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Here Comes Peter's Cottony Tail

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"Here comes Peter Cottontail," Jim Kirk sang softly as he readied himself for a big evening of drinking and romancing off duty. His thoughts were of anything but the children's song and story generally shared with adolescents, not with his two best buddies on shore leave. Those same children would be sporting eyes aglow with promises of Easter treats. Kirk's eyes were also glowing, but chocolate bunnies and jelly beans were not what was on his mind. His thoughts were more mundane. And he aimed to get his share of any luscious treats handed out tonight.

Kirk was actually wanting to sing 'Peter's cottony tail', because that was really what was thinking about. But he figured that the melody would've been messed up if he'd sung the little tune that way. The 'tail' that Kirk was envisioning was on the front side of Peter instead of on Peter's rear-end, and the cottony covering of the 'tail' was actually downy hair and not cotton at all. And that 'tail' was definitely intended to deliver a different treat than Easter goodies. Kirk hoped that the treats that he would be receiving would be delivered with a helluva whop. Because Kirk intended to make himself available for any 'tail' that came his way, either from the front or from the rear. He was particularly interested in it coming at his rear-end. Thoughts of an encounter of that sort had had him humming under his breath for hours. He certainly was going well prepared for the evening. He had plenty of lube in his pockets.

"What's Kirk's problem?" McCoy muttered absently as he checked his image in a wall mirror. "He sounds like he's gone bonkers."

"I believe that he is anticipating this evening, Doctor," Spock answered genially as he refrained from checking his presentation. He knew that he looked impeccable in his dress uniform which fit his slender frame so handsomely. He thought that his friends both looked handsome and winsome, but understood the nerves and anticipation that drove the Earthlings to keep checking their appearances.

"What do you mean? Anticipating?" McCoy asked as he inspected his nose for errant hairs showing. He could not imagine someone inspecting him that closely, but McCoy decided that he would cover all the possibilities of what might happen during this glorious evening.

"It is a part of the mating ritual," Spock explained. "Music has always been a means of expressing sexual arousal."

"Singing a crazy song like that? You gotta be shitting me, Vulcan. Sounds like he may have already had too much sugary candy. Shore leave may be coming way too late to save him. Not me, though," McCoy assured Spock as he checked his uniform and face one final time in the mirror, then looked back at Spock. "I'm not in this town just to see the sights and appreciate the culture, that's for damn sure." He winked. "I'm getting laid tonight." He rammed a fingertip painfully into Spock's shoulder. "And that's a guarantee, buddy."

"I believe that is what Jim has in mind for his immediate future plans also, Doctor."

"What about you?" McCoy remembered to ask. "You're dressed to kill, like it's hunting season and you've got a license for any game that's around. Going squirrel hunting with that loaded rifle you're toting around? Or are you just gonna bag what the little boy shot at?"

"I fear that I do not understand you, Doctor. Are those some sort of idiomatic expressions that I have never heard before?"

"Actually, it was just a comparison," McCoy muttered, losing interest in the discussion. "But don't you worry your pretty little head over it," he said as he patted Spock's cheek with his open palm. He was in such a good mood that not even Spock's nonsense was going to bother him. "You just stay here and get your beauty sleep so you'll look fresh as a daisy for the conference tomorrow. Heaven knows, somebody better," he muttered as he turned away.

That got Kirk's attention. "Sleeping? Spock's going to be here, sleeping, tonight?"

"Of course, Jim. He'll be our front man tomorrow. It's what Spock does best. These dignitaries just love to see our token Vulcan, especially when he's the star attraction. It makes them feel so liberal and enlightened to put the spotlight on a member of a minority."

"But we can't leave him here tonight," Kirk protested. "Not all alone."

"Why not? Jim, Spock's a big boy. Aren't you, Spock?" he asked as he slapped Spock's arm. "You'll give it all for the team by keeping the home fires burning, won't you?"

"Now I know that those were idioms, Doctor." Spock felt very clever to recognize the grammatical devices that McCoy had used.

"Can't get anything past you, can I?" McCoy asked as he winked and slapped Spock's arm again. He was ready to agree to anything, just as long as he could get out of this hotel room and begin his own baying at the moon and kicking dust on other guys' attempts to attract females. He was ready to start sniffling anything with a body other than his own, and he was starting to think that he really didn't care about the sex of the other person. Just so the other body was warm and alive and willing to mingle with his. Mingling with him was the most important part of those requirements, he realized. As the moments passed, the more intriguing that mingling with another body all seemed to be. In fact, something with more life to it than a day old corpse was starting to sound pretty hot to him.

Soon, he might not even be too particular about that requirement. He just needed to get started.

But Kirk wasn't satisfied. "You gotta go with us, Spock."

