Title: Nightmare--From Another Dimension!
(Anyone catch the 'Animation Show' reference? Heheheh.)
Author: Farfalla the Butterfly-Kitten
Email: blueberrysnail (at) yahoo dot com
Website: The Kirk/Spock happyplace at COSMiC DUCKLiNG
Characters: Kirk/Spock, MU Chapel (who will be played in this story by Beatrix Kiddo, apparently)
Rating: NC-17
Written for the Friday the 13th "Worst Day Ever" SBS challenge. Beta-read by Hypatia, if I can force hir to.
Summary: Mirror Chapel finds herself on the regular Enterprise and attempts to implement a "fuck-or-die" scenario on the "wimpy" Federation versions of her brutal, boorish captain and his ruthless sidekick. One problem--some things are *very* different in this universe...

Nightmare--From Another Dimension!

"Born 'n' bred in the briar patch!"
--Br'er Rabbit, 'Song of the South'

The voice on the shuttle intercom came through in broken pieces, like the shards of a shattered mirror. "This is the ISS Enterprise calling Shuttle Napoleon."

"Commander Uhura! This is Napoleon. Do you read me?" The shuttle's lone occupant banged on the controls in frustration.

"Napoleon, do you copy? We are not receiving your signals." Uhura's voice was becoming harder and harder to hear.

"Uhura!" More buttons, but nothing worked. "Fucking ion storm."

"We will attempt an emergency beam," Uhura said over the channel.

"No, you can't! Beaming's too dangerous during an ion storm!" But of course, the Enterprise wasn't getting any signal from the shuttle, and those words went unheard. "No!"

Dr. Kristina Chapel gritted her teeth and screwed up her eyes in anticipation for the unknown as her molecules were converted into energy...


Kirk looked back and forth between Scotty and Rand agitatedly. "Can you bring her back?"

"We're tryin'!" Scott cried, fumbling with the panel. Rand pushed a complicated sequence of buttons, and Kirk stood beside them with his heart pounding furiously. He hadn't forgotten the grotesque transporter accident that had killed two of his crewmembers right before the V'ger incident, and beaming was always very risky during an ion storm.

But there had been no choice. Chapel's shuttle, Voltaire, had been damaged by the storm, and beaming was the only way to get her back to the ship safely. Or as safe as one would hope.

A slender glow appeared on the transporter pad and, with agonizing slowness, cleared into Dr. Chapel.

Kirk rushed to her side and took her hand. "Christine, are you all right?"

"I'm fine, just a little shaken." She sighed loudly. "Is the shuttle gone?"

"We'll try bringin' the shuttle back into the docking bay," Scotty reassured her. "We just wanted to make sure you were safe first."

"Thank you, all of you."

Kirk followed Chapel out of the room.

Scott turned to Rand. "She needs a few minutes to restore power after that last load," he explained. "We shouldn't try beamin' anythin' in for at least five minutes."

"Do you have something else to do, or do you have time to look at those units we picked up at the starbase last week?" Rand asked him. "Something's funny about them."

"Sure, lass, I've got the time. Got to make sure all equipment aboard this ship is in top condition." Scott and Rand exited, leaving the room temporarily deserted.

Half a minute and one whirring glow later, another Dr. Chapel appeared on the transporter pad. It only took her one five-second look at her surroundings to know exactly what had happened, and where she was.

And it only took her another five seconds to know what she was going to do there.


It was ship's night, and Spock had walked Kirk to the roomy Captain's Quarters for the evening. Kirk leaned against the doorframe without keying open the door and smiled lazily at Spock. "So I'll see you in an hour, then?"

"It should not take me longer to complete my equations," Spock affirmed.

"Good, I've been wanting to wrap my arms around you all day." Kirk was officially Off-Duty, and his body knew it.

"Then I will endeavor to conduct my obligations with alacrity." Spock's long lashes flickered slightly. It was the only sign he gave that Kirk's statement and inclinations had pleased him, but it was enough for the golden-haired human.

"I'll go jump in the shower." Kirk slid his key down the strip, his back to the doorway.

The door slid open with a familiar hiss.

