Title:                 One in a million

Author:             Lady Charena

Series:              TOS

Rating:              R

Codes:             Mc/Horta, [S/Mc]


Feedback:        Yes, please - <LadyCharena@aol.com>


Summary: Doctor McCoy pays a house call to the Horta.


Note: mental speech is set between ' '


Disclaimer: Paramount/Viacom owns Star Trek. The story is mine - no moneymaking or offence of copyrights intended. If you're underage or don't want to read something like this, please move on to a more suitable story.


Please be patient with any errors, English is not my native language. My thanks to Janet for proofreading and to T'Len, who challenged me to write it and for her invaluable help.




One in a million 1/1

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Lady Charena

(Mai/July 2001) Dec. 2001



The light stick he attached to his belt caused strange shadows. How the hell was he supposed to find her? Each of these tunnels looked exactly like the other.


Spock, yes, with his superior sense of direction, would unerringly point to one of the tunnels. But the Vulcan beamed back aboard some time ago to soothe over some discrepancies, which had arisen between the command team during the last two days. 


A joyless smile crossed McCoy's features. He was pretty sure Jim had put on that slightly sullen facade only to lure the Vulcan back aboard the Enterprise and away from his investigations about the Hortas. And to deprive McCoy at the same time of his only joy in this mission: to work close with Spock. Sometimes he thought Jim suspected the truth about his feelings concerning the Vulcan...


Suddenly he stumbled, stepping into a crack on the floor - too engrossed in his thoughts that he'd paid almost no attention to his surroundings. Pain shot through his right knee, as it impacted with the ground.

With a curse, he gathered himself up and went to his feet. Leaning against the cold wall of the tunnel, he bent to massage his aching knee. 


"Doctor McCoy... sad?"


He jumped, suddenly hearing the creaking voice of the Horta and turned to face her.


Horta slid soundlessly out of the entrance to a tunnel she'd built only moments ago to watch the human.


It was amazing how clever she used the translator Spock programmed for her, McCoy thought. She switched it on or turned it off through mental signals and played with the volume control, producing a lot of creaking, grumbling and cracking sounds - and sometimes, audible words. Spock told him about his theories concerning the Horta's ability to communicate telepathically if contacted. With some training, she could use it to a greater degree than he assumed, during his first contact with her.


A smile crossed his face as McCoy moved to kneel next to her, suppressing a wince as his right knee hurt. "I don’t generally pay house calls to my patients," he said joking, and without answering her question. "But I thought you would welcome a visit more than a transport aboard the Enterprise." He took a scanner from his medikit. "Are you feeling well?" After breaking orbit of Janus VI, he would write a report about Hortas that would cause a sensation.


"Are you.... feeling well?" Horta repeated.


McCoy thought she didn't understand his question. "Are you still in pain?" he tried again and gestured towards the cement-covered wound onto her back.


A tremor run trough the fine fringes, surrounding her solid body, and showed her rising excitement. "Horta - no," she said, producing a lot of ominous creaking sounds. "McCoy - yes?"


Again McCoy smiled and bent slightly forwards to touch the warm surface of her body. "No, I wasn't hurt. I am well."


Horta seemed to consider his words, then again a tremor slide through the fringes. She moved to straighten her flat body.


McCoy almost winced. He thought about the remains of the mineworker he had examined. If he had insulted her by mistake, he wouldn't have time to find it out. The fringes on the front of the Horta touched his chest, and he felt a tingling sensation spreading through his entire body.


"There - pain", Horta, said.


McCoy understood. He moved to stand up and put the scanner back into his medikit. "It is considered rude to read the thoughts of another person without its permission," he said flatly. He loathed to be touched mentally without being prepared for something like that, even if it happened out of good intentions.


"Not Horta," she answered and dropped back to lie flat on the ground again.


McCoy wondered if she told him she didn't consider this rude, or if she denied touching his mind at all. He didn't know if Hortas were able to lie.


"Horta grateful," she continued. "Horta can help McCoy?"


"Help?" McCoy repeated unbelieving. "But I don't need help, Horta. I'm well." He felt he eyes were focused on him. But *do* Horta's have eyes at all? They are living in eternal darkness...so many questions and so few answers. Maybe he should simply ask her. He set down on the entrance of the tunnel she had built to meet him.


And Horta slid forwards to lie next to him, her warm body touching McCoy's thigh. Her fringes moved along the length of his leg like thousands of thin, flexible fingers. Again, he felt that soft tingling sensation. Fascinated by her touch, he lifted his hand to run it over the amazingly smooth surface of her body.


'Humans are softer than Hortas,' he "heard" her mental voice.


Obviously she was able to contact him telepathically by touch. Spock would be surprised to know this...

It felt unexpectedly good. He waited for the fear, the rushes of detest and defenselessness, he had always thought he would feel in a situation like this.


He waited in vain; all he could feel was an alluring sense of being welcomed, of being held. He calmed down enough to relax into a dreamlike state.


Without the translator, the Horta's voice sounded like her hull, warm and gentle, hard and rough, all at the same time. 'Humans are as cool as the rocks,' she said. 'Human minds are cool, too. Not like Vulcans. His touch was burning hot. Where is Spock?'



"He returned to the ship," McCoy answered quietly. "But I'm sure he will visit you to say goodbye, before we leave the orbit of Janus VI."


Horta smiled. Of course not visible, but McCoy could feel it...


Again Horta's fringes moved along the length of his leg like thousands of thin, flexible fingers.


McCoy tensed involuntarily, as she didn't stop but covered his groin with her fringes. He tried to withdraw from her touch, but found he couldn't move, jammed between her body and the wall.


The caress of her thoughts changed to something less verbal, and more erotic. Pictures of hands, sliding over his skin, appeared in his mind. But he felt the movements of the fringes. An erotic mixture, that left him trembling with pleasure.


Horta started to hum. It had been a long time since she sung for a lover. And she really liked McCoy. Her big body shivered, as he unknowingly reflected back the pleasure he received from her touch.


The physician relaxed and closed his eyes. Horta's humming seemed to spread throughout his body. His head lolled back against the wall as he started to listen to her wordless song. Telling an age-old story of love between Horta and Horta. In his mind he saw pictures: millions of Hortas living in the dark tunnels of Janus VI, two Hortas, singing for each other. The songs had never changed since the beginning of time, passed on from generation to generation, as the heritage of their race.

And he understood. Horta was singing for him.


The soft hum changed to a throbbing, increasing fast in speed and fierceness. Horta's body went totally still, just her fringes moved over the human, touching, caressing, and loving. Healing.


The throbbing centered in McCoy's groin, and he felt his penis stiffen. But it felt good, felt right, and he didn't fight it. Heat spread throughout his body, and his back tingled, where he touched the cold wall of the tunnel. Like waves the pleasure, he received from the Horta built higher and higher.


He trembled, his hands slid over the Horta's hull, and he felt her pleasure of being touched like this.


He found himself in darkness, the air filled with the ecstatic hum of million of Hortas, another memory he shared with her. The mere stone around them seemed to vibrate with their humming. The sound reached a peak, and McCoy felt himself surrender to climax.


Silence surrounded him, as McCoy opened his eyes. He felt spent, but in a most pleasant way, not as bone tired as before.


Horta "watched" him with amusement. She received more than she had dared to hope. She moved to free him from his cramped position against the wall.


McCoy opened his mouth, without exactly knowing what to say, as his communicator pierced the silence. He fumbled for the device. "McCoy." he said, his voice creaky.


"Doctor McCoy" Spock answered. "Are you ready to beam aboard the ship?"


"I... yes, of course. Just give me another five minutes, Spock." McCoy watched Horta. "Ah, Spock, there is somebody waiting down here to say goodbye to you."


A short silence. "I understand," Spock, answered, amusement colored his words. "I will beam down in five minutes."


Slowly, McCoy closed the communicator and got to his feet. He bent to massage his cramped legs.


'You love him', Horta said, and it was no question.


McCoy didn't look at her.


'Why do you not tell him?'


At last the physician looked at her. "I cannot."


'Why not?' Horta insisted.


"Because he... I think... I think he and Jim are lovers."


'They are not.' Horta smiled.


 "How... oh, I understand. The meld with Spock." McCoy shivered, suddenly feeling cold. "But this is impossible. He'd never..."


'Ask him,' she interrupted his words.


"Ask? Of course, I simply go to him and say: "Sorry Mr. Spock, I'm in love with you. I hope you don't mind." He will..." he stopped himself, turning away from Horta.


'There are always possibilities, Leonard,' Horta said.


"You don't have to quote Spock," McCoy answered dull. "I..." Steps approaching the two interrupted him.


Spock entered the tunnel. He nodded. "Doctor McCoy. I hope your investigations are successful?"


McCoy cleared his throat. "Yes. Horta was..." He turned to her, but the Horta was gone. "...Was very helpful. But I was thinking she wanted to say goodbye to you."


The Vulcan gazed thoughtfully at the physician. "She contacted me after my beam down on the planet to bid her farewell. Also Horta asked me to relay a message to you." He moved close to McCoy.


"Yes?" the physician whispered.


"She said only two words: Tell him." Spock's eyes bore into McCoy's.


"Tell what?" McCoy retreated, but Spock followed, and he was again trapped between the wall and a warm body.


"Whatever it is you have to tell me, Leonard," the Vulcan answered softly.


"I..." Running out of words, he closed the distance between them, and bent his head to touch his lips to Spock's. "This," he whispered, anxiously waiting for his reaction.


Spock had closed his eyes. A soft shiver ran through his body, as he bent forward to touch McCoy's lips with his fingertips. "You should have told me," he said.


Deep down in the tunnels of Janus VI, Horta sang again for two lovers.