"Oh, hell, Jim! Not this wet blanket!"

"I am not wet, Doctor. Neither am I a blanket."

"Oh, hell, Spock! Stop being so nitpicking! Just when we were both so proud of your recognition of idioms!"

"May I remind you, Doctor, that you are the one who bought up the subject of blankets, not I," Spock retaliated, rather miffed.

"He's right there, Bones. And I think that you need to apologize to him."

"What the hell for?!"

"You know what for," Kirk answered as he nodded slightly, rolled his eyes in Spock's direction, and gave McCoy THE look.

"Are you shitting me?!" McCoy roared.

"I mean it, Bones."

"Okay. If it'll hurry this process along any, I'll do whatever you ask. I'll even swear allegiance to the Klingon kingdom and offer to doctor their warriors for free for life, if that's what it'll take to get me outa this hotel room any quicker." He turned to Spock and swallowed his pride. "Look, Spock, I'm sorry that I was, ah, calling you names. I'm just a little on edge, you know? It's been awhile since I've seen any action. And now that it's so close, it's getting really difficult to ignore the possibilities."

"I understand, Doctor. And I do understand your problem. It is quite apparent that you are wishing to shag the first hot person who is even remotely interested in your condition because you are hornier than hell tonight. Am I indeed correct?"

McCoy blinked in disbelief and Kirk guffawed with strangled laughter.

"That is the expression, is it not?" Spock asked the startled McCoy. He ignored the still hooting Kirk. "I believe that I have heard men in our crew expressing their current conditions thusly when they were anticipating sexual intercourse."

"Well, yeah," McCoy admitted. "But, please, just a little more finesse with how you say things, if you don't mind, okay? Our quest doesn't need to be stated so blatantly. No matter what shape that I'm in, I like to think that there's a part of me that's still human and civilized."

"Fucking is still fucking, is that not so, Doctor?"

McCoy turned a bright red.

Kirk was practically rolling on the floor with laughter. He could barely see for tears running down his face.

McCoy and Spock both ignored the man struggling for breath.

McCoy looked pained. "Spock. Please. Language. I can't believe that I actually had to say that," he muttered. "Not to you."

But Spock was insisting on clarification. "Then it is no time to be calling a spade a spade?"

"Not even a shovel," McCoy muttered, then he tried to explain better. "Look. Every guy likes to think that he's great with the little ladies in the romance department. Our minds might be in the gutter, but we like to believe that our hearts are filled with pure thoughts, too. Okay? We are on a holy mission."

"Of course, Doctor. We must all have our illusions."

McCoy turned toward Kirk. "Can we get outa here now, Jim? I'm itching for action, before I'm too old to remember why."

Kirk was mopping up his face and had finally gained enough control to answer. "I'm itching for action, too, but I still think that we should include Spock. I think that he might be more advanced in the romance department than we had realized."

"I have done research on the Internet," Spock supplied without prompting. "And I observe my surroundings and the actions of the people within them. You know, of course, that I am naturally curious. It would add to my knowledge if I were to accompany you gentlemen, even to the extent that I might be allowed to do some original research myself in the arts of love."

"Spock! I didn't know that you had it in you!" Kirk gushed.

"You underestimate my powers, Captain. And my curiosity."

"Well, there went the evening," McCoy muttered in disgust. "All that Spock really is interested in is defining terms. He might talk a good battle now, but he'll fold when the action starts. And he'll take us down with him. The women will scatter as if we escaped from the local leper colony. The only part of me that'll get any action tonight will be my mouth, and that'll just be through talking!"

"Not necessarily, Bones." Kirk was sizing up the complacent Vulcan with them. He was seeing something in Spock that McCoy was not, and Kirk wanted to pursue it.

"Come on, Jim. He'll slow us down. He'll want to study the structure of buildings, not women. He'll want to understand the morals of the people as a whole, instead of how to corrupt the morals of a few of their prettier women. The evening will be a downer. We won't see any action at all with him along."

"He won't, if we don't go anywhere."

"Are you sending for girls to come visit us?" McCoy asked with rising interest and a distinct pull from his nether regions.

"No, I think that we should use this evening to get better acquainted with Spock."

"Better acquainted with Spock?!" McCoy echoed. "Jim. We're with the guy on a spaceship for months at a time. We're on duty during the same shift, we eat most of our meals with him, and we socialize with him. How much better acquainted can we get with him than that?"

"I'm just saying that it's not nice to leave Spock alone."

"It doesn't bother him, Jim. He's a loner. While you and I, on the other had, want and desire female companionship. Just think of it, Jim. Women. Willing women. Men hungry women. And you want to use shore leave time to bond with Spock? What do you have in mind? Chess games? Trivial Pursuit? You show me yours, and I'll show you mine?"

"Yeah! That!"

"Yeah, what's that?" McCoy asked, puzzled.

"You show me yours, and I'll show you mine," Kirk answered with a grin.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" McCoy asked, suddenly barely able to breathe or to talk. He noticed that Spock's face had turned a deeper shade of green. Apparently Spock had interpreted Kirk's remark the same as McCoy had. But Kirk's proposition had another effect on Spock. The Vulcan seemed to be a little agitated and couldn't quite control his muscular movements. McCoy could understand Spock's distress.

Kirk had a slapdash grin on his happy face. "I believe that I am, Bones. Why do we need to seek out strangers for our fun? Let's get physical with each other tonight!"

"You've obviously lost whatever sense that you ever had, Kirk. I always knew that traveling through space via transporter and spaceship would prove fatal to one of us. I just didn't realize that it would take somebody's sense. Besides, the Vulcan would never go for your crazy plan."

"Have you asked him?"

"Have I--"

"Asked him? You know, asked him?"

"No, I haven't. But I'll show you how crazy you're talking. We'll run it by him, and he'll shoot us down," McCoy said confidently. "Mr. Spock, I need to ask you something," he said, addressing their other friend as he turned to him.

"Yes, Dr. McCoy?" Spock seemed to have regained his composure again. He did not seem to be ruffled in the least. At least somebody else in the hotel room was also sane.

That encouraged McCoy. "Do you want to get naked and nasty with Jim and me? Do you want to roll around while tangled in each other arms and have wild, abandoned sex with us? Do you want to be naked for hours on end with us? While we pleasure each other repeatedly?" There! That should do it! McCoy was pretty certain what Spock's answer would be. This should prove once and for all what a wet blanket that the Vulcan actually was. His words should send Spock running for the door. He'd probably have to drag out a mat and meditate for the rest of the evening to get his balance back.

McCoy tried to ignore a slight stab of disappointment that Spock would decline. The idea held sudden interest for McCoy. Spock. Naked. Doing things to him! Mercy!

"I would not be adverse to such a scenario, Dr. McCoy," Spock answered calmly.

McCoy blinked. "Eh? What?" McCoy shook his head slightly. "Did I understand you correctly?"

"I believe that you did, Doctor. There was not even one idiom in what I said. My meaning is in no danger of being misinterpreted, I am quite certain." Then his voice deepened as his eyes blazed at McCoy. "Nor should you mistake my intent, either, Doctor."

McCoy grinned. "You mean that I'm going to get lucky with you and Jim tonight, Spock?"

"I will certainly endeavor to hold up my end of the arrangements, Doctor. And any parts of my anatomy that takes it upon itself to rise to the occasion."

"You'd actually participate in a threesome with Jim and me?" McCoy asked in awe, just not believing what was happening.

"Menage a trois is a more elegant way of describing the relationship, Doctor. But however it is said, it still means that I get to handle your body as much as I wish. And I wish to do that very much. And the Captain's body, too, of course," Spock finished cordially.

Kirk gave Spock a soft grin.

McCoy studied the calm looking Vulcan who'd just affirmed that he wanted to touch McCoy, all over. "Oh, hell," McCoy breathed. "Oh, hell, I can't believe this shit! I am gonna get lucky tonight, and at the hands of a guy I thought that I didn't ever have a chance with." He glanced at Kirk with the stunned look still on his face. "Jim, can you believe this shit? You and me? And Spock?!"

Kirk, in the meanwhile, was loving the new prospects for the three of them. "We'll make this shore leave memorable, after all, Bones. Of course, we probably won't get much rest, though."

"I think I can handle that."

"And we'll be crap at the conference tomorrow," Kirk noted. "We won't even have Spock for backup. But, I guess we'll get that figured out tomorrow."

"Sounds like a plan to me," McCoy agreed. "Uh, you two wanna come over here so we can get started with the evening's fun?"

Kirk grinned. "I thought that you'd never ask." Then he began singing softly. "Here comes Peter's cottony tail. Hey, the extra syllable doesn't sound bad at all, does it?" He placed warm hands on his two best friends. "And it certainly is more appropriate for our evening's entertainment than the original, gentlemen."

"You talk too much, Jim," McCoy growled.

"I thought that you'd be willing to teach me to sing a different tune," Kirk dared.

"I'd certainly like to try!" McCoy answered with a laugh.

Spock just gave them both a sly grin. Earthlings were so educational. And so lovely to look at. And soon he would know what it was like to handle two of them romantically.

Father had been so wrong. How could the Vulcan Science Academy possibly offer what he would be learning from these Starfleet graduates?