To Each His Own (Star Trek: TOS story by Mary L. Schultz & Cheryl Rice)

You may be looking for the Star Trek: TOS story by Jean Gabriel called To Each His Own.

Star Trek TOS Fanfiction
Title:	To Each His Own
Author(s):	Mary L. Schultz & Cheryl Rice
Date(s):	1980
Length:
Genre:	het
Fandom:	Star Trek: The Original Series
External Links:
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To Each His Own is a highly controversial story by Mary L. Schultz & Cheryl Rice. It was printed in Alpha Continuum #2, and is part of the Diamonds and Rust series.

Many fans also took issue with "the Joanna incident," in which Dr. McCoy goes to bed with a young prostitute who, unknown to both, turns out to be his daughter, Joanna.

The Diamonds and Rust Series Series

See the story order as they were published, and as they took place at Diamonds and Rust Series.

Author's Comments

Why did I write To Each His Own and Idols I Have Loved]?

At the time the idea cane for EACH, I had just read what struck me an the worst Joanna story ever written (altho I an aware of the fact that mine has struck people that way) and decided that I was going to write Joanna my way. There are times when I seriously wonder if a large portion of Trekfen grow up either in a vacuum or in Disneyland. Everything in everyone's created worlds is perfect, everyone's personality/character is clearly delineated, and nothing terrible ever happens. Nothing very complex ever happens either, and I think that's because a great many of us grow up with television, and we are all victims of the notorious '60-minute solution'. Mr. Dillon cleaned up Dodge City in an hour, Sgt. Friday solved crime in an hour, Perry Mason aided justice in an hour, doctors saved lives in an hour... everything was tidy. But oddly enough, everyone's complaint after a diet of this for many years was that television seemed to be existing in a stereotyped vacuum - no reality. Now, of course, everyone is complaining that the pendulum has swung in the opposite direction - too much sex, too much violence, too much reality. Still, I wonder if there is such a thing as a happy medium that will content everyone, I doubt it. But the fact remains that this notion - tidiness - has imprinted itself on a lot of people.

[snipped]

God knows, these midnight urges just cone over me. Why did I write it? Becoz it worked. It was certainly a different Joanna story, it poked and prodded and rendered and tore and questioned - it forced survival.

IDOLS was an almost instant follow-up, altho separately each of those chapters wore something like three months in the making, not counting rewrite and check-with-Cheryl time. Yes, I know, the girl in EACH didn't have to be Joanna, I just wanted her to be. It made IDOLS work better. The Joanna incident is also a rather significant part of the mystery part of the series you might bear that in mind if you're following along. Both stories exposed a considerable amount of Chantal's character, the good, the bad, and the ugly.

Whether or not the subject matter is offensive I feel is also subjective, seeing as how we've been exposed in Treklit to an array of "offensations” including torture and mutilation and, to some, homosexuality, and, to some, just plain sex. We do have some interesting cultural programming. However, we also have some very open-minded people in fandom who are interested in exploring a wide range of possibilities - and for them, those who would like more than the banal and mundane, I am truly thankful.

Art by Gee Moaven

From Alpha Continuum #2.

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  inside issue #2, illo by Gee Moaven, portrays Chantal Caberfae

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  inside issue #2, illo by Gee Moaven, portrays Chantal Caberfae and someone else

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  inside issue #2, illo by Gee Moaven, portrays Joanna McCoy

Excerpts

McCoy awoke, carefully trying to not disturb the sleeping girl next to him. He stretched, somewhat gingerly, noting that though his head ached slightly and his back even more, he felt surprisingly well. He took a deep breath, savoring the scents of incense, musk, and girl's perfume, and exhaled almost luxuriously, turning to look at her. He couldn't see her face, she was turned away from him, the coverlet pulled closely about her shoulders so only her platinum hair could be seen, and she seemed to be sleeping soundly.

It had been nice, he thought, that was really the exact word for it. He liked her, which was always a prerequisite to him, liking the girl. He liked to buy her a drink or two and talk for awhile, about nothing in particular, mostly just to listen to her. If things seemed to be in his favor he asked, agreed to the price, and went with her. This one was in more of a hurry than he fancied, but there was something exceptionally appealing about her even if her enthusiasm surprised him. The younger ones in the trade ordinarily seemed to gravitate toward younger men, no doubt because often enough they had to accomodate older, less attractive ones. But not this one; of the group with Chantal she approached him immediately, smiling and flirting in an almost adolescent way he was surprised he liked. Cautious not to wake her, he left the bed and began to dress. He hated goodbyes of any ilk, but especially to women, and decided to leave while she was still sleeping. Walking toward the night-stand, he counted out the money he wanted to leave her, decided to double it, and put in on the tabletop.

"Thank you," he began to whisper softly, and suddenly he realized he didn't know her name. Considering how much he enjoyed her services that somehow seemed unforgiveable. He decided to wake her, and if she was the way he remembered her to be, perhaps it wouldn't be goodbye after all.

He drew the blanket down to her shoulders and was mildly startled by the childlike innocence her face held in its sleeping repose, even through the excessive make-up she wore. He immediately regretted his decision to wake her. Women who sold their bodies distressed him, and this was going to bother him, too. Why would anyone so young ...? He told himself he was having culturally programmed reactions to the situation but he couldn't help himself. He touched her bare shoulder and shook her gently, then waited ... she didn't stir. He shook her again, more firmly this time, but still she didn't respond. He turned her on her back, still without her becoming conscious, and something snapped in his brain. He immediately checked her pulse and her pupils, trying to ignore the sensation of shock that was creeping through him. Automatically he drew his communicator and signaled the ship.

"Uhura here."

"This is Doctor McCoy. Beam an emergency medical team to my coordinates immediately, and have them bring a resusscitator and a stomach pump. Have you got the coordinates?"

"Yes, Doctor, but ..."

"On the double, Lieutenant. There's been an attempted suicide and ..."

[Chantal Caberfae] shook her head, then casually brushed a strand of shimmering hair behind her left ear. "No, I personally don't think so. I have reviewed his profiles, those the computer would give me access to. Not that what they said would have been totality enough for me to base such an opinion. Geraldo's medical reports have backed up my summation, though. She hasn't been harmed in any way, there is no evidence of any violence beyond ..." She stopped abruptly.

"Violence beyond what, Lieutenant?"

She sighed obviously. "Dr. Geraldo's medical report states that she does show evidence of having partaken in lengthly and somewhat ... vigorous ... sexual intercourse. Since all the ... signs ... are recent, we have to assume they were perpetrated by McCoy."

Kirk shrugged, feeling uncomfortable before this ice blonde who was yet a stranger to him as well as everyone else on board and sitting there arbitrarily discussing his friend's sexual proclivities.

Whatever happened that night with Jory Demuth, the memory was eating this man alive.

"She was so beautiful," McCoy murmured, "so young ..."

"She's all right, Bones, she's in Sickbay right now." lie was saddened to see McCoy reach for the near-empty decanter on thn table and wondered what he could sny to stop him. "In fact, she wants to see you."

The glass fell from McCoy's hand and his body shuddered. "Oh dear Cod" escaped from his lips.

Kirk bypassed the luxury of wondering what he said wrong. "Bones, what happened? You con tell me ... whatever it is ..." His hand rested firmly on the man's arm.

Slowly McCoy again shook his head. "Not now, Jim. I can't. Not now."

"All right, but at least come back to the ship. We can talk Inter, whenever you like, just come back with me," Kirk knew he had to bring him back, he couldn't chance his disappearing again. The man's condition frankly frightened him. Though he may have been drinking a long while. Kirk could see he was sober and that the anguish was coming from within.

"No, Doctor, I don't understand. Perhaps you can tell me. Why do you care," she could no longer resist asking him, "what happens to a prostitute who tried to kill herself in your bed?"

He walked back to the desk and resting his hands on it, seemed to lean for support. He looked at Chantal for what seemed like a very long time and tears welled in his eyes. "Because she's my daughter," he said, choking on the words. "She's my Joanna."

Chantal realized that whatever she said now would determine whether or not he would continue, and her curiosity was peaked beyond the point where she needed the information for her job. She crossed the room and solicitously put her arm about his shoulders as she helped him sit down.

"I didn't know it was her, I swear I didn't. I know how ridiculous that sounds, but I didn't. I haven't seen her in years, she lived with her mother after the divorce, then she went to nursing school. The last I heard was that she was assigned to work on Cygnet IX and I haven't heard anything since then. I didn't know it was her." The words wer flowing freely, like a fountain from a pool. "Jim and I were in a tavern, you were there, you were with her. Did you know her?" He didn't wait for an answer. "We were drinking ... I won't say I was drunk, I wasn't. I saw her with you and your friends across the room and I liked the way she looked, that's why I came to your table. I don't know what attracted me to her, she was as garish and gaudy as the other ones, but she was so young. You saw her, she flattered me outrageously. What man wouldn't have been attracted to a pretty little blonde who came on to him?"

He stepped aside, the door slid open, and she entered, hearing it close behind her. The tableau she faced stunned her. She looked across the outer office into the ward. McCoy was seated in a chair, his head in his hands. Kirk stood behind him, a hand on the Doctor's shoulder. Dr. Geraldo stood next to them, talking to Kirk. In the bed where she had last seen Joanna McCoy, a figure was covered with a sheet. Forcing all emotion from her mind, she approached them, but Kirk saw her and met her halfway. She didn't like the look on his face, not a bit.

"The girl is dead," he told her. "Evidentally she ransacked the place until she found something sharp enough to slash her wrists. Geraldo says he gave her a sedative, but she either didn't take it or it wasn't strong enough for the state she was in." His breath seemed to come in short spurts and his face was flushed. "I brought McCoy here to tell hia and he is so emotionally upset that now Geraldo's sedating him. Lieutenant, I've got a dead civilian aboard, a covered up scandal on the surface, and a chief medical officer who appears to be at the brink of his sanity. What the devil is going on? You promised me some answers and I want them now. Why is McCoy reacting this way? What was that girl to him? Why did she kill herself on my ship?"

It's a pattern in my life, Chantal reflected as she looked ahead into the ward. Fate wreaks havoc as it wills and I'm required to put the pieces back together to everyone's satisfaction. Her eyes turned to Kirk who was bordering on livid. She realised that if she was capable of fearing any man, it would be him. She empathized greatly with his frustration. "Her name wasn't Dcmuth," she said quietly, "it was McCoy. That is ... was ... his daughter, Joanna."

Kirk felt as though he'd received a physical blow. "You're not serious."

She nodded.

"She can't be. Joanna's a nurse on some colony lightyears from here —"

"But when she needed him, he wasn't there. An absentee father is worse than none at all for a girl. So much of her outlook on life and her place in it lies balanced on her relationship with her father. It can affect one very deeply." The look on Kirk's face disturbed her for some reason she couldn't fathom. "You will forgive the speculation, sir," she added. "She wasn't rational, whatever the cause, and it would seem to be this was her final revenge on him." "To break two of the strongest taboos society has and let him live the rest of his life knowing he was the cause of it all?" He turned toward the ward and saw Geraldo leading McCoy to a bed. "It would have been better for him if she had merely killed him."

"The dead don't suffer," Chantal said quietly before she realized she had spoken aloud.

Kirk looked at her, despairing of ever understanding her. He hail the distinct impression she was speaking not from book-learning but from her own experiences, and he knew he couldn't ask her. Suddenly he fa.lt the completely mad urge to take her in his arms, as though she needed consoling like a frightened child, as though she was seeing herself or some part of herself in Joanna. Then he realized she saw him staring.

"Is that how your log stands?" he asked finally, feeling completely drained.

"Yes, sir. I would like to leave McCoy out entirely, but eventually, when all the data is cross-referenced, the omission would be unexplainable. I have, however, simply stated that Miss McCoy, alias Demuth, being in an advancedly disturbed state due to emotional problems, made two attempts on her life, the second being successful. I have deleted the references to the other incidents on the surface, there was no point to mentioning them. He will have enough to live with the rest of his life. I will stand by the entry, sir."

Reactions and Reviews: "To Each His Own"

1977

You may do what you wish with [this] letter I sent. I haven't the time to write another. By the way, I found the two stories printed in ALPHA CONTINUUM #2 by you and Cheryl very revolting and violating all standards of good taste. I cannot understand what possessed the two of you to write such trash.

Strange things are going on in the sub-world of 'Adult Trekfic.' It seems that one of the stories in the Diamonds and Rust series has a rather unusual plot device: Dr. McCoy goes to bed with an aggressive young woman who (surprise!) turns out to be his daughter, Joanna. Through a series of credibility-stretching writing tricks, no one knows who the other one is until the fun is over. (No, I don't know the name of the story, or where it was published.) [the incest story this fan refers to is in also in Alpha Continuum #2, and a set of two stories, "To Each His Own" and "Idols I Have Loved."] The results are what you might expect: Joanna kills herself, and Dr. M is 'shattered' (not necessarily in that order.) But what really makes this interesting is from where the heaviest negative comments are coming from: some of the well-known fen who applaud the Kirk-and-Spock-go-gay trash. Frankly, I'm surprised at the reactions I've been hearing about this stuff. After all, the rushing about to jump on the Homosexuality-in-Trekfic bandwagon, I thought it would take nothing less than Captain Kirk going to bed with a Great Dane to get a rise out of people. And, disturbingly, they are not just going after the story, but doing a hatchet job on the author as well. I heard she is being called things in print that aren't even used on crooked convention organizers. Bad scene.

The theme of this [Alpha Continuum] is 'Wonderland,' whatever that means.... The bulk of the zine, and the only substantial fiction, are two more chapters of Diamonds and Rust, 'To Each His Own' and 'Idols I Have Loved.' In them, a really unfortunate incident occurs between McCoy and his daughter, Joanna, which is elusively tied into the mysterious goings-on that Chantal is involved with. These chapters, like the others that have appeared elsewhere, suffer from two flaws that make them difficult for me to enjoy: a plot-pacing that would barely do credit to a crippled amoeba; and, the inescapable fact that these are, chapters to a longer story and do not stand up well on their own. The story ideas are, at least from what we can see of them so far, sophisticated, and the writing is competent. I tend to think that D&R Collected, to be published later this year, will be the best way to enjoy the series.

2000s

Wow. I don’t quite know what to think of these [Diamonds and Rust stories]. On one hand they are annoying [Mary Sue]] tales. On the other... well, this one is worth the read for the shock value alone. The story-telling is suspenseful and compelling, and the writing good when not dwelling on the perfections and wardrobe of heroine super-spy Chantal Caberfae. In this installment: shore leave on Yemen, in the Argellius system, turns into a truly hideous nightmare for McCoy when a pleasant dalliance turns to incest, suicide and total breakdown. Chantal, having pushed Joanna McCoy to suicide while relentlessly pursuing her Target, struggles with unfamiliar affection for McCoy and resolves to try to repair what damage she can.