DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters
are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc and
Viacom. The story contents are the creation and property of Djinn and are
copyright (c) 2013 by Djinn. This story is Rated R.
All Dressed Up
and Nowhere to Go
by Djinn
ÒAre
you kidding me?Ó Kirk shook the
bars on the cell. ÒHow many goddamn
alien zoos can there be in one quadrant?Ó
ÒI
think the question may be more how many can you find yourself in,Ó Chapel said
under her breath, but he heard her and glared at her. ÒShutting up now.Ó
She
checked out the cell—calling it that was really upgrading it. It was more a hole dug into a dirt wall
with bars and a door. There was
nowhere to sit, to lie down, to relieve oneself. And no evidence that anyone had been
there before. So either they had
bang-up cleaners or this was a holding location and short term.
ÒZookeeper,
get the hell back here. I want to
talk terms.Ó
ÒThere
are no terms,Ó came booming over a loudspeaker. ÒWe are short on humans. Your species always proves
diverting. Resign yourself to your
fate.Ó
She
crossed her arms over her chest and waited for what she expected would be a
doozy of a speech. Kirk didnÕt
disappoint. It was all about free
will, human spirit, and the need to make choices for oneself.
ÒIs
this your way of saying you are not attracted to the female? Because we can remove her.Ó
He
closed his eyes. ÒNo, thatÕs not
what I was saying.Ó He glanced back
at her. ÒIÕm not saying I am,
Doctor, just so weÕre clear. But we
need to stay together.Ó
She
nodded. ÒOf course, sir.Ó SheÕd be offended if sheÕd ever thought
of him as a possible mate, but heÕd always been the guy Spock would rather hang
around with than her. But also a
man whoÕd treated her well, so she wasnÕt particularly sorry to be stuck with
him, and Lord knew he had a great record of escaping these kinds of
scenarios. She could do worse.
There
was a hum of a transporter and suddenly they were standing in a much bigger
enclosure, which was nice. The not
so nice part was that they were standing in it buck naked.
She
tried to keep her eyes up, which only let her see that the man had clearly hit
the gym while he had been tied to a desk job on Earth. He had an easier time covering his
naughty bits than she did—she really needed an extra arm or two, her
boobs were not what youÕd call small.
Even
though Kirk was making a valiant attempt to keep his eyes on her face, she
thought he was fully aware of just how not small her chest was.
ÒHumans
do not run around naked,Ó Kirk
yelled, turning away from her and giving her the most amazing view of his
backside. ÒYour exhibit is flawed.Ó
She
forced herself to look at the ground.
And not peek. Okay, she
peeked once. But
nothing after that.
ÒThere
is clothing in the structure. You
should find it...interesting. The
structure will change to fit your choice.Ó
ÒThatÕs
great.Ó He turned and stalked to
the structure. ÒCome on, Doctor.Ó
She
followed him, trying her hardest not to look up, but she had to as she crossed
the threshold.
Holy
God, the manÕs ass gave new meaning to the word firm. How much working out did it take to get
that buff?
He
stopped in front of what would have been a closet if it had held clothes and
been more than a slight cut out into the wall. Instead of garments, images of Earth
garb of various eras were stacked from floor to ceiling.
ÒI
guess we choose one?Ó He was
studying the various images. ÒSome
of these look too complicated to get into without a gaggle of assistants.Ó
ÒIs
that what a group of those is called?Ó
She moved closer, was suddenly aware of how much warmth he was throwing
off. ÒDo these clothes
have...backstory?Ó To the side of
the image was a short write-up about who would wear them, and how the man and
woman were involved. ÒWife,
mistress, sister-in-law, daughter-in-law—are they serious? This is like the porn channel.Ó
He
shot her a look.
ÒNot
that I have any idea what plays on the porn channel.Ó She pointed to one that said ÒEstranged lovers reunitedÓ and had relatively familiar
clothing from the last century.
ÒCan we please get dressed?Ó
ÒFine.Ó He touched the image and nothing
happened. ÒI imagine they want this
to be a mutual choice.Ó
She
reached up, touched the image, and was overcome with a wave of dizziness as the
structure transformed around them. She
felt as if her own personality was being pushed back—still present but no
longer in control. Her last
dominant thought before someone named Lyra took over
was that at least she wasnÕt naked anymore.
And
neither was Kirk. Or Johan. Chapel tried desperately to hold on to
what she knew, found that if she didnÕt fight Lyra,
she could stop the process of being pushed entirely into unconsciousness. She thought Kirk was doing the same, saw
Johan close his eyes for a moment, then he smiled and
said, ÒLyra,Ó and looked at her in a way Kirk never had. ÒMy God, IÕve missed you.Ó
Their
clothing stayed on a hot minute.
He
had her on the bed, murmuring things about other men and other women and while Lyra understood, Chapel knew that it was all so much
romance novel.
What
wasnÕt made up was the fact that she was screwing the daylights out of her
commanding officer—or was he screwing the daylights out of her? And by the light in JohanÕs eyes, she thought
Kirk had found the same way she had to stay for the ride.
As
Lyra and Johan pledged their undying love—until
the next breakup: they seemed both immature and intensely volatile—and
had sex over and over, Chapel found herself getting to know KirkÕs body in a
way sheÕd never expected to. She
wondered how much of the wonderful way Johan touched Lyra
was really the famous James T. Kirk touch and how much was backstory.
She
supposed, unless they wanted to remain naked—and after this, Kirk might
choose that for them—sheÕd find out.
##
What
seemed like hours later, Chapel woke up in KirkÕs arms, naked, on a metal bed
with only a mattress that before had been Lyra and
JohanÕs very comfortable and soft reunion bed, all silk and satin.
Kirk
pulled her to him and then seemed to realize what heÕd done, coming fully awake
with a start and nearly pushing her off the bed.
ÒHey! Innocent bystander here.Ó She rolled away from him, desperately
wishing for a sheet to cover herself with.
ÒIÕm
sorry, Chapel.Ó
ÒYour
first scenario was entertaining.Ó
The alien voice booming over the loudspeaker was deeply pleased.
ÒFirst
and last,Ó Kirk said.
SheÕd
been right about the going naked option.
She took a deep breath, tried to embrace her inner nudist.
ÒNoble
choice, Captain. Will you continue
to choose it after this?Ó
Chapel
felt as if sheÕd touched a live circuit.
Pain shot through her body and she tried to bite back the scream that
erupted from her and failed. She
knew she was convulsing, felt herself blacking
out—and then the pain got worse and her scream changed into something not
quite human.
ÒStop
it. Stop it, damn it.Ó
The
pain was gone, but she could barely see, lay trembling, murmuring, ÒIÕm sorry,
sir. IÕm so sorry.Ó
ÒIn
a species that registers so highly in empathy, a companion is often a
liability, Captain Kirk. Especially
when you have spent the last few hours making love to her—even if it was
not you in charge of that activity, still...you felt something, did you not?Ó
ÒWe
are crewmates. ThatÕs all.Ó He touched her arm. ÒAre you all right?Ó
ÒNo. But I will be in a few minutes.Ó
ÒShe
is underestimating her recovery time for your benefit, Captain. We hurt her quite badly, and we will do
it again if you refuse to comply with our orders. You have two hours before you must
choose another scenario.Ó A clock
appeared on the wall of the structure, counting down their time.
ÒIÕm
so sorry,Ó she whispered. ÒIt was
that last scream, wasnÕt it?Ó
ÒYes.Ó He sighed and stretched out next to her,
as if heÕd given up on trying to hide the fact that they were naked. ÒWere you in Lyra? Or were you pushed out? I felt as if I was being pushed out, but
then I managed to hold on.Ó
ÒMe,
too. But not enough to control
her.Ó
He
nodded. ÒWe should work on
that. Controlling. TheyÕre our bodies, after all.
Who better to control them?Ó
He grinned at her and she felt herself responding despite the unpleasant
tingling left over from the alienÕs pain session. ÒI guess weÕre going to get to know each
other a lot better, Doctor.Ó
ÒI
guess so.Ó She leaned in,
whispered, ÒHow will we know if weÕre in control?Ó
He
thought about that, started to blush, and she knew she was blushing, too.
ÒGot
to the same place I did, huh?Ó She
looked down. ÒIf itÕs unpleasant—the
idea of having sex with me outside of the scenarios...Ó
ÒItÕs
not.Ó He sighed. ÒAfter this next scenario we can start
setting our normal Ôin controlÕ baseline.
For now you need to rest.Ó
He leaned in and kissed her gently, his lips so tender on hers he left
her a bit shaken. ÒFor the record,
thatÕs my baseline for ÔIÕm sorry they hurt you to make me mind.ÕÓ
ÒI
like the kiss a lot. Not the reason
for it. Do you use that kiss for
anything else?Ó She smiled, trying
to make it an easy joke between them, but she had a feeling her voice was more
hopeful than it should be.
ÒI
do.Ó
She
pulled him back, kissed him as softly as she could, felt him push back, then
open his mouth slightly. They
pulled away, and she said, ÒThatÕs my ÔItÕs okay that they hurt me to make you
mind since you were rebelling for a good causeÕ kiss.Ó She closed her eyes for a moment.
ÒSleep
while you can, Chris.Ó
She
rolled so she was nestled against him, and he wrapped his arms around her. She was gone in moments.
##
Kirk
woke her when the clock was on its last minute, had her out of bed and walking
bleary eyed to the wall of images.
He murmured, ÒThis one, I think,Ó and put his hand on an agrarian couple
from the Tigris-Euphrates valley.
Married, one child, no drama from the look of it.
She
put her hand on it and the structure changed to a small sun-dried brick house
with one room. Screens separated
their son, Dag, and his sleeping area from the main room. Their bed was on the far side of the space,
more screens giving them privacy.
She
was Ena; he was Bar. They lay in bed, talking about the
crops, the fine wheat they were growing, what they would buy with the
profits. Chapel felt more in
control in this quiet companionship than she had with Lyra
and JohanÕs passion. She tried to
take more control, tried to make Ena scratch her nose
or change position.
Tried
and failed.
In
his corner, Dag coughed, then called out for Ena. She rose, giving Bar a fond kiss, and
Chapel tried to see Kirk inside BarÕs gentle smile. She walked the short distance to their
son, found him sweating and burning up and called out for Bar in a panic.
The
summer fever had found them.
EnaÕs panic for her son, the deep love she had for him, began to
push Chapel out, but then the boy cried out in pain and started to choke, and
Chapel found herself surging forward, easing the child into an upright
position, helping him clear his throat, but then Ena
took over again, telling Bar to boil water and make some of the tea the
herbalist had left the last time one of them had the stinging sickness.
Chapel
didnÕt know how the scenario was supposed to end, but she didnÕt think the
aliens had expected to have a doctor in the mix. Unless they adjusted the scenarios based
on who they captured?
She
had to hope not.
Bar
brought the tea and Ena let it cool, then made Dag
choke it down—it smelled horrible, probably tasted even worse. She piled the pillows high, and she and Bar sat with Dag, telling him stories of the wheat and how
high it was growing until he fell asleep.
Over
the next day and night, Ena and Bar forced more tea
down their little boy and told him story upon story—as the boy finally
made a turn toward health.
Bar
was bone tired when he went out to the fields, but the wheat was calling, left
alone for so long. Ena called him to evening meal, but he did not answer. She found him later in the far corner of
the fields, slipped on a rock, cut on his own sickle, the blade slicing his
femoral artery. She knew he would have
bled out in seconds.
Leaving
her alone. With
his son, too young to work the wheat. All alone.
##
The
fields faded around them, the structure coming back into place. Kirk got up from the ground, and Chapel
turned and walked away, trying to stop the vicious trembling that had come on
when she found his body. It wasnÕt
real—none of this was real.
He
caught up with her in three strides, pulled her to him and held her. ÒItÕs all right.Ó
She
tried to push him away. ÒI know
itÕs all right. ItÕs not real. That little boy wasnÕt my son. You werenÕt my husband. I wasnÕt going to starve to
death—or worse.Ó She turned
and nearly spat at him. ÒWhy did
you go into the fields when you were that tired? You could have waited.Ó
ÒI
should have. Should have
waited.Ó
She
suddenly realized he was trembling, too.
ÒOh my God. You were with
him. IÕm so sorry. IÕm only thinking of me, and you had to
be inside of him when he died and then just wait?Ó
ÒYes.Ó
ÒIÕm
so sorry.Ó She kissed him gently,
and he pulled her closer, wrapped his arms around her.
They
were as close as they could get, naked again, and she felt him stirring against
her as he held her. She ran her
hands under his hair, aiming for comfort more than seduction, but not minding
that the caress got a reaction out of him, that he moaned and rested his head
on her shoulder and kissed her neck.
She
ground lightly against him, and he groaned, then he sank down to the grass,
bringing her with him. She ended
straddling him, sinking onto him, moaning as she did.
ÒChris,Ó
he said, as he pulled her down for a kiss, his mouth opening. She felt the kiss down to her toes.
They
went slowly, the sex one of excruciating control. ÒThis is how we know,Ó he murmured in
her ear.
ÒYes,
sir.Ó
ÒIÕm
inside you, Chris. ItÕs required
you call me Jim at this point.Ó
She
laughed. ÒJim.Ó
ÒThis
is how we know. Saying
that—itÕs how we know, too.Ó
She
nodded but found words difficult since he had reached down, was helping her
along in ways beyond generous. She
whispered before it was too late, ÒDo you want me to be quiet when I come?Ó
ÒNo. Not like they arenÕt watching us. Be as loud as you want.Ó He seemed to work even harder on her as
he kept his own pace unhurried, clearly trying to draw it out, keep control of
something in this place.
She
came very loudly. He seemed to love
it. He kept moving, his pace still
slow and made her come again before he let himself finally go, creating a bit
of a racket himself and digging his fingers into her back so hard she thought
sheÕd have bruises, before he collapsed against her.
ÒThis
is how we know,Ó she whispered.
He
nodded, his head against her chest.
##
Food
appeared next to where they lay on the grass. A picnic that she
unpacked and laid out as if they were on a proper date. It was a little odd eating a picnic
lunch naked, but having sex took some of the awkward out of that. Neither of them seemed to care about
hiding their private parts anymore.
After
they ate, he stretched out, his head on her lap. ÒThis okay?Ó
ÒIt
is.Ó She played with his hair,
smiled when he moaned a little. ÒI
love this. My aunt used to play
with my hair when I was a kid. Would
shut me up on long flitter rides.Ó
He
laughed. ÒYou have great hands.Ó
ÒI
could say the same of you.Ó
He
laughed again. ÒWell, youÕre
extremely responsive. That
helps.Ó He shook his head. ÒWe should not be having this
conversation.Ó
ÒWhy? Because youÕre my boss?Ó
He
nodded.
She
chuckled, tried to bite it back.
ÒYou realize I donÕt have a lot of boundaries in that area? Roger was my teacher then my boss when I
was his graduate assistant.Ó
ÒI
know. But I do have boundaries.Ó
ÒWell,
maybe you should start easing up on them? Maybe youÕd be happier.Ó She went back to playing with his
hair. ÒThink of the mission as one
very long flitter ride.Ó
He
grinned. ÒAh, so you mean with
you?Ó
ÒNo,
I mean with every other woman but me.Ó
She let her hands slow.
ÒActually, IÕm not sure what I mean. See, I do this. I rush into things.Ó
ÒWell,
itÕs not as if we just met.Ó He
reached up, touched her hands. ÒWho
said to stop that?Ó
She
smiled, went back to the hair playing.
ÒBut the sex is new and IÕm already making plans for us. When there is
no us.Ó
ÒIf
the sex we just had is any indication, I wouldnÕt be opposed to an us.Ó He smiled gently. ÒYouÕre pretty much my type, you
know. I like scientists.Ó
ÒYou
do, donÕt you?Ó
ÒYep. That and naughty librarians.Ó
ÒI
think thatÕs an archetype, not an actual occupation.Ó
ÒAh. My mistake.Ó He closed his eyes. ÒDonÕt stop doing that and IÕll
seriously consider your proposal.Ó
ÒForget
I said it, all right?Ó
ÒItÕs
out there. I may ignore it later,
but I wonÕt forget it, Chris.Ó He
drifted off as she continued the head massage and hair play, and she frowned,
unsure why sheÕd moved so fast—why she always had to.
Prior
to being stuck with him here, sheÕd never considered him as someone to become
romantically entangled with. Now
she suddenly wanted to make him break all his rules? Rules he hadnÕt been willing to break for
Janice or Ny or any other of the many beautiful women on the crew?
What
the hell was wrong with her? And
why wasnÕt he more upset with her?
##
ÒYour
rest time is over. Choose another
scenario,Ó the alien voice said over the loudspeaker.
Chapel
walked to the wall, found a mistress in Tudor England and said, ÒThis one. We should get this out of the way
now.Ó
Jim
frowned but said, ÒAll right,Ó and settled his hand next to hers on the image.
The
structure gave way to a large house.
Tapestries covered the wall. Chapel was dressed in a lovely burgundy
dress with slashed sleeves through which silver showed. Jim was dressed in a black and silver
jacket with matching doublet and black hose, his hat decorated with a white
feather.
Her
name was Katherine but this man, Edward, called her Kat. She had come to his house to keep her cousin,
his wife, company. She found her cousin boring.
So
did Edward.
They could not say the same about each other. For months they had been circling one
another. She had amassed a sizeable
number of admirers, even some suitors, despite her lack of a fortune or
title. Many of the young men were
apparently hoping Edward, who was very rich, would provide a dowry of some
sort.
Chapel
felt herself settling into this scenario as if she was
home, wished it werenÕt so. She
didnÕt have to fight to not be pushed away—it was as if she and Kat were
the same person.
ÒA
walk, Kat?Ó Edward held out his arm
and she took it. ÒHave you decided
on a young man, yet?Ó
ÒBoth
Robert Norris and Mark Cameron interest me.Ó
He
waved as if a bad smell were in the air.
ÒNeither is good enough for you.Ó
She
noticed he was leading them to the part of the house that was being
renovated. The workers were all off
today, celebrating at the local fair.
She had thought perhaps to go to that later, see which of her young men
might be there, might be tempted to buy her pretty things.
ÒSir
Edward, is this proper? This area
of the house is quite deserted.Ó
ÒIÕm
tired of this game, Kat. ArenÕt you?Ó He took her hand, hurried along, not
waiting for her answer.
But then she didnÕt need to give him one.
He knew her too well. When
he finally stopped, they were deep into the torn-apart wing and he pulled her
to him and kissed her.
His
kisses were nothing like the tentative pecks of her callow boy suitors. His arms around her were strong, his
lips assured. He was master of the
place and she loved that. She
wanted that.
She
craved that.
He
began to undo her clothing—thank God he had a wife so he understood how
to disassemble the complicated fastenings—and she stood naked before
him. ÒYou are mine, Kat. No matter what happens. No matter who I may allow to marry
you. You will always be mine, do
you understand?Ó
She
nodded. ÒI am yours.Ó She eased off his jacket, but was unsure
how to undo his doublet. ÒIÕve
never...Ó
Chapel
almost laughed at the idea of her being a virgin. But once Edward had shown her how to
unfasten his clothing, once he had her up against the wall, was easing into
her, she actually felt like a virgin again, and marveled that the aliens could
do that.
ÒYou
will take care of me?Ó she asked.
ÒAlways. You are mine.Ó
##
This
time the scenario faded around them as they were making love on the floor,
their third time having sex—pushing their luck but they could not get
enough of each other. He was
thrusting hard, saying, ÒYouÕre mine, Kat, mine,Ó when the trappings of England
fell away and they were back in the structure, and instead of pulling away, Jim
finished her off, thrusting just as hard but not saying anything until he cried
out.
He
rolled off her, stared up at the ceiling.
ÒWhy did you choose that one?
You said we should get it out of the way now. Why?Ó
ÒThere
are things you need to know about me.Ó
She lay as heÕd left her, didnÕt try to snuggle up to him. ÒRoger wasnÕt merely my boss. It wasnÕt the simple clichŽ of younger
woman older man.Ó She looked over
to see his reaction.
He
didnÕt glance over. ÒNo?Ó
ÒHe
was married to someone. A term
marriage but still.Ó
ÒTerm
marriages donÕt mean much.Ó His
voice was incredibly bitter and she wondered what he was talking about,
resolved to ask him later but for now, she needed to forge on.
ÒMaybe
not, but for his wife they did. He
was the one who insisted on it being term.Ó
ÒAh.Ó
ÒYeah.Ó She took a deep breath. ÒI stole him, Jim. I slept with him when he was married. I studied everything about him, morphed
myself into something he would want, and stole him.Ó
ÒBut
you must have loved him? You gave
up your career for him, looked for him until you found him.Ó
ÒI
did love him. I went to too much
work to get him not to.Ó
She
saw him frown. The statement was true,
though. She wasnÕt going to take it
back.
ÒAnd
Spock?Ó
ÒIÕm
not sure what Spock was. A powerful man, definitely, but an aberration. Not one I could...Ó
ÒPlay?Ó
ÒSuch
a horrible word.Ó
ÒPossibly
apt. Answer me this. You and Decker. Were you sleeping with him?Ó
She
took a deep breath. ÒYes.Ó
He
closed his eyes. ÒI didnÕt want to
believe it. I didnÕt believe
it.Ó He sat up. ÒI goddamn defended you.Ó
ÒTo
whom.Ó
ÒTo
the board. When they questioned his
insistence on having you. I said
you wouldnÕt do that. What a
fucking idiot. Of course you
would.Ó
She
looked down. ÒOf course I
would. I like powerful men, Jim.Ó
ÒSo
do a lot of women. ItÕs that you
like to fuck powerful men that bothers me.
And now you want me? Do you even see the person? Or am I just the commanding
officer? The rank and the power?Ó
ÒThatÕs
not fair. I didnÕt have to tell you
about Roger. I could have lied
about Will—no one is left to tell the truth but me.Ó
He
laughed, but it was a bitter sound.
ÒBut you know what I want.
ThatÕs whatÕs makes you so good at this. You know IÕd want the truth, that IÕd
place a premium on that. That I
might forgive anything if it was bathed in honesty.Ó
She
shook her head. ÒIÕm telling you
the truth because that last scenario was the old me. I donÕt want to be that person. I can change.Ó
ÒYes,
because itÕs been all of two months since your lover threw you over for a
machine...again.Ó
She
tried to laugh, but the sound that came out was more wounded animal. She scrambled to her feet.
ÒChris,
IÕm sorry. I went too far.Ó
ÒNo,
that was the damn truth. IÕm going
outside. CanÕt go far obviously,
but I need to get away from you. From us. From me. From everything.
For the next scenario, why donÕt you pick one where you get to hurt me? An abusive spouse, maybe. Will do you good to get to work out this
frustration.Ó
ÒI
donÕt want to hurt you.Ó
ÒWell,
you just did.Ó She turned and
walked out of the shelter.
##
He
found her at the far side of the enclosure, and she wondered if he expected her
to be crying. If so, he was going
to be disappointed.
ÒHere,Ó
he said, handing her an ice cream cone.
ÒOur captors get whimsical at weird times.Ó
ÒAre
you kidding me?Ó
ÒJust
eat the damn cone.Ó He took a bite
of his. ÒSo, let me share some of
my own truths. So weÕre even.Ó
ÒYou
donÕt have to.Ó
ÒNo,
I think I do. ItÕs not fair to have
such an imbalance.Ó He sat down
across from her. ÒI was married
while I was on Earth. Before I
stole the ship from your lover and demoted you.Ó
ÒTerm
marriage?Ó
ÒHowÕd
you guess?Ó
ÒThe
bitterness in your voice when you spoke of them.Ó
ÒYeah. That.Ó He sighed. ÒShe was an admiral. Not a star fucker like you.Ó
She
considered slamming her cone in his face, decided it
tasted too good and said, ÒAsshole.Ó
ÒProbably. Anyway, I was happy for a while. I kind of liked being an admiral. Being important. Making big decisions.Ó
ÒBut
not being in space. I canÕt see you
at a desk.Ó
ÒThat
became a problem. But only once I
found out she didnÕt consider marriage an exclusive type arrangement.Ó
ÒOuch.Ó
ÒYeah. You do, right? For all you chase down these powerful
men—once you have them, youÕre faithful?Ó
She
considered. ÒIf you take that ill
advised crush on Spock out of the equation, then yes.Ó
ÒWe
can call him your freebie.Ó He
grinned at her. ÒTheoretical
freebie, not actual Ôyou can cheat with himÕ freebie.Ó
ÒDo
you care who I cheat with?Ó She
felt a little beat of hope in her chest.
ÒQuite
possibly.Ó He held up his
hand. ÒDo not say one goddamned
thing about that.Ó
She
kept her mouth shut.
ÒOnce
I realized my marriage was a sham, I also saw that my job was, too. Started drinking. A lot. Too much. I think I kept the antitox
companies in business. Should have
bought stock.Ó He looked down. ÒI was the worst possible version of
myself. If youÕd run into me then,
you would not have liked me. At
all.Ó
ÒIÕm
sorry.Ó She studied him. ÒYou must have loved her.Ó
ÒI
donÕt know if I did. I loved the
illusion, I think. The whole normal thing.
Wife, hearth, power. Safety.Ó
ÒWhen
have you ever wanted to be safe?Ó
ÒThereÕs
a part of me that does. Not a big
partÓ—he grinned, that megawatt smile—Òbut a part.Ó
ÒAnd
then VÕger came.Ó
ÒYeah. And then VÕger
came. Nothing was going to get in
my way, Chris. Not a damn thing.Ó
ÒI
understand. Will was crushed. You were his idol. Your recommendation meant everything to
him. He didnÕt understand how you
could pull the rug out from under him.Ó
ÒDid
you understand?Ó
ÒAbsolutely. But then women like me always
understand.Ó
ÒWere
you glad I was back?Ó
She
thought carefully about her answer.
ÒI felt for my lover—and I did love him, Jim. And it hurt me when he died. When Ilia showed up, I knew Will and I
were done. Anything I was to him
was so far behind what he felt for her.
But I missed him when he was gone.Ó
ÒIÕm
sorry.Ó
ÒBut...as
a commander, Will was inexperienced compared to you. I had no lustful feelings for you at the
time, but IÕd served under you and I knew if anyone could get us home safely,
it was you. I would never have told
Will this, but I heaved a huge sigh of relief when you
took the conn. And thatÕs the
truth, sir. Doctor to captain, not
woman to man.Ó
ÒThank
you, Doctor.Ó
She
nodded. ÒAre you still drinking too
much?Ó
ÒNo. The ship cures all.Ó
ÒExcept
loneliness.Ó
ÒExcept
that.Ó He took a deep breath. ÒYou know how to be discreet.Ó
ÒI
do.Ó
ÒItÕs
a point in your favor.Ó
ÒI
didnÕt know I was still under consideration after our last conversation. And you just called me a star fucker.Ó
ÒWell
the fact that you are one doesnÕt mean I donÕt want you.Ó
She
frowned.
ÒScrewed
up, isnÕt it?Ó
ÒVery. Not sure I like it.Ó
ÒJoin
the club, sister.Ó He went back to
his cone. ÒAt least the ice creamÕs
good.Ó
She
nodded. ÒSpock gonna
find us soon?Ó
ÒI
damn well hope so. I donÕt think I
can take many more of your truths.Ó
##
ÒIt
is time to choose another scenario,Ó the alien said, its voice not quite as
booming.
ÒWow,
even the alien is feeling sorry for us, I think.Ó Chapel sighed. ÒIÕm sorry, Jim.Ó
ÒDonÕt
be sorry. We are who we are. ItÕs not as if you told me youÕre a mass
murderer.Ó He shot her a tired
grin. ÒYouÕre not a mass murderer,
right?Ó
ÒIÕm
not.Ó
ÒYay.Ó He took her hand, squeezed it, then let it go.
ÒAre you going to forgive me if I pick this one?Ó
She
looked up to the one he was pointing at.
Gangster and his gun moll. ÒMissing Sigma Iotia
II? Or paying me back for liking
powerful men?Ó
ÒBoth?Ó
ÒGangsters
werenÕt always nice to their women, Jim.
Are you taking me up on my advice to get violent?Ó
He
looked dismayed, pulled his hand away.
ÒI didnÕt think of that. I
thought it might actually be fun.Ó
She
pushed his hand back, laid her own over his. ÒOkay.Ó
The
change happened before he could react.
She saw the concern in his eyes, knew that they might be in for trouble.
Her
name was Denise. He was Big
Mickey. They were not getting
along. Denise was sincerely
frightened of Mickey and that fear was pushing Chapel away, more than any other
scenario had.
She
wondered if MickeyÕs anger was pushing Jim away—or would it draw him in
more. And would that mean heÕd be
able to mitigate the anger...or embrace it?
Mickey
grabbed her, his fingers closing painfully over her wrist. ÒDenise, where the hell were you this
morning? Danny said you snuck out.Ó
ÒI
had to go see my mom. SheÕs
sick. I told you that.Ó
Chapel
nearly lost her hold in the rush of pure panic: Denise hadnÕt been with her mom, sheÕd been with the Feds. She was turning on Mickey, getting him
before he could get her.
ÒYeah,
I had a good talk with your mom.
She says sheÕs the picture of health. So why donÕt you tell me again where you
were.Ó He grabbed her hair, forced
her to her knees in front of him.
She felt as if her wrist was breaking, he had it twisted at such an
extreme angle.
ÒMickey,
IÕd never lie to you. Not unless it were for something good, you know that,
sweetie.Ó She put her best smile
on. ÒYour birthdayÕs coming
up. A girlÕs gotta
shop.Ó
ÒWhatÕd
you get me, then?Ó
ÒNothing
yet. HavenÕt found the right
thing.Ó Denise was thinking the
right thing would be the electric chair.
Chapel
tried to inject a sense of reason into the woman. If she wasnÕt
careful, sheÕd look like she was gloating, like she had a secret.
Chapel
saw MickeyÕs expression get harder, not softer. She knew she was too late.
ÒYou
think youÕre so smart.Ó He twisted
hard and Chapel felt her wrist go.
She
screamed and he had her over his lap, twisting her wrist harder as tears
streamed down her face.
ÒWho are you working with?Ó
ÒNobody,
Mickey. I love you.Ó
ÒI
will break every bone in your body until you tell me. And then I will kill you. Or I can kill you right now and save me
a lot of trouble and you a lot of pain.
Which is it, Denise?Ó
ÒI
ainÕt working with nobody.Ó
He
bent her little finger back.
ÒReally?Ó
Chapel
told her to just tell him. Get this
over with. Get her out of this
body. She wondered if any part of
Jim was enjoying this.
This
was her body he was breaking. She
hoped to hell the aliens had regenerators—but then Jim had bled out and
been none the worse for wear. She
should be fine.
She
could tell Denise was about to say, ÒNobody,Ó and somehow managed to wrestle
control from the woman, managed to get her to say, ÒThe Feds,Ó instead.
Mickey
shook his head. ÒDumb broad.Ó Then he reached into his desk drawer,
pulled out his letter opener, and stabbed her in the throat.
He
dropped her on the floor next to his feet.
It took her a long time to bleed out. He worked the whole time she lay dying.
##
The
scenario faded. Chapel crawled away
from Jim, knocking him off her when he picked her up off the floor, having to
do it again when he came back. ÒGet
off me.Ó
ÒChris,
that wasnÕt me.Ó
ÒSome
part of it was.Ó
ÒNo.Ó He lifted the wrist Mickey had broken,
kissed it gently. Pulled her
closer, and laid his lips where her throat had been punctured. ÒThat wasnÕt me.Ó
She
threw her arms around him, hugged him as tightly as she could. ÒI got her to tell him the truth,Ó she
whispered. ÒI wanted it to end so
badly.Ó
ÒI
tried to get him to kill you quickly.
I couldnÕt.Ó He kissed her
again, then pulled away, kissed her for real, a deep kiss, mouth open, tongue
questing.
She
pushed him away. ÒYou donÕt even
like me.Ó
ÒDoes
that matter to you?Ó
She
slapped him—or tried to. He
caught her hand before she could connect.
ÒYes, it goddamn matters.Ó
She felt all the energy go out of her. Tired, she was so very tired. How many more of these scenarios would
they have to do before they got a break?
ÒWhy? Why does it matter?Ó
ÒBecause you know the real me.
Roger, Will, even Spock—they never knew the real me. So if they liked me or not, it didnÕt
matter. They liked a
construct. But if you like me, then
you like me.Ó
ÒHow
could Spock not know the real you?
You two shared consciousness.Ó
ÒThat? After I came down from the high of
having him in my mind and had time to analyze things, I realized he kept so far
away from me, even inside my brain, it was laughable.Ó She looked down. ÒI mean I guess I could be charitable
and say he was the perfect gentleman.
But it was really more like a germaphobe
trying his level best not to touch anything.Ó
ÒSo
no deep sharing?Ó
She
laughed. ÒNo shallow sharing. No sharing, period. You know me best now—to your
detriment.Ó
ÒThen
let me make love to you. I think we
need to get that last scenario out of our heads, donÕt you?Ó
She
nodded.
He
moved in and kissed her slowly, in a way he hadnÕt up till now, and she
realized he was seducing her. For
the first time, she was going to see what her captain was so famous for. He kissed down her body, stopping at her
chest, lingering there a long time until she begged him to keep moving, and
with a smile, he did.
She
arched when he finally touched her, his lips, his tongue, his
fingers. She was so ready for him,
she was gone in moments, but he didnÕt let up, holding her in place, sending
her over the cliff again. He moved
up, watched her face as she came down, as she came back to him.
ÒI
do not think I want to give this up,Ó he whispered as he moved and entered her.
ÒThen
donÕt,Ó she said softly as she wrapped her legs around him, moaning even more
as he pushed them up higher, around his shoulders, as he took her harder than
she expected, the force mitigated by him saying, ÒIÕm sorry, Chris,Ó as he
thrust.
When
he finished, she slid her legs down, wrapping them around his hips, keeping him
in place even though he showed no signs of wanting to escape. He kissed her tenderly and she rubbed
his hair. ÒI could love you so
easily,Ó he murmured. ÒIs that you
or is that us?Ó
ÒI
think thatÕs us. IÕm not that good
on my own.Ó
ÒDonÕt
sell yourself short. You talked
your way aboard my ship and it only took you half an hour.Ó He kissed her again, smiling the same
way he had then. Then his smile changed. ÒMaybe it is us. I was never that big a sucker before or
after.Ó
She
smiled. ÒI knew youÕd let me
on. Something told me youÕd respond
to the finding my lost love angle.Ó
ÒI
expected you to leave after you found Roger. I was surprised you didnÕt. Chalked it up to Spock.Ó
ÒPartly
that. But I enjoyed serving under
you.Ó She squeezed her legs. ÒNot as much as I am right now,
however.Ó
He
laughed.
ÒYou
made me feel safe.Ó
ÒThereÕs
that word again.Ó He tried to
shift, shot her a look when she wouldnÕt let him go. ÒArenÕt I getting heavy?Ó
ÒYes. But I like this. I feel so...connected to you right now.Ó
ÒI
know.Ó He kissed her, a long, sweet
kiss.
It
would have been longer and sweeter if the door to the enclosure hadnÕt been
blown in.
Chapel
thought they set a new land speed record for two people coming apart from sex. He gallantly stood in front of her,
hands in the classic fig-leaf position.
ÒMister
Spock. How nice of you to drop in.Ó
ÒCaptain. Doctor. I trust you are unharmed.Ó
ÒWe
are indeed. I trust you have some
clothing for us?Ó
ÒI
will procure some.Ó
Chapel
giggled. ÒGuess he was not prepared
for the Ôfinding us nakedÕ eventuality?Ó
ÒApparently
not. YouÕd think after all the
times...Ó
ÒI
know.Ó She could feel herself
sweating, knew it was nerves. ÒDo
you think it smells like sex in here?
Vulcans have better senses of smell, right?Ó
ÒIt
probably reeks in here.Ó
She
rested her head against his back for a moment, felt him push against her. Then Spock was back and she stood up
straight, took the clothing he tossed to them and put her own uniform back on.
Jim
turned around, gave her a strange look.
ÒThis
never happened?Ó
ÒI
wasnÕt going to say that.Ó
ÒOkay.Ó She waited. Strangely, she felt more naked with her
clothes on than she had before.
ÒYou
can still call me Jim, but when weÕre alone, only. Until we figure this out.Ó
ÒAll
right.Ó Would they be alone? She decided not to ask. Did not want to hear the answer if it
was no.
ÒJim?Ó Spock, who apparently could call him Jim
whenever the hell he wanted, sounded impatient. ÒAre you ready to go?Ó
ÒYeah. WeÕre ready.Ó He narrowed his eyes, and she wondered
if she should read into the fact that heÕd made it first person plural instead
of singular.
ÒLetÕs
get the hell out of here, Chris.Ó
##
Back
on the ship, it was as if nothing had ever happened. Jim treated her the same way he always
had. Pleasant when he saw her, a
smile, a soft ÒHow are you?Ó but nothing more.
Not
the first night, which she spent waiting for him to comm
her.
Not
the second night, which she also spent by her comm,
after she made sure it was working right.
Not
the third night, which she spent in the rec lounge, turning down offers to
dance and staring at where he and Spock were sitting until Ny finally said,
ÒYou really canÕt let things go, can you?Ó
It
took her a moment to realize her friend was referring to Spock, not the
captain.
ÒYou
know what, Ny? That was the old
me. I can let things go. And
tonight since IÕve got a splitting headache, IÕm turning in as soon as I finish
this drink.Ó She sipped her vodka
tonic and looked around the room.
There were at least ten men younger than the captain and equally as good
looking. She waited until Spock got
up to get more water, threw her drink back, said, ÒGoodnightÓ to Ny, and then walked
to JimÕs table.
She
stopped, leaned down, and said softly, ÒJackson, Foreman, Garcia, Calendro, Monroe, and IÕll leave the other five to your
imagination. The old me would be in
bed with one of them by now. The
new me is just going to turn in. Good night, sir.Ó She straightened up and walked out
quickly.
A
few minutes later, her chime rang and she smiled. This had been easier than sheÕd thought.
She
opened the door and her smile faded—Spock stood there. ÒCan I...help you?Ó
ÒJim
indicated you might need to talk?Ó
ÒExcuse
me?Ó
ÒI
surmised that the aliens put you through something similar to what we underwent
with the Platonians?Ó
She
managed to both shake her head and nod tightly—the perfect gesture of
ambiguity. She added a shrug for
good measure.
ÒChristine,
the corridor is surely not the place to discuss this.Ó
ÒYou
want to come in?Ó She stood
aside. ÒThen by all means, come on
in.Ó She waited to see where he
would sit, sat as far from him as she could. ÒWhy are you here, now?Ó
ÒI
saw you talking to Jim just before you left the rec lounge. He seemed...out of sorts so I inquired
if all was well.Ó
ÒHmm.Ó
ÒYou
have mastered the monosyllabic non-response as well as he has.Ó
ÒMed
school teaches you lots of things.
You said he said to come?Ó
ÒHe
said you probably needed to talk.Ó
ÒDid
he say he meant I needed to talk to you?Ó
ÒHe
did not. I inferred that, given
your feelings for me in the past. I
believe he intended for me to infer that since he did not stop me when I said I
would leave him and come to inquire as to your well being.Ó
She
kept her face as stone faced as his used to be. His expression now was actually quite
confused. ÒIÕm fine, Spock.Ó
ÒBut
you were ill used.Ó
ÒIÕm
fine.Ó She leaned in. ÒAnd I donÕt need to talk to you. I...got
over you. IÕm sorry if thatÕs not
what you wanted to hear.Ó
ÒThat
answer does not trouble me.Ó
ÒThen
weÕre fine.Ó She stood up. ÒAnd you can go. This has been very helpful, thank you
for reaching out.Ó
He
frowned, an actual frown, with brows knitted down and mouth pursed. ÒIn what way was this helpful?Ó
She
patted him on the arm. ÒIn the way
that I know I have a friend. And if
I need help, I can go to you. CanÕt
I?Ó
ÒYou
can.Ó
ÒAnd
I didnÕt know that before. So
thatÕs very helpful. And
reassuring.Ó
ÒThis
is a very strange conversation.Ó
ÒIt
really is. Will you do me one
favor, Spock?Ó
ÒYes.Ó He sounded a little bit defeated.
She
smiled. ÒIt wonÕt hurt, I promise. Tell the captain about our strange
conversation. I think he will find
it illuminating.Ó
ÒI
do not understand.Ó
ÒI
know. But do it anyway. For a friend. And then, in the future, if he ever asks
you to do anything like this again, tell him to go to hell.Ó She leaned up and kissed his cheek. ÒAnd tell him I said that, too. Do not
leave out that part.Ó
ÒMost
illogical.Ó
ÒI
know. But youÕre dealing with
humans, my friend.Ó
She
went to bed as soon as he was gone.
She knew Jim well enough to know there was no way heÕd show up that
night.
##
A
week later, she was tired of being ignored. There were no more stunts with Spock,
thank God, and Jim hadnÕt tried to sic Len on her in an Òany boss in the stormÓ
kind of thing. But he was outdoing
himself on the ÒChris doesnÕt existÓ front. The last time sheÕd passed him in the
corridors, he hadnÕt even acknowledged her.
That
had hurt.
She
was walking from the gym to her quarters, trying not to think about him when
the lift opened and he walked out.
He took her in but walked right by her, no greeting, not even a
nod.
She
turned, ready to say something, but she stopped herself. This was his ship. And sheÕd told him who she really was.
And
he clearly didnÕt like who she really was.
She
got back to her quarters, sat down at her desk, and put her transfer request
in. She sent it straight to
him—heÕd know why she wanted off.
Hell, heÕd probably expedite it, replacement be damned.
Then
she just sat, staring at the screen, waiting for it to come back approved so
she could start packing. She wanted
to cry but she felt empty inside, like tears were for the fake Christines sheÕd built for Roger and Will, the women theyÕd
fallen in love with. The real
Chapel had nothing left inside her.
He
didnÕt respond to the request, and she finally moved from the chair to the bed,
lying unsleeping, staring at the ceiling, counting the tiles until her shift
started.
She
worked through the day, expecting Len to come out and ask her why she was
leaving, expecting Jim to come in and tell her to not let the door hit her on
the way out—a physical impossibility on a starship, barring malfunction,
but still a great saying if you werenÕt the one it was said to.
Nothing.
She
was so tired she felt sick, and she was too keyed up to eat. She drank coffee in the morning, but the
caffeine made her sick so she switched to water. By the end of her shift her hands were
shaking and she felt dizzy.
She
went back to her quarters, sat in front of her computer. Still nothing. She hit the intercom, said softly,
ÒQuarters to quarters only.Ó
The
computer replied, ÒQuarters to quarters only.Ó
ÒChapel
to Kirk.Ó
No
answer.
She
waited, sipping water, getting shakier as the night progressed and he still
wasnÕt there.
Finally,
he answered. ÒKirk here.Ó
ÒI
sent you something.Ó Her voice was
trembling and she hated that: heÕd think she was crying.
ÒI
saw it yesterday.Ó
ÒCan
you do something with it please?Ó
ÒIÕm
still thinking about it.Ó He cut
the connection.
A
moment later, her chime rang. She
didnÕt get up, just said, ÒCome.Ó
He
came in, took one look at her, and said, ÒChris,Ó as he crouched down.
ÒI
need to get off this ship.Ó She met
his eyes, had trouble seeing him.
Why was it so hard to see him?
ÒShhh, itÕs all right.Ó
He was easing her up, over to sit on the bed. ÒWhen was the
last time you ate?Ó
ÒI
donÕt know. Lunch yesterday.Ó
He
handed her a tissue—was she crying?
ÒDid you get any sleep last night?Ó
ÒNo. Jