Title: McCoy and Me aka When McCoy was Turned into a Dog

Pairing: McCoy/Chapel UST

Warnings: Innuendo and cursing.

Disclaimer: Star Trek does not belong to me. The title is a play on Marley and Me, which I also, do not own.

Summary: McCoy sat up and lifted his leg to scratch and as the nails on his back paw hit the itchy spot, it occurred to him that something was really, very wrong.

A/N: This is an answer to the st_xi_kink prompt on LiveJournal to turn McCoy into a cuddly animal. I really don't have any excuse other than that. Please let me know what you think. This is truly just for fun.

"You have insulted our sacred totem!" the woman yelled at McCoy, her gnarled hands raised in front of her face. "A curse be upon you! You will find yourself close to your deepest desire, but unable to act, unable to speak, unable to lay your hands upon it. A curse upon you!"

McCoy stared back at the woman and debated just how to answer. He could practically hear Jim bite his tongue and Spock raise his eyebrow.

"Ma'am, the last thing I intended to do was insult you," McCoy said through gritted teeth. "I just believe that you should learn the basics of sanitation, which, I'm sorry to say, include not letting animals defecate in the water supply!"

"A curse!" was all the doctor got in response.

Luckily, the chief of the tribe on the small planet they were visiting stepped in and diffused the situation. He pulled the men away and agreed that they would try some of the suggestions McCoy and the others had.

"I am sorry about Shama," the chief said. "She is not fond of change and sees outsiders as infidels. She holds tightly to the old ways. Pay no attention to her."

McCoy just nodded and went about his duties, but the sound of the woman's voice decrying, "A curse!" echoed in his mind.

"So, what's this I hear about you being cursed?" an amused voice asked.

McCoy swiveled around on the stool in the lab and scowled at his Head Nurse.

Chapel just grinned and said, "It's all the captain can talk about."

"Damn it, Jim," McCoy said under his breath and then, "It's nothing. Just the ravings of an old woman."

"Uh huh," Chapel said rocking on her heels and looking far too innocent. "Something about not being able to touch your deepest desire? Sounds frustrating."

"Cute," he said. "Don't you have somewhere else to be?"

"Nope," she said. "You know I live to bother you."

"Yeah," he said as he swiveled back to his lab read outs. She did actually. Bother him. Not in an annoying, little sister way. God, there was nothing sisterly about the way Christine Chapel bothered him. No, it bothered him that she always smelled incredible, like cinnamon and orange. It bothered him that she was so terribly calm and intelligent, he longed to see her come undone, just once. Preferably in his bed, but the couch in his office was a fine substitute. It bothered him that her legs were gorgeous and went all the way down and distracted him to no end.

And he couldn't do a damn thing about it.

That's what bothered him the most. She was his colleague, his friend and his track record with meaningful relationships was spotty at best, so there was no way in hell he was going to screw this one up.

"So, are you feeling the effects yet?" she asked.

"Effects of what?"

"The curse, dummy," she said.

"Oh for--" He turned back to her. "You are aware that there are no such things as curses? I mean, you are an educated medical professional, right?"

"And you are aware that I grew up in New Orleans?" she said. "Don't be too hasty to ignore a curse. You never know."

"Oh, now you're just trying to piss me off," he said. "There are no such things as curses."

"'There are more things in heaven and earth...'" she started to recite.

"No! No Shakespeare!" McCoy said loudly. He pointed at the door. "If all you're going to do is quote at me, you can just be on your way!"

Chapel smiled at him and said, "You are the easiest mark I have ever known, Leonard McCoy." She winked at him and walked out of the lab.

"Insufferable, temptress of a woman," he muttered. He spent another hour in the lab, then went back to his office to do some dictation. The late shift came in and he decided that he'd done enough damage for the day. Plus, over the last hour, his head had begun to ache, right in the temples.

McCoy left his office, nodded to the night staff and headed towards his room. His headache increased as he walked along. Suddenly, a sharp pain burst right behind his eyes and he fell to the ground.

The first thing McCoy became aware of when he opened his eyes was the fact that the world had bizarrely turned into shades of gray. The next thing was that he was on the floor and the spot behind his ear itched. McCoy sat up and lifted his leg to scratch and as the nails on his back paw hit the itchy spot, it occurred to him that something was really, very wrong.

McCoy yelped, promptly lost his balance and fell over. He lay on the cool floor for a second and then raised his head.


He was a dog.

God damn it.

As best as he could tell, he wasn't a prissy dog. He was pretty low to the ground and black and white. McCoy spent a good few minutes turning around and around checking out his tail.

He was pretty pissed off at the situation, but he'd be the first to admit that having a tail was definitely something worth exploring.

McCoy finally sat down to think. So, he was a dog. Something, somewhere had gone wrong and it was only a matter of time before he figured out a solution.

Sickbay. He'd go to sickbay. Answers always came to him in sickbay. And there was an answer to this. He was not going to be stuck like this forever. He was doctor, not a four-legged flea bag. Oh, Christ. Did he have fleas?

A sound rose up in his throat. He bit the whine back and stood up, and wow. Being on four legs was odd. He put one paw in front of the other and fell into the rhythm of walking with a disturbing amount of ease.

As he padded down the hall, he realized that his senses were incredibly keen. He could smell each being that had been down this hallway, their scents leaving trails that crisscrossed and overlapped each other. McCoy had to reign himself back from just following one to see where it led him. He came at last to the turbolift and discovered a new problem.

He couldn't reach the panel to wave himself onto the god damned lift. Hell, even if he could reach it, he doubted the computer would recognize his paw print. He sat down and glared at the doors. He even growled which surprised him at first, but he soon liked the feeling and the pleasant rumble it created in his chest and throat.

The doors chimed announcing the arrival of the lift. He got to his feet and his tail wagged. With any luck the doors would open and he could get on. The doors opened and the familiar scent that hit his snout made him back up and huff.

"Oh my goodness!" Christine Chapel said with eyes widened in surprise. "Puppy, what on earth are you doing here?"

McCoy huffed again and blinked. Well, this was embarrassing.

Chapel exited the turbolift and crouched down on the floor. She held out a hand, palm down, fingers curled under. "It's okay, sweetheart. We'll figure this out, it's okay."

McCoy recognized the soothing tone she was using on him. She also used it whenever a nervous ensign reported for their physical. He crept over to her and sniffed her fingers. Oh, sweet heaven, she smelled amazing. He butted his head under her hand. Chapel smiled and rubbed the top of his head. Oh, that felt really good. She slid her hand down to rub behind one of his ears and his back leg twitched in response.

"Oh, aren't you adorable? You're just a sweet puppy, aren't you?" she said. McCoy considered taking offense at being called adorable, but her hand was doing magical things to his nervous system. "Should I tell someone about you? Did you come from the planet? Oh, what should I do with you?"

Take me home and never, ever stop doing that thing with your hand, was his first thought. His second was, No, wait, you've got to take me to sickbay.

McCoy reluctantly pulled his head from her hand and walked over to the turbolift and barked. Oh, that was interesting. He tried it again.


"Shh, sweetie, uh, good," she tilted her head to look under him, "boy. Looks like." If McCoy could blush, he would have. "You need to be quiet."

McCoy huffed again.

"Oh, stop that," she said. "I'm trying to help. Let's go to my room first and then decide where to take you. You look healthy enough."

Before McCoy knew it, he was in Chapel's arms and being carried down the hallway. "Oh, you smell like puppy!" she said. "Such a good boy."

He tried to struggle, but she smelled so good and was so warm, he decided to go along for the ride. They got to Chapel's door and she keyed her entrance code and they went inside. She set him on the floor and walked over to her comm.

McCoy was assailed by the smells in her room: the ever present cinnamon, mixed with woman and the disinfectant used in sickbay. Heavenly. He walked over to her and sat at her feet while she tried to contact the bridge. Chapel absently started to scratch his head again and his tail wagged. He wondered if she'd rub his belly.

"Uhura, Chapel here."

"Hi, Christine. We still haven't found him. Which is really odd, because the computer shows that he never actually left the ship and is still present on board. It just can't pinpoint McCoy's biosigns. Kirk and Spock have beamed back down to the surface to talk to the chief."

"Thanks, Nyota," Chapel said. McCoy's ears had pricked up during the exchange and she ran her fingers over them. "Let me know if you find him."

"Of course," Uhura said. "Get some rest."

Chapel turned off the comm and looked down at him. He looked up at her. Even though her features were shaded he could still worry in her eyes.

"Answer me this, boy," she said. "Just how does the CMO of a starship disappear?"

McCoy whuffed a little and licked her hand. Oh, she tasted nice. Chapel smiled at him. "That's my second question, how did you end up on a starship?"

He turned around and surveyed the room. What could he do to get her to take him to sickbay? McCoy found the answer. He trotted over to her clothes hamper and using his teeth, pulled out her used uniform.

"Hey! No! Bad puppy! Put that down!" she said as she tried to pull the uniform from him. He sank his teeth in and growled a little as he pulled back. McCoy found himself in a tug of war with his Head Nurse's uniform with his Head Nurse. They struggled for a few minutes before Chapel reached over and tapped him sharply on the nose. He let go with a snort and landed flat on his butt.

She stumbled a bit too when he let go and shook her head at him as she stuffed her uniform back into her hamper. "Honestly, puppy," she said. She stared at him for a second and McCoy looked back at her. She laughed a little and said, "Did you know one of your ears stands straight up and the other flops down?"

He rolled his eyes.

She frowned. "Did you just roll your eyes at me?" McCoy huffed and butted his head against her leg. "Oh, let me get you some water."

Chapel walked over to her cabinet and filled up a bowl with some liquid from the replicator. She set it on the floor and McCoy spent a good minute figuring out how exactly he used his tongue to lap up the liquid. It tasted amazing. He drank steadily and when he turned around to see what she was doing, he nearly fell over.

Because, there was his gorgeous Head Nurse in nothing but her pale pink bra and panties. He gulped and stared. She walked over to him and crouched on the floor, he wanted to avert his eyes from her chest out of respect, but he was a man first and a dog second, so, yeah. He looked.

"I'm going to go get ready for bed. You are on the floor, buddy. We'll worry about what to do with you in the morning. And hopefully, by then McCoy will have been found. He'll get a kick out of you." Her face fell slightly. "He will be found. He couldn't have just vanished, could he?"

McCoy couldn't help himself; he licked the side of her face. Christine smiled and giggled. "Oh, you give kisses, huh? Sweet boy." She patted his head and went into the bathroom.

McCoy weighed his options. Try to figure out a way of getting out of her room and find someone else to get him to sickbay or stay the night in Chapel's room, where it was warm and smelled nice and let her soft hands scratch behind his ears.

Right. Option two.

McCoy looked at her bed and gauged just how he could get onto it, because no way was he sleeping on the floor. He leapt up and didn't quite manage to get enough lift, so he slid off the side. He tried again. Success! He romped around on the soft surface and then rolled over onto his back and rubbed his scent all over her covers, letting her scent rub off all over him.

Alpha male. That was him.

He settled himself at the foot of the bed and rested his head on his front paws. He closed his eyes. Then he heard a sound in the bathroom. He opened one eye. He heard it again. McCoy lifted his head and listened hard.

With his enhanced canine hearing, he could hear Chapel moving about in the fresher and realized it was her making the sounds. McCoy felt a little worried, so he jumped off the bed and padded over to the bathroom door. He sat right outside and cocked his head to the side.

Then he heard it again, clear as day.

Chapel sighed.

McCoy got to his feet and paced outside the bathroom door. This was bad. This was terrible. If she ever found out... This was so awful. And so unbelievably hot. Chapel in her bathroom, washing herself, touching herself. She made the sound again, and a little whine escaped from his throat. He glanced at the door and paced some more.

"Len." The whisper softly came from behind the bathroom door.

Oh, well. That was interesting.

And, oh so typical. He was in the room of the woman he'd been in lust with for years, in love with for about two and he was a god damned dog.

Then he smelled her. The scent of aroused female wafted in and he growled in response. He could practically taste her as he licked his chops. His honest-to-god chops.

Christine (because at this point, he couldn't keep calling her Chapel) sighed one last time and McCoy stood absolutely still. The scent of her still hung in the air, but now it was joined by the tang of salt. He heard her sniffle quietly. His always put together nurse was crying; most likely over him and his 'disappearance'.

Well, as if it hadn't already been confirmed, McCoy really was a complete and utter dog.

He felt his tail tuck itself between his legs and he turned back to the bed, but decided to settle on the floor next to her side.

Christine came out of the bathroom wearing a tiny pair of shorts and a tank top with red-rimmed eyes and a sad look on her face that brightened when she saw him.

"Aww, look at you. I thought for sure you'd be on the bed. What a good boy you are!" McCoy's tail thumped on the floor as it wagged and she said, "Oh, you're too much. Go on. Up on the bed. Do you need a boost?"

He didn't, but he wasn't going to object to being lifted up in her arms and placed on the bed. She puttered around her room for a few minutes and then pulled the covers back on her bed and got in. She fluffed her pillow up and started to read the PADD that had been on her bedside table. Christine looked at him and smiled as she patted the space next to her. McCoy hesitated, but walked over and curled up beside her. He sighed contentedly as her hand found that spot behind his ears again. McCoy fell asleep instantly.

When McCoy woke up, he wondered why his ass was so cold while his front was so warm. He sleepily nuzzled his face into the warm neck of the woman beside him and tightened his hold on her waist. She sighed lightly and trailed her hand up his side to rest on his shoulder.

Then her hand froze and tightened on his skin painfully. His eyes flew open. The world spun and then came into Technicolor focus. He found himself looking directly at the thrumming pulse of his Head Nurse.

And then he realized that his ass was cold because he was naked.

On the plus side, apparently, he wasn't a dog anymore.

That did not, however, stop Christine from yelling as she shoved him away from her. McCoy hit the floor with a thud.

"Oh my God!" Christine said from the other side of the bed. "McCoy, what the hell are you doing in my bed? Naked?"

"Ah," he said from his spot on the floor. "It's kind of complicated."

"That is not an explanation," she said her face getting red.

"No, it's not," he said. He pulled the sheet from the bed and tried to wrap it around himself. "But, ah, let me just..."

"Wait a second," she said looking around the room. "There was dog here last night. I found him in the hallway."

Christine stopped and looked at him. McCoy just winced and nodded. She shook her head. "No. No way! You are not going to tell me that you were a dog last night! That's not possible!"

"No? Well, how the hell do you explain the fact that I was a dog last night?" he said standing up, adjusting the sheet when Christine averted her eyes. "Damn it. Sorry. Look. I left sickbay and when I was in the hallway, this pain hit me and the next thing I know, I'm wandering around on four legs!"

Christine looked at him and shook her head. "Do you mean to say that the little puppy I brought back to my room, that I changed in front of, was actually you the whole time?"

"Umm, yes?" he said. She covered her face in her hands. "Look, Christine, I'm sorry. I don't know how this happened. I promise, I would never have taken advantage of your, um, hospitality if I hadn't been so, so..."

"Canine?" she supplied with the trace of a smile on her face.

"Yeah, canine," he said. "Holy crap." He raised a hand to rub his face, and held onto the sheet with his other hand.

"Well, I guess you won't be laughing at curses in the future," she said as she smiled fully and sat down on the bed.

McCoy glared at her. "This was not brought on by a curse."

"Oh, no? Then what, Doctor?" she asked. "What, pray tell, turned you into a puppy?"

"I don't know, but I'm sure it wasn't a god damned curse," he said. "And I was a dog, not a puppy."

Christine actually snorted. "No, you were most definitely a puppy."

"I was not!"

"You really were," she said laughing. "You were black and white, scruffy and had a little black patch right on the top of your head. You liked it when I scratched behind your ears. You were a puppy, McCoy. Deal with it."

"Son of a bitch," he said as he slumped onto the bed. "I was a frickin' puppy. Jim's never going to let me live this down."

"He's not the only one," she said cheerfully. McCoy glared at her again. "Oh, come on. You were a very cute, grumpy little puppy."

"Oh, hell," McCoy groaned and fell back onto the bed. He copied her earlier position and covered his face with his hands.

McCoy felt Christine settle herself on the bed and he was taken aback when she pried his hands off his face. He blinked up at her and she simply smiled before she leaned down and kissed him lightly on the lips. She pulled back and looked unsure.

"We didn't know where you were," she said quietly. "I was worried about you."

"I'm sorry," he said just as quietly. "I'd never want to be the one to make you worry."

"I'm afraid that whenever anything happens to you, I'm going to worry," she said. She shrugged. "You worry about the people you care about."

McCoy replayed what she'd just said and grinned before he cupped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her down to kiss her soundly.

By the time he let her go, they were both panting and Christine was on her back with McCoy firmly on top.

"Well," she said as she tried to catch her breath. "You are a hound, Leonard McCoy."

McCoy just growled and captured her lips again.