think!
Hot for Teacher - Van Halen
Christine's favorite teacher at school was her biology teacher, Mr. Davis. He explained science like it was a story unfolding. She'd have to bite back the groan at the end of class because she wanted to know all about the subject.
He was also very easy on the eyes. With a deep voice that had just a hint of cultured Cajun to it. His hair was dark but streaked with silvery strands of gray. However, she never participated in the giggling sessions after class where the other girls speculated about his wife, did he have a wife? Ooh, or a husband? That was pretty cool, too.
Christine liked him because he thought anyone could learn and he loved science. She came to love it too. She asked for extra credit and won all the science fairs.
Mr. Davis was always polite and courteous to her, never stood too close. When Christine graduated, he shook her hand and wished her all the best in the world.
Could she really be blamed when she fell like a brick for Roger Korby?
It was all biological.
He Can Only Hold Her - Amy Winehouse
The day the news came through that Roger Korby was dead through his own delusions of grandeur and superiority, Christine worked the entire day. McCoy tried his best to get her to take the day, but she just kept walking away from him and continuing.
It was the end of the day and he noticed the lines around her eyes had darkened and she was breathing shallowly.
He very casually walked over to her, cupped her elbow with his hand and pulled her into her office as smooth as can be.
Then he locked the door and implemented the security protocol that only Jim could break.
And he let her scream. Then he held her as she cried.
Glory Box - Portishead
It was Christine's first shore leave in ages.
She dabbed the lightest of perfumes behind her ears, the crooks of her elbows, trailed a line up the back of her knees and applied the lightest shimmer of pink lipstick.
Her dress was red and the back hung low and she decidedly did not wear anything underneath it.
She ordered a strong, smooth whiskey and swayed to the band playing in the corner of the dark cafe. She accepted a cigarette from a stranger and leaned her head back as she exhaled the smoke to the rafters.
She only danced by herself, never accepting a partner, just letting the music flow around her. her limbs move with the melody.
And she felt alive. And sexy. And wanted.
Not because of the dress or the perfume or the admiring glances and offers to buy her drink.
But because he was sitting in a corner. Watching her.
Feelin' Groovy - Simon and Garfunkel
Christine giggled.
"Stop that."
"I can't."
She giggled again.
"Damn it, woman, knock it off."
"I can't. It hurts when I stop."
"Oh hell."
Silence, punctuated by deep breaths...
Then she giggled again.
"I swear to god, I'm going to administer every single test on Sulu when he gets back. This damn plant had turned my head nurse into a giggling idiot."
Christine laughed so hard she fell off the exam table.
No Myth - Michael Penn
The first time Christine saw McCoy in blue jeans she thought she was going to melt.
They were faded and worn, and fit him far too well.
He looked like an old cowboy as opposed to the best doctor in Starfleet.
He grabbed her hand and led her around the makeshift dance floor the villagers put together and ran his hands over her own blue jeans.
Yeah, she was going to melt.
But, she was sure as hell going to take him with her.
Don't Get Me Wrong - The Pretenders
It's the most ridiculous thing ever.
He's a grown man, for God's sake.
He's not some teenager, ready to pop at any moment.
But, whenever Chapel gets near or tells him to take his head out of his ass (in far more polite terms, but it's what she means) he's ready to pick her up and throw her on the nearest exam table and see just how far up those long legs of hers go. Or if she blushes all the way down. Or if she tastes half as good as she smells.
He won't, of course. He values his life and his position.
So, he'll continue to give her reasons to yell at him (quietly) and stand close to him. And he'll just breathe her in.
Do You Sleep? - Lisa Loeb
They broke up without much fanfare.
It had been fun and now it was over.
They continued to work together effortlessly, if with a bit more professionalism and fewer jokes.
And Christine pretended that it didn't hurt like knives when he'd reach out a hand to comfort her after a hard day and pull it back right before it made contact with her skin.
And Len pretended that not seeing her reading in the old armchair in his room didn't feel like something was missing.
And they both pretended to not miss the other one like air.
Then one day, they stopped pretending.
Leather - Tori Amos
*I'm actually thinking Mirror!McCoy and Mirror!Chapel in this*
He loved watching her take down a superior officer. Well, when that superior officer wasn't him, that is.
She had steel in her spine and while the words she spoke were polite and intelligent, disdain dripped like poison when she knew she was right and the officer in front of her was holding her up for no reason other than it could.
He saw her in his mind's eye with a blade and a black suit, like that movie Jim and Sulu always inflicted on him, that Matrix thing.
And then later, in their room, he'd lay back and let her inflict a new kind of pain and take him down.
He'd smile the entire time.
Rebel Yell - Billy Idol
They ran.
Fast as they could.
The Enterprise was up there somewhere; they just had to get clear of the war around them to get word up there.
Christine ignored the searing pain that was her dislocated shoulder and kept an eye on McCoy's still bleeding back.
She did not think about why he had lashes on his back. How the whip sounded when they struck him.
She just focused on running.
One foot in front of the other.
The warmth of his hand in hers, the slickness of the blood in his palm.
And they kept on running.
She stumbled once and hit her injured shoulder. She bit her lip in pain so hard she broke the skin.
McCoy just grunted and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead and prodded her along.
They reached the clearing and McCoy yelled into his comm, "Scotty! Now, god damn it!"
The shimmer of the transporter and the calm serenity of the transporter room were the last things she saw before she passed out.
The Rifle – Alela Diane
Christine tucked her knee up to her chest and let her other foot kick off the sandy floor to swing the old porch swing.
Len joined her a few minutes later and handed her a beer. She took a sip and leaned against him when he stretched his arm along the back of the swing. He smelled of dried leaves and smoke from the bonfire the others were sitting around.
"Marry me," he said into her ear as he nuzzled her hair, breathing in the scent of her.
She smiled lazily.
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Date: 2009-11-30 05:00 pm (UTC)