"Jim!" Spock shouted, and leapt forward, but he was too late. The woman standing behind the captain had already shot him full of tranquilizers, and Kirk collapsed to the floor in a dead faint. Before he could escape and call for Security, the woman aimed again and shot Spock full of the same tranquilizer.

His knees buckled and the world winked out.


Dr. Kristina Chapel sat on top of Kirk's desk, one leg crossed over the other. It swang with self-assurance as she observed before her the satisfying scene she had created.

With her background, it had been child's play to implement a medical override on the computer controlling the lock on the door. It had to be important for a doctor to have access to any cabin at any time, unless specifically locked out by the command staff. Apparently the other Dr. Chapel was still in James Tiberius's good graces.

The unconscious forms of Captain Kirk and Commander Spock sat beside each other on the two chairs she'd found in the cabin, each one with one ankle tied to the furniture. They'd been pumped full of tranquilizers, but that would wear off soon enough, and then the real fun would begin.

Tranqs weren't the only thing Dr. Chapel had had in her medical bag when she'd beamed aboard.

Kirk and Spock's eyelids began to squirm at the same time, and she watched with glee as they came to and grimaced at their positions. "Rise and shine, gentlemen!" Chapel said, mock-soothingly. "And I do use that word liberally."

"Christine?" Kirk furrowed his brow in angry confusion.

"Kristina," Chapel corrected.

"The ion storm," Spock pointed out.

"Smart man," said Chapel smugly.

"But our Chapel arrived here safely." Kirk blinked.

"Then my shipmates probably think I'm dead."

Kirk and Spock both stood up and rushed at her, but their leg chains were just barely too short. "Ah-ah-ah, gentlemen!" Chapel shook one gloved finger at them, teeth glinting. "You don't want me out of the way. You need me." She winked at her medical bag, which she'd taken off and placed at the back of the desk.

"Computer, security!" Kirk shouted.

"She's been turned off," Chapel whispered, one finger to her lips. "Shhh!"

"What do you want?" growled Kirk.

"I want," Chapel began, "what you've had, in my universe. The satisfaction of seeing your underlings humiliated before you, forced to bend their actions to your sadistic amusement. I want revenge. Isn't that what every pretty girl wants?"

"That wasn't me! I didn't do any of those things," Kirk insisted.

"I know, and I'm sorry," said Chapel, a sad smile painted across her face. "But in this wimpy universe, trapping you two was a piece of cake. It wouldn't have worked in mine."

"And you'd--probably be dead," Kirk pointed out.

"Indeed," Spock piped up.

"You!" Chapel barked at him. "You've broken the necks of some of my *best friends*." Her eyes narrowed at him, glittering. She wasn't smiling now.

"I cannot be held accountable for the actions of my counterpart."

"Apparently you can, buster," Chapel snapped. "You are, right now." She paused to regain her former air of cocky calm. "Let me explain your positions, gentlemen. You have both been injected with a lethal dose of phrenizite. If I decide not to give you the antidote within two hours..." She waved the antidote around in the air lazily, not finishing her sentence.

"And what--must--we do, in order to get the antidote?" Kirk asked, gritting his teeth at her, inwardly pleading that it had nothing to do with the rest of the ship.

Chapel grinned like the Cheshire cat. "Undress."

"Undress?" Kirk repeated dumbly.

"Undress," Chapel confirmed dramatically, "and then, my friends, you are both going to become the cocksuckers you really are."

In her little self-created moment of glory, she missed observing the twitch of a smile and tint of rose that crept into Kirk's face at her announcement. //Jim, do not disclose our relationship,// Spock urged him telepathically.

//Right,// Kirk agreed. //As long as she thinks this is enough to humiliate us to her satisfaction, she may not ask for anything else.//

//You will have to pretend you find my penis distasteful,// Spock noted. //You may face considerable difficulty.//

Kirk couldn't smile back flirtatiously, obviously, so in frustration he just glared openly at Spock for what had been a Vulcan's version of a a joke.

Chapel caught the glare, and gleefully mistook it for disgust. Oh, how easily these macho men fell prey!

"How do we know you'll release us afterwards?" Kirk asked.

"Cross my heart 'n' hope to die?" Chapel grinned like a teenaged cheerleader, making an X over her bosom with one finger. Then she rocked back and lifted one of her booted feet to rest on the desk, knee bent. "Come on, Captain. I don't have all day--and neither do you."

Kirk did his best to look insulted as he fumbled with the hem of his tunic. He lifted it up over his head and laid it daintily on the back of the chair, noticing that Spock was also disrobing. He quickly looked elsewhere and tried to think of Admiral Nogura in dirty sweatpants.

"Come on, boys, work it," Chapel said smugly, more to amuse herself than to hasten their actions.

Kirk and Spock silently pulled off their boots and placed them between their chairs. Then each man undid his fly and off went two pairs of uniform pants.

They stood before Dr. Chapel in boxers, fidgeting slightly. To her, it looked like they were terrified at the prospect of being forced to engage in homosexual acts. In reality, they were just trying desperately hard not to become--desperately hard.

Chapel hopped down off the desk and jauntily approached them. With one gloved hand she reached slowly for the waistband of Kirk's boxers, then snatched them down so quickly the elastic burned. Her eyebrows went up and she smiled in mock-sympathy. "That's the best you could do?"

"I'm a grower, not a shower," Kirk retorted.

"Mm." She nodded condescendingly. "One would hope." Then she whirled around and yanked down Spock's boxers in the same unceremonious manner. "Now that there is some ugly meat."

Spock blinked, ignoring the indignity with Vulcan stoicism.

Chapel turned back to Kirk and cocked her head toward Spock's groin. "Suck it," she commanded.

*Admiral Nogura in sweatpants eating a tomato sandwich dribbling over his desk,* Kirk thought frantically. *Down, boy! Damn!*

//We will be in contact when you fellate me,// Spock reminded him. //I will suppress your physical reaction.//

//Thank goodness for that.// Kirk swallowed uncomfortably. He didn't particularly have a problem with public nudity but he knew Spock must be in some measure of discomfort.

"Get down there and lick that ugly piece of meat." Chapel leaned back against the desk and folded her arms across her chest. "Or would you rather die?" She snorted.

Kirk got to his knees on the floor beside Spock, and with great restraint, took the Vulcan's large organ in his hand. He managed to continue his guise of reluctance with the aid of Spock's Vulcan mind control, which targeted the vessels in Kirk's penis and drained the blood within them through Kirk's veins.

"Hey, Captain, how does it feel to be holding another man's dick in your hand?"

*He's my husband, you stupid bitch,* thought Kirk, *and I need a shower.*

"It's a dick," was all he said. It sounded rather lame.

"Stroke it," she barked.

He stroked.

Spock looked away at the wall as his penis began to rise. If he dared look down at Kirk's beautiful blonde head, Bad Things Would Happen. He didn't think Chapel would continue to believe their charade if he suddenly scooped Kirk up into his arms and licked him six ways to Sunday.

"Open wide, Jimmy boy!" rang Chapel's sing-song voice.

He opened his mouth about half the distance it usually took to engulf Spock's cockhead. Luckily, he still had very vivid memories of the first time he gave a blowjob.

"Suck it. Suck his dick." The woman continued her biting chant like a mantra.

Kirk pressed his lips to Spock's penis and slurped just the head into his mouth. Inside, where Chapel couldn't see, he lovingly swirled his tongue around, orally caressing every contour of the uniquely hybrid alien organ.

"Squeeze his ass," Chapel suggested.

*What are you, the expert?* With a near-divine patience, Kirk reached around Spock's body with one hand and made a show of awkwardly grabbing a handful of Vulcan buttock. He continued to suck, and then let Spock's penis slip out of his mouth for a moment as he faked a gag.

"Keep going."

"I am," Kirk muttered, then retrieved the bobbing organ and shoved it back in his mouth.

Chapel bent down and Kirk felt a gloved hand cup the back of his head. "Take it all in," she hissed. Suddenly, she forced his head forward, driving Spock's erection further into Kirk's mouth.

Kirk dutifully moved his head forward and back, concentrating on the telepathic connection the physical contact afforded them. //Spock, my love, I'm so sorry about this. You must be miserable.//

//My distress at the mirror double's presence is mitigated by your performance, t'hy'la,// Spock assured him. //You are, indeed, an adequate actor.//

//When this is over, provided she doesn't try to start more trouble, I'm going to rub strawberry oil into your back. You've been bending over that console all day and it'll be a big relief.//

//I shall look forward to it, Jim. My Jim. Sweet Jim.//

Amazingly, even during this sickly-sweet silent dialogue, Spock's facial expression remained one of detached contempt. Chapel suspected nothing. She was having Big Fun.

"If he doesn't come, I'm not giving either of you the antidote," Chapel reminded them.

"I am close," Spock informed her. Jim didn't need informing.

"I want you to come on his open mouth, but not inside. I want to see it. And come all over his face. I want to see that proud, brutal captain's face covered in man jizz." She spat these last two words with reptilian venom. "Open your mouth real wide, Captain Kirk, 'n let me see. Jack him off into your mouth."

Kirk relinquished the green firmness from his mouth, and gripped it tightly with one hand. With quick, jerky motions he brought Spock to orgasm. Spurt after spurt of gelatinous Vulcan semen, transparent and slightly green, landed sparkling on his face and lips and tongue.


//Always,// Jim affirmed.

Chapel was crowing. "Take it, Captain! Lick if off your lips and swallow it. Come on, now."

Kirk complied. For the thirty dozenth time in his life, he felt lucky to be married to a Vulcan. Human semen had sometimes wrinkled his nose, but the water-saving Vulcan substance was sweet and fruity like human girlcum and he loved the flavor.

"I've taken your manhood, Captain Kirk," Chapel gloated. She pointed back to Jim's chair, bidding him to sit.

//She's insane,// Jim observed.


"Your turn," she sang melodiously to Spock, in the manner of a pediatrician coming into her waiting room to fetch her next patient. All she needed was a lollipop and a purple stethoscope. Or maybe a balloon.

"What do you require of me?" Spock stared at her calmly.

"On your knees. Put his balls in your mouth."

//I need a shower,// Jim whined internally.

//You worry too much, t'hy'la. It is not offensive,// Spock reassured him as he knelt on the floor beside his human.

He lowered his head into Jim's crotch.

Jim fought back the urge to run his fingers affectionately through Spock's silky hair. As the Vulcan's lips gently engulfed his sensitive testes, the arousal Jim had been stridently preventing for the past several minutes finally sprang into a full and glorious erection. Relief flooded his body as he finally allowed himself to respond to the circumstance.

Chapel was chuckling. "Looks like the great Captain James Tiberius can't help getting hard for a man."

*Of course I can't help it,* Jim thought, his entire body quivering under the localized ministrations of Spock's mouth. *He's probably the best lover on this ship.* And then he had a sudden, horrid thought--a pang of severe relief that Chapel hadn't decided to rape Spock with her own body, or tools. ~That~ would have been disaster.

"Spock," Chapel commanded. "Blow him."

/I have always found that term illogical,// Spock quipped mentally as he shifted around down there, letting go of one sensitive Jimpart to orally pick up another. Jim's penis found a happy home in Spock's familiar mouth. If Chapel hadn't been there, what a wonderful way this would have been to wind down a busy day of space exploration...

Jim's eyes began to close in delight. Chapel, of course, noticed, and barked at him. "You can't hide, Jimbo. I know what you're thinking. You're imagining that's your little Marlena or Elizaveta or Pilar or Daniela down there, sucking out those man-juices. Well, it's not. That's a man down there and he's bigger than you, and you're letting him suck you off."

//Elizaveta Markovnikova?// Spock wondered. //The xenomicrobiologist?//

//Didn't Chekov... date her for a while? I... guess.... not in the other universe.// Jim's thoughts came staggered, losing their way across his mind as it rolled in waves of pleasure.

"Open your eyes," Chapel persisted. "Look at Mr. Spock, sucking your cock."

//With pleasure,// thought Jim. //I couldn't wish for anything more beautiful.// Flirt, flirt.

//Amusing,// thought Spock in return. //Her statement is a rhyme.//

Chapel drew nearer to them as they continued the sex act, her fists clenched and her eyes open wide and wild. She looked like a spectator at a horse race, cheering on her favorite stallion and rider.

Jim wondered if she were planning on shooting the horse after the race was won.

Spock's skill at fellatio soon brought Jim to his much-deserved orgasm, and pulses of hot liquid streamed across Spock's lips as Jim gasped his way home. Chapel was suddenly very close by, and with one gloved finger she snatched up a bit of Jim's sperm. She flicked it into his eye, laughing wildly.

As Jim lifted his hand to his face to clear it away, Spock sprang up and seized Chapel between the shoulder and the neck. She collapsed backwards into his arms, completely knocked out from the force of his neck pinch.

"She got too close," said Jim, nodding.

Spock gently placed her on the floor and then sat in the other chair. "I fear we may not be able to acquire the antidote," he observed gravely. "My actions may have been premature."

"Never mind that, Mr. Spock," said Jim comfortingly. "I think it's pretty clear she was insane. We have no way of knowing she would ever give it to us at all. Good work."

They pulled their boxers back up, each thinking silently. "Can you reach her medical bag on the desk?" Jim asked after a few moments.

"I cannot," Spock confessed.

"Is there any way out of these leg irons?"

"I have been trying," said Spock. "They are medical cuffs, designed for dangerous psychiatric patients, and are set to release only to the orders of Dr. Chapel."

"Yes, I... remember seeing these on Janice Lester," said Kirk. "What about the computer?"

"Also locked down to the rest of the ship's personnel at the command of Dr. Chapel."

"So, the solution is obvious," said Jim, with a sardonic lilt to his voice. "We need Christine."

"Computer, locate Dr. Chapel," Spock said in a loud voice. No response.

"Computer, override any medical lockdown, on authority of Admiral James T. Kirk!" No response. "Dammit!"

Jim gave out a loud, exasperated sigh. "Spock, this... phrenizite she said she used. How much time do we have?"

"I cannot say precisely because I do not know how long we were unconscious from the tranquilizer," said Spock, "but I would estimate no longer than an hour."

"Is there any chance she could have been making it all up? The chemical, I mean."

"My nervous system has been aware of some outside interference for the duration of this experience."

"In other words, no."

They sat in silence, each testing his own leg-iron for a place of weakness. They were constructed well, and it was frustrating work.

"Perhaps if we unscrewed the mesh divider from the wall," Spock suggested.

Just then, there was a loud noise at the door to the cabin, and then a flash of light. Smoke welled from the door's edge, and with a burst of sparks, it slid open.



"Jim? Spock?" Chapel ran into the room, flanked by two men from Security. She looked around her in amazement at the nearly nude men, the leg irons, and her slumped-over double on the floor. "What happened in here? I tried to use the computer and it said I was logged in over here, and then, when I tried to call, I got no answer... and the door was locked..."

"First of all, arrest her for kidnapping and assault, and get her in every kind of restraints you've got," Jim commanded, gesturing towards the sleeping villain.

"Who is she?" Chapel asked in wonderment, staring at the familiar but yet unfamiliar face.

Spock was examining the badge on Mirror Chapel's uniform. "She is Dr. Kristina Chapel," he said calmly, "of the I.S.S. Enterprise."


Kristina's world blurred into consciousness and she realized she was resting on a bed-pad in the Brig. Restraints festooned her body like ornaments on a Christmas tree. On the other side of a thin, shimmering force-field stood a woman with a long brown braid, wearing a white jumpsuit.

"You must be me," said Kristina, a little awed.

"No, I'm Christine," said the other Dr. Chapel. "We're very different people."

"Are you a doctor?"

"Yes, I got my medical degree four years ago on Vulcan," said Christine. "What about you?"

"I had to go back to Earth. The Empire was tired of patients dying under McCoy's knife when he was drunk, so he made me finish. I'd always wanted to. Had to leave medical school in the first place when the Empire drafted me to be a nurse on a starship. I had no choice."

"It must give you satisfaction to finally be a doctor, then."

"Yes, but it is still difficult..."

"Your universe seems so complicated."

"It's what we know." Kristina was silent for a moment, then added, "You've come to free me."

Christine shook her head sadly. "No, I neither can nor want to do that. You've perpetrated an assault on my two commanding officers--who are also my dear friends."

"Dear friends!" exclaimed Kristina. "That brutish, arrogant, self-centered captain--"

"He's different here," Christine insisted patiently. "Very different. He's warm, kind, and has saved the lives of hundreds of people. He--"

"I can't believe any kind of James Tiberius Kirk would ever put anybody before his own goals," Kristina snorted.

"I'm sorry," Christine said simply.

"And Spock!" Kristina continued. "Conniving bastard. Ruthless little son of a bitch. Had Monty Scott pistol-whipped with a phaser for hours after his little mutiny before he finally gave out."

"Not here." Christine shook her head slowly, swallowing her shock at the fate of Mirror Scotty. "They're neither of them perfect men, but they don't deserve whatever torture you put them through."

"Where are they now?" Kristina asked slyly.

"Both in Sickbay, recovering from the poison you gave them," said Chapel. "Once we administered the antidote, they both got very sleepy. They're resting now."

Kristina's only response was the bitter expression that crawled across her face.

"You threatened them," Christine accused. "And we checked your medical bag. You didn't have the antidote with you, did you."

"No," Kristina admitted nonchalantly, shrugging her shoulders.

"You would have murdered them, after letting them think they were fighting to live."

"I found myself here by an accident," Kristina said, "but I wasn't about to waste the opportunity."

"Opportunity?" Christine repeated. "Were you trying to kill our captain and Mr. Spock, hoping that your own Kirk and Spock would suddenly die?"

"It's easier here," Kristina tried.

"You thought because our men are more peaceable, that they'd be easier to--"

"Eliminate," Kristina supplied. "Leaving Decker in command." She grinned, as if Christine's comprehension was suddenly guaranteed.

"Decker?" Christine looked at her quizzically.

"He's wrapped around my little finger--I'd have control of the starship!" said Kristina emphatically. "That isn't true here?"

"I've never been very close with Will Decker," said Christine. "And he went off with Ilia years ago." She declined to explain that they'd joined with V'ger... better not to give this stranger too much information.

"Ilia," spat Kristina. "Kirk had her killed. Silly ass didn't know the ropes." Christine's stomach turned slightly, and she didn't ask for more details. "I wouldn't have done that. She could have still been useful in Sickbay," Kristina continued. "You can never have too many subjects for medical testing. Well, you can imagine. Do you see why I tried to do what I did? The Enterprise *needs* me in command, not *him*."

"I can't see how that would have been guaranteed to work!" Christine exploded. "*Our* Scotty isn't dead. How could you assume that anything you did here would have any bearing on your own universe?"

"Even if it didn't work, I still got some satisfaction," Kristina smirked.

"What, by torturing them?"

Kristina nodded slowly. "Come on, Doctor. I know you want to hear about it. There must be some part of you that, deep down inside, resents them for something. I know your mind. I've lived inside the same model all my life."

"Of course I want to know what you did," Christine said huffily. "I'm a doctor. If there's anything I need to know to pick up after your handiwork, I want to hear it. What did you do to them?"

A low cackle began in Kristina's throat, then welled out into a fizzing laugh. "Cocksuckers," she choked over a mass of giggles. "That's what they are! I made sure of that."

Christine blinked. Surely--

Kristina's laughter died away into a simple grin. "I humiliated them beyond their wildest nightmares."

Chapel furrowed her brow. Kirk and Spock had been angry, righteous, and relieved when they'd been rescued, but they didn't look all that scarred for life. And from Kristina's words, an idea was forming in her mind--a wildly improbable notion, no doubt, but yet--

"What did you do to them, Dr. Chapel?" Christine demanded.

"I forced them to suck each other's cocks," Kristina announced smugly. "Must have been quite a shock for the great James Tiberius and the mighty warrior Spock." She said these epithets with a tone of haughty contempt.

Christine Chapel stared at her blankly, feeling suddenly as if she were the victim of a tremendous practical joke. Was Candid Camera hiding behind the wall? This Kristina character couldn't possibly be serious...

Then again, conversation had already proven that the two universes were different in many other significant ways.

"Shocking, isn't it," Kristina spouted, misunderstanding the silence. "I can't think of a better way to torture those guys."

Christine opened her mouth and licked her lips, framing her words carefully. "I don't know how to tell you this," she said to her mirror double, "but in our universe, they both like men, and..." She sighed at Kristina with an expression of condescending apology. "...they've been married to each other for three and a half years."