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Title: Malfunction
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, but I sure wish I did.
Summary: Five times Jim turned a transporter malfunction into a way to seduce Bones, and the one time it worked (unintentionally). Buckle up meme fill.


1. Re-materializing Naked

When the landing party contacted the ship for an emergency beam-up, McCoy had taken it upon himself to be present, just in case anything went wrong. Because even though Scotty insisted that the modifications he had been making on the transporter were minor and wouldn't affect the beam up, McCoy had never been one to trust the damn atom-scrambler anyway.

"Anytime would be great, Scotty!" Kirk insisted, the communication sounding strained. McCoy glanced over as Scotty abandoned the panel he had been re-fastening to head for the controls. "Now, please!" he near shouted into the communicator, and if Scotty hadn't started the beam up right then, McCoy would have, because he sounded downright panicked.

The familiar hum of the transporter filled the room, and McCoy watched as three—he counted, just to be sure—figured began to materialize. When the light faded and the hum ceased, McCoy's eyebrows shot to his forehead. All three of them were as naked as Adam on the transporter pad, although the two security team members seemed much less comfortable with this development than the captain.

Jim flashed Scotty a cheeky smile. "Good timing." Leonard had to hold back a choked snort and turned incredulously to the engineer.

"Mr. Scott… why are they naked?" his brow screwed up in confusion, and he turned back to the opened panel.

"Perhaps I crossed a couple wires…" he mumbled, stooping to peer into the opening. Jim laughed, and threw an arm around McCoy's shoulders. He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"C'mon Bones, you know you like it." McCoy rolled his eyes and threw the arm off his shoulder, stalking out of the room with a barked,

"Well, you're perfectly healthy, guess I'm not needed." And if on some level Jim had been right, McCoy would never tell.

2. Temporary Genderswap

"This is kinda cool." Jim said airily, laughing from the edge of a Biobed. He—she?—brushed a hand through her hair and wiggled her hips. "Kinda uncomfortable, though. Top heavy." He poked experimentally at his chest with one hand, "I don't know how they sit up straight."

"Stop," McCoy grabbed his-her wrist and pulled it to her side, "touching. Seriously, Jim, its not appropriate, and if Chapel or Uhura sees you, they'll smack you so hard your head spins, woman or no."

Jim smirked and opened his mouth to comment—likely something equally inappropriate—but McCoy silenced him with a tricorder in the face. He turned it on, and he-she returned to poking and prodding with abandon, because this was only temporary, he'd been told, and he wouldn't have a chance later.

"Looks like you're already returning to normal." McCoy snapped the tricorder off, "You'll be back to your testosterone-driven self in a couple hours." He said, grabbing for Kirk's hand again.

"Hmm… only a couple hours?" Kirk purred, shifting the doctor's hand on her wrist enough to grab his in return, "Then maybe we should head back to your quarters—or mine—and take advantage while we still can?" She made a vague motion toward herself, leaning into the doctor's touch.

McCoy gently extracted himself from her grip and her face fell slightly. "I'm on shift." He mumbled, and Jim let out a little sigh. At least he could take solace in the fact that he hadn't said no.

3. Beamed to unintended destination

"All alone…" Jim song-songed. Leonard rolled his eyes.

"Jim, no."

"Hours, trapped in this dimly-lit cave." The Captain continued, completely unimpeded. Leonard didn't respond, so Jim added, "and who knows when Scotty will fix the problem and beam us out! C'mon, Bones, it's a great idea—"

"Jim, I said it ain't gonna happen." The doctor mumbled, shifting away slightly, "and I meant it. With our luck? They'll beam us back the second we start, and I aint settin' myself up for the embarrassment."

Jim pouted, pulling his best puppy-dog eyes and nudging the doctor despondently with his foot. "Please?" He whined.

"No." Jim let out a frustrated huff, falling back even as the space around him began to shift with the familiar sensation of a beam-up. So maybe Bones had a point—didn't make him like the answer any better.

4. Multiple-Jims

McCoy barely spared it a glance when the door to Medbay wooshed open. He saw his captain stroll into the room, a cheeky grin planted on his face, and quickly turned away with a roll of the eyes.

"What do you want, Jim?" he asked, sounding entirely unimpressed. Jim shrugged, despite the fact that the doctor wasn't looking his way.

"Transporter malfunction. Scotty sent us up here to get checked out." He said, taking a seat on the nearest biobed. The doctor turned with actual concern, as only the transporter could produce. When he was facing the captain he stopped short.

"What the hell, Jim!" he exclaimed. The captain laughed, an echo of his voice resounding from the next bed over. Two Jims—one in his captain's gold, the other wearing a spare engineering uniform.

"I know, right?" They said in unison, and then laughed again, obviously enjoying themselves. "Scotty's trying to fix the problem, said he'd have it fixed in a few hours. But until then, I was thinking—"

"No." McCoy said flatly, and if he didn't have the duty of scanning the captain and his duplicate to check their health, he would have left the room.

"Aw, c'mon, Bones!" They chorused, and Bones did his damndest to suppress a shiver. "You don't even know what I was gonna say!" His captain, the one in gold, insisted. McCoy set him with an unamused look.

"Jim, I know damn well what you were gonna say, and the answer is no." Jim—both of him—pouted.

"You mean you've never wanted to try a threesome with me and me?" he asked, throwing his arms into the air, "It would be awesome!" McCoy finished his scan and took a step back, eyeing the two.

"Well, Jim, if it'll be so awesome, go fuck yourself." He snapped, though the comment had no bite to it.

"Maybe we will!" They shouted back to him, even as he disappeared into his office for a drink. Or two. It'd take more than that to get those images out of his mind.

5. Merging bodies

"Is it sex, or masturbation?" The doctor scowled, swatting away one wandering hand with the other and doing his best to ignore his—Jim's—shared thoughts while he completed the scan on himself. And the captain. In one body.

"Jim, I swear to God—" He threatened, swatting his left hand away again—the only part of his body that Jim had control over. A wash of images flashed through his shared mind, and it took everything he had to ignore it, even if certain parts of him had no intention of doing so.

The feeling of smugtriumphantaroused washed over him at his body's—not his!—reaction. He growled. "Knock it off, Jim." He ordered, sending his own images in retaliation—images of hyposprays and castrations.

If Jim had a body to do so, he would have blanched, and Bones took a smug satisfaction in the fact that the captain made few advances after that point, even when he'd returned to his quarters for a quick shower and some well deserved rest.

+1 Trapped in the in-between

Three days. That's how long it had been since they'd tried to beam the captain back to the ship, and that's how long it had been since they'd lost contact. The Surens insisted that he had been beamed away, and they believed them, mostly because they had no reason to lie, but also because the Surens had the worst poker-faces in the galaxy, and they were confident that Spock or Uhura would have picked up on a lie.

So it had been three days since they discovered that the transporter had malfunctioned, trapping their captain in the limbo between the disassembly and assembly of atoms. McCoy tried to put it out of his mind—the idea of Jim, lost in the purgatory of transport for the rest of his existence.

McCoy poured himself another brandy from his near-depleted bottle and tried to still the thoughts that always came late into his shift, when everyone who wasn't on shift was either sleeping, eating, or trying to fix the transporter. It was these times, in the utterly quiet medbay, that he couldn't stop the thoughts from coming.

The communication unit on the wall whistled an incoming message, and Leonard tried not to get his hopes up. He was tired of having them crushed. "Doctor!" he recognized the woman's voice as that of the transporter operator who had been on duty during the initial beam-up three days ago. "You're needed in the transporter room!"

The excitement in her voice was enough to have McCoy out of his office and down the hall, barely remembering to transfer responsibility to M'Benga. It was impossible not to get his hopes up, if only a little, when he saw the excited faces of the transporter technicians as they worked at their stations.

"Energizing." One of them said, sliding the control on the panel. Nothing happened, at first, and McCoy's heart fell even as the technician's grins grew wider. He only had a moment to wonder if they knew something that he didn't before the foremost transporter pad began to shimmer with the assembly of atoms.

McCoy was across the room almost before the transporter had finished, opening his arms to catch the stumbling captain. "Jesus, Kid." He mumbled, pulling his close and pressing a kiss into his hair.

"Hey," Jim breathed, the warm puff of air ghosting over the doctor's neck, "miss me?" McCoy just shifted his hold slightly, supporting the other man with an arm around his waist.

"Maybe a little." He grumped. Jim huffed out a laugh, and really, it was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard.