A/N: This chapter contains strong sexual content and imagery. Read at your own risk.
The cabin was comfortably furnished. Kirk finished stocking the last of the supplies on a table in one corner of the bedroom. He shoved the bed against the wall and threw large pillows against that side and threw more on the floor. Uhura braided her hair into a coil and secured it against her head. She ate a large meal before leaving the Enterprise and took a long, hot shower. She sat on the bed, wearing a robe that was loosely belted and some panties. She knew that it was pointless to wear anything else. The panties wouldn’t last long, but she just couldn’t go without them, especially with her period on. She didn’t know what Spock would do.
He turned to look at her, his blue eyes at once cheerful and sad. “Are you ready?”
Uhura nodded. “I’m ready. Are you?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I’m going into the front to wait for him. I doubt that he’ll be very long and I’ll hear him coming. This cabin has one entrance. He’ll have to come through me to get to you. I won’t use the adrenalin until I have to, but I intend to inject the hydrocodone as soon as I hear him coming. You take yours as soon as you hear him come in.”
“All right,” she said.
“Bones gave me two powerful sedatives, but instructed me to use them only when it becomes necessary. Like when you need to sleep. He told me that, on humans, they’d knock you out for a half a day, but for someone in Spock’s state, a few hours were all he could guarantee.”
“All right,” she said again. “It’ll be fine, Jim.”
He nodded. He hoped so. “I love you,” he said.
“I love you,” she replied. “Now go on.”
Kirk kissed her lips and went into the front of the cabin to wait for Spock.
He knew when he found her because the blood in her scent was a beacon, growing brighter in his mind as he neared her location. She was just outside of the city, inside a small wooden dwelling. He saw the lights on, but he didn’t need light to see. Spock went towards the door and opened it, his mind smoldering red, his blood boiling with testosterone.
His captain was before him, tossing a hypo off to one side. Spock’s nostrils flared; she was just in the next room and he wanted her so badly, so desperately that he could not control himself. He had to have her. Except that there was an obstacle in his path. He found he could speak.
“You’re going to have to come through me to get to her, Spock. I’m really sorry about that.” Kirk was not a happy camper.
He braced himself and Spock rushed him, knocking him down. Then, because the need for her eclipsed everything else, he merely moved past Kirk to the door of the bedroom. Kirk grabbed his ankle and yanked, knocking Spock down. Enraged, the Vulcan turned on him and pulled him up. Kirk hit him twice, once on each side of the head and Spock threw him across the room. Then he turned towards the bedroom door.
Kirk was up and on his feet, heading towards Spock again. When Spock grabbed the door handle, Kirk leapt onto his back and put his arm around his throat, in a chokehold. Spock bellowed in rage and backed into the wall several times to shake Kirk loose. Kirk banged his head against the wall and then knew no more once Spock turned around and hit him in the chin. He sank to the floor, unconscious.
Spock grabbed the bedroom door handle and opened it. She was standing in front of the bed and there was an empty hypo on the floor beside her. She was naked except for her panties. Her scent was tinged with the hormonal imbalance that he associated with her menstrual cycle. It was overwhelming, pure radiance in the heat of his mind. Spock growled and went towards her. His nostrils flared and he reached for her. He was out of his head with desire, with an irresistible need to take her. Roughly, if she resisted him.
“Spock,” she said, standing perfectly still. She was not afraid. She loved him. She would not be afraid of him.
She felt his hands on her arms, felt her feet leave the floor, and then felt the soft weight of the bed against her back. Spock was on her and to her surprise, he smelled her. He held her down by her wrists and his face was buried in the crook of her neck. He was inhaling, taking deep breaths of her air. He pressed against her and she felt his heat all over. He kneed her thighs apart and released her wrists, dragging his face over her chest, to her belly and down between her legs, breathing deeply.
Uhura lay there and let him. Of all the things she expected for him to do first, smelling her wasn’t one of them. But Kirk told her that McCoy said that if she was on her period while he was in his time, it would drive him crazy. She could not imagine what it was like for him to be led by her scent. In another place, another time, it would have been kinky as hell. But not at the moment.
She gasped as the thin cotton of her panties disintegrated under his strong fingers. Uhura opted to wear a pad, as she knew a tampon would have been pointless, and it might have frustrated him. She opened her eyes to see the scrap of material go flying across the room and spared a pang of embarrassment that her feminine issue would be laid out for Kirk to see. Some things were just damned private.
And then Spock was all over her.
Kirk came to; unaware of how much time passed since Spock showed up. Little black spots swirled before his eyes and his head swam. He tried to sit up and couldn’t, so he lay back down on the floor. He heard them in the bedroom, but he couldn’t hear Uhura making any sounds of distress or pain, so he opted to wait a little while. He really had no choice. His head was fuzzy.
When the world cleared, he got up and went over to the table to drink some water and eat something. Then he collapsed on the couch, zoning in and out. Spock knocked the hell out of him, and if he had to go and pull him off her, he was going to do far worse. Kirk put the cold water bottle against his forehead, not liking the idea. He had been right about round one: he got two blows in before Spock knocked him out. He hoped that he was wrong about round two. He wasn’t ready to die.
Spock had her pinned to the bed, but it wasn’t necessary because Uhura had no intention of resisting him. His eyes were closed and he was anything but gentle. She bit her lip to keep from crying out because she knew if she uttered a sound of any sort, Kirk would feel compelled to rush in and pull Spock off her, thus risking far worse damage than whatever it was he suffered prior to Spock coming into the room. Uhura promised herself that she would cry out only when she couldn’t take any more of Spock’s relentless fucking. Kirk was right; there was no other description for what was taking place. After he sniffed her out, he unfastened his pants, kneed her legs apart and pushed his way inside. He held her arms and began thrusting blindly. He was strong and he held her down easy, his face inches from hers, his nostrils flaring. She could do nothing but stare up at him, at the way his eyes rolled underneath his eyelids, as if he were dreaming. She reminded herself that she loved this man, that she was a willing participant. He hadn’t hit her or choked her. She could handle this. But he was so strong…
She was fortunate. The hydrocodone contained had another ingredient. Whatever it was stimulated her body’s natural tendency to produce lubricant, so she was slick when Spock entered her and it didn’t hurt. Uhura didn’t know how long it was intended to last, but she was grateful for it. Had she not been lubricated, Spock’s rough entry would have been painful. Bad enough that she was menstruating. This was going to be nasty.
Spock was frenetic at the feel of her, at the knowledge of her physical state, at the way she smelled. She did not resist him, did not cry out when he took her and did not make a sound when he squeezed her wrists hard enough that it was going to leave bruises. His blood pounded in his temples and there was no thought, just instinct. He opened his eyes. He pressed his mouth against hers and she opened to allow his tongue to invade. He released her wrists to grab her thighs and open her wider; he wasn’t deep enough, there was more of her to have and he demanded she give it. He would take it if she didn’t.
Her hands were free. Instinctively, she cradled his head and tried to kiss him back, but she couldn’t control it, couldn’t control him and gasped when she felt him move, turning her pelvis up and pushing her legs further apart. She felt him, deeper than he had ever been before, probably near her cervix. If the point of all this was to produce offspring, then it probably would have worked if she were able to ovulate. Then her mouth was free and she felt him at her breast, biting. She bit her lip; it didn’t hurt, but it was startling. She didn’t want Kirk in here until it was absolutely necessary. She couldn’t bear to imagine what would happen if he interrupted Spock.
Kirk closed his eyes. He didn’t know how much time had passed and he still hadn’t heard Uhura cry out. She told him not to enter the room until she did, but he was nervous. What if Spock knocked her out? What if he had his hands around her throat? What if he gagged her? How much of that could she handle? He knew she was a strong woman, but damn…
Kirk sighed. He would obey her orders. He forced himself to eat and to drink.
Uhura bit down on the inside of her mouth, drawing blood. He had to be close, he just had to be. She didn’t know how much longer she could take the friction or his length. She didn’t even know how much time had passed. If this was what it was going to be like for the next three days, then maybe there was some merit to Kirk’s concern.
And then he was staring at her, stiffening and a rumble issued from his throat as he burst within her. It was different from usual; hotter, thicker, and he collapsed as he was spent. Uhura grunted, taking his weight and lay perfectly still. He was no longer turgid and slipped out of her. She waited for a little while and when he didn’t move, she slid her fingers through his hair and his lack of a response made her think that he was asleep. Carefully, she eased her way from underneath him, moving slowly, inch by inch, until she was free. She went to the bathroom to relieve herself and groaned when she saw that her urine was tinted pink. Her period was making this thing messy. Blood was on her thighs, but due to McCoy’s painkiller, she didn’t feel a thing. However, she wet a washcloth and wiped the blood off her legs.
Then she went back into the bedroom. He was still prone on the bed and she took the opportunity to eat some of the fruit from the table and take a long drink of water. Uhura supposed she could let Kirk know that she was all right for now because she knew he was worried. She stole another glance at the bed; Spock had not moved. She sighed and went towards the door.
The next thing she knew, she was on the floor, her face buried in a pillow. She screamed, startled. Spock was on top of her, breathing heavily, pressing hot, wet kisses on the back of her neck and shoulder. His hands were under her, grabbing her breasts. He was hard again, his erection pressed into her buttocks.
Uhura heard the door open and could not move to signal Kirk to fall back. Dear Lord, he was going to get himself killed.
“No Jim, don’t—!”
When she felt Spock move off of her, she rolled over to see Kirk on his back, his arms around Spock’s neck. Spock was raging, grabbing at his head.
“No Jim, I’m all right…let him go! Let him go, I’m all right…!”
It didn’t matter. Spock yanked one of his arms and pulled him off, slamming him into the floor. Kirk coughed, the wind knocked out of him. Spock grabbed him by the shirt and threw him into the other room. Uhura followed, trying to calm him down.
“Spock, please…please, I’m here, I’m ready…!”
Kirk lay on his back, winded. Spock pulled him up again and punched him in the head. The left side of his face went numb and pain exploded behind his eye. Spock hit him in the throat and he wisely went limp, falling to the floor and pretending to be unconscious. Another blow and he would have been out cold. Or dead.
Spock turned. She was in the doorway, waving him over. He came at her, picking her up. Uhura braced herself for whatever was coming next. Once again she found herself on the floor, face down. She tried to get up, but he was on top of her again, kissing her and clutching her breasts. He pulled her up on all fours, holding her by her hips. She closed her eyes as he found his way inside again and forced herself to think of all the reasons why she loved the stranger behind her, grateful for the pillows Kirk put down. She did not think she would have been able to stand the next round with her bare knees on the floor.
The world was a cloud. Kirk sputtered, trying to sit up. His head swam and he wondered if he had a concussion. His left eye throbbed and his throat ached from Spock’s punches. He heard her scream, and moving on instinct, made his way into the bedroom to see her on the floor with him clawing at her. If it hadn’t been so serious, the sight would have made him hot. By the time he heard Uhura telling him that she was all right, Spock had already slammed him to the floor.
His face was on fire and his throat hurt, in spite of the painkiller. It was probably wearing off and he did not chance to use another dose until it was necessary. They still had two and a half days to get through. He intended to give Spock the sedative in a few hours, if he could stand to wait that long.
Kirk lay on the floor, welcoming the cloud’s descent over him and the ensuing darkness.
She felt raw; the painkiller was wearing off. Kirk stashed the bag of hypos under the bed so that she could have easy access and if she turned her head, she could see it. Spock’s face was by hers; his breathing deep and even. He was out again, and this time she was wedged between his hot body and the floor pillows. His hands were under her, holding her breasts. Thankfully, he did not last as long as he had the first time. Maybe Kirk’s efforts were paying off, but it was too soon to tell. She would consider it later. For now, Uhura took the opportunity to sleep.
* * *
She was awakened by the feel of his mouth. She was on her back and they were still on the floor. Uhura braced herself up on her arms. The painkiller wore off and she was throbbing. She groaned. His mouth was hot, his kisses wet, his sucking intense, his pleasure almost feral. Uhura couldn’t bear to move any part of her body, but Spock’s actions had her gently bouncing back and forth. Her knees hurt and her legs ached. The insides of her thighs were covered in thin scratches that stung whenever he bumped against them. Her wrists were bruised and her breasts were covered with tiny red bite marks. But he hadn’t hit her and she could live with the rest.
She wished he could stop, that he would stop. Time was meaningless; there was no chronometer to mark the minutes, seconds, or hours that might have passed. She did not know how long she slept. It was hard to feel rested when she was so sore, when the apex of her femininity was no longer hers, but his. Uhura closed her eyes, remembering how the man before her made love to her, how he worshiped her body and revered her mind, how he would not stop until she climaxed. How he touched her, stroked her, kissed her and loved her. How amazing a man he truly was and how he never gave her a reason for doubt. Uhura clung to that. She had to. Spock would return to her in a few days. She just had to get through this.
Kirk woke up and went into his bag to search for his chronometer. He had no idea how much time passed, but he was about to start keeping up with it. He found his timepiece, marked the time and grabbed the sedative hypo. Uhura needed a break. He didn’t care if she hadn’t cried out.
He went towards the bedroom door, the hypo in his hand. Kirk quietly pushed it open and saw them on the floor. Her head was thrown back and she looked as if she were crying. Her lips were pressed together, as if she were trying not to scream. To keep him away, to keep him safe. Spock was between her legs, at her, hurting her. For sure she wasn’t enjoying it.
Kirk inhaled and crept into the room. Spock was so intent on what he was doing that he didn’t hear him. A few seconds later, he injected him in the buttocks with the sedative. Spock grunted and collapsed, his head landing between Uhura’s spread thighs.
“Jim!” she said.
He swallowed and stepped over Spock’s body, kneeling before her. “Nyota,” he said, wiping her face.
“Jim, you’ve got a black eye! And your Adam’s apple is bruised!”
“I’ll live,” he said. “I need to take care of you right now.”
“I’ll live,” she said. “See to Spock. Put him in the bed. Don’t leave him on the floor.”
“I won’t,” he said. “I’ll take care of him in a little bit. You need a bath.”
Uhura squeezed her eyes shut, too tired to argue. Kirk went into the bathroom and turned on the tub faucet, running the water as hot as he could stand. He wet a washcloth with cold water and came back out, gently patting her face with it.
Uhura smiled weakly and took the washcloth from him and stuck it between her legs. Kirk closed his eyes and sighed. Then he picked her up and carried her to the bathroom. When the tub had enough water, he put her inside. Uhura hissed as she eased into the water, but leaned back and let the water run over her, closing her eyes in relief. After what she just went through, a little hot water was nothing.
“I’ll bring you something to eat and drink in a little bit,” he said. “Right now, I’m going to take care of Spock.”
“Please,” she said. “Don’t leave him out there like that.”
Kirk wet another washcloth, this time with hot water, and went back into the bedroom. He pulled the covers back. Then he bent down, grabbed Spock’s arm, put the other around his waist and hoisted him onto his shoulders. He carried him to the bed and put him in it. Kirk gazed at him tenderly, running the damp cloth over his face and lips, which were flushed red. He took Spock’s hands and wiped his fingers, which were streaked red. He sighed, knowing the reason why. This whole thing was a big old mess. But there was nothing they could do except endure it. He pressed his lips against Spock’s forehead, squeezed his hand and pulled the covers over him. Kirk wanted Pon Farr to be over. He hated it. He hated seeing Spock like this and hated Nyota having to put up with him in such a state.
Kirk brought Uhura some cold chicken, chunks of white cheddar, French bread and a large glass of vegetable juice laced with additional nutrients. Kirk sat on the edge of the bed and fed her, wincing at the bruises on her body. Spock bit her hard enough to draw blood, but where he couldn’t say.
“He bit you all over?”
“Not quite,” she said. “Stomach, breasts, buttocks, thighs…” Other places too, but she wasn’t about to tell Kirk that.
“Don’t talk,” he said. “I won’t ask anything more.”
Uhura was starving. She was devouring the meat and cheese, unable to wait for Kirk to bring the food to her mouth. “I’m…exhausted…” she said between mouthfuls of food. “How…much…time…has passed?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I’ve been unconscious for most of the time.”
“You probably…have a head injury. You need…a doctor…”
“Bones will take care of it,” he said. “Go ahead and eat. Don’t stay in the tub too long. I want you to sleep. I don’t know how long Spock will be out.”
He went back into the room. Kirk checked his chronometer and hoped like hell the Vulcan would sleep for the next twelve hours.
After her bath, Uhura ate some more food, sucked down a liter of water and juice, flattened her hair coil and sat on the bed by the sleeping Spock. There was a dull ache between her legs. She stashed another hypo underneath her pillow for when Spock woke up. Kirk cupped her face in his hands and kissed her forehead. She stroked one of his hands.
“I’ll stay here,” he said. “Until you fall asleep.”
“Then your stay will be short,” she said, moving under the covers. “You need to go and sleep while you can, Jim. We don’t know how much longer this will last. You need your rest, too.”
Kirk nodded. He had taken another painkiller shortly after he finished helping Uhura bathe. He was exhausted. And to think, they had two more days to get through.
“Nyota, are you going to be all right? I mean, when this is over?”
She closed her eyes. “I have no choice but to be, Jim. It will take a day or two for me to…adjust, but I’ll be all right. I went into this wide open. I won’t let it ruin or change what we have, who we are. Spock would do the same for us if the positions were reversed.”
Kirk nodded again and kissed her forehead. That was true. Spock had actually killed to protect Uhura, and he had already saved Kirk’s life many times. They could tolerate this for him. “Sleep.” He left the room.
Uhura pulled the covers over her shoulder. She pressed against Spock to make sure that she had skin contact with him. Her instincts told her that it would be best if he felt her nearby. That it would be less dangerous if he didn’t have to go looking for her when he woke up. Then she was asleep, and it was blessed rest.
Kirk awoke suddenly, his right eye blinking rapidly. His left was swollen shut. Sunlight streamed through the windows. His head and face throbbed and he winced with pain. Something woke him up. He tried to sit up but his head was swimming. His body screamed for food. Kirk put a hand to his face; it was puffy. His tongue felt thick and dry. Spock really did a number on him. Fucker was strong.
Then his eyes flashed open. “Nyota—!” And he knew what woke him up.
There was a rapid knocking coming from the bedroom. The walls vibrated. Kirk groaned. He knew that sound well; had caused it on many occasions. And whatever she did the night before to keep from crying out was obviously no longer working.
Spock was— how long had they been—? Kirk clenched his fists and his jaw, which made him wince again with pain. Should he go in and pull Spock off? Did the sedative make things worse?
He sat up and forced his head to stop swimming. He got up, stumbling, bumping into the table and chairs due to his lack of depth perception. Kirk couldn’t help it, he had to do something. He had to. He couldn’t take what was happening to her. Uhura was crying and the room shook from the intensity of the bed hitting the wall.
He shoved a handful of turkey into his mouth, drank some water and grabbed the adrenalin hypo. He went to the door; it was open and he saw them and then looked away. Kirk took a giant breath, closed his eyes and injected the adrenalin into his heart.
A few seconds later, he felt like a brand new man. He growled and ran into the bedroom. Spock had her hands pressed against the headboard and he was…Kirk went over to the bed, grabbed him by the waist and yanked him out of her. Spock flew into the wall opposite the bed, his expression dark and dangerous.
Uhura’s eyes flew open. “Jim! Don’t!”
“I can’t just sit there and listen to that, Nyota! Take your shot! Take a double dose if you have to!” He turned to face Spock, who was coming towards him.
He kicked him in the chest and Spock fell back, bellowing. The Vulcan hit the wall, knocking the pictures off. Kirk didn’t waste any time. He rushed Spock and started throwing punches, head, chest, abdomen, head, chin, chest…the blood was rushing, his heart was pumping and he knew he had to make this one count. Spock grabbed him by the throat. Kirk choked in a breath, gritted his teeth and headbutted him. Spock released him and Kirk chopped an elbow into his neck.
Furious, Spock yelled as he deflected Kirk’s blows—they didn’t even seem to be hurting him—and rushed him, knocking him to the ground. Under normal circumstances, Kirk would have been more than happy to have a hard, naked Spock tackling him, but…He managed to get his feet onto Spock’s chest and thrust him away. He had to get him out of the room, away from Uhura, so he turned towards the door.
Spock yelled again and ran up behind him and pushed him through it. Kirk went flying, landing on the end table, which broke in two under his weight. He sputtered, getting up. Spock grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and the back of his pants and threw him out of the window.
Uhura shot the hypo into her arm. Then she quickly grabbed another one. She was still very sore from yesterday, and this morning she had been rudely awakened. She needed the hypos to work, for the special ingredient to go into overtime. She had not been lubricated when Spock woke her up and his rapid thrusts hurt her enough to make her cry out. He had her face down and he was fucking her so hard that the bed banged against the wall. She knew that was what woke Kirk up.
Oh, how would they ever be able to get over this??
She hoped that Kirk was okay, that Spock hadn’t killed him. She hoped that, if he wasn’t dead, he would have the good sense to call McCoy to come and help him. She could survive Spock’s drive. Kirk might not.
Spock appeared in the doorway, staring at her. Uhura remained on the bed, closing her eyes. When she opened them, he was on the bed before her, pushing her down. Gently. He moved over her. His eyes were open and fixed on hers. Spock pressed against her, covering her with his heat, locking her fingers with his and pushing them into the mattress. He was still erect; she felt him wedged against her belly. But he made no move to enter her. Instead he rubbed his nose and cheek against her face, sniffing her, closing his eyes as he moved across her cheeks and over her forehead. Uhura gasped. Compared to this morning and yesterday, this was downright erotic.
“Ny…o…ta…” Her name was the barest whisper on his lips. Uhura gasped; this was the first time he said her name.
He rubbed his cheek against the side of her face and nuzzled her neck. Stunned, she lay there and let him. He moved slowly, running his cheek and nose across her throat and chest, his breathing deepening.
“Nyota,” he said again.
“Spock,” she repeated. “Spock?” Her hands were caught by his or she would have tried to caress his face.
He closed his eyes and took one of her breasts into his mouth. Not like yesterday. Now it was slow, soft…like normal. Had she not been numb from the double dose of hydrocodone, his current actions would have been pleasurable.
But this she could deal with.
When he did enter her, it was not as before. His thrusts were not hard, not rough. He stared at her, holding her thighs open. Uhura stared back at him, her hands flat on the bed where he left them. She was overly lubricated from the hypos. He was not hurting her.
“Nyota,” he said again.
“Spock,” she whispered. The hydrocodone was making her sleepy. She would have preferred to be in such a blissful state this morning or last night. Not now. Not while he was making love to her.
“Spock,” she said again, closing her eyes. “Spock…”
“Ny…o…ta…” he breathed, kissing her.
Kirk’s belief that a fight with Spock would reduce his fever for her was apparently correct. Before Uhura drifted off, she prayed that he hadn’t died to prove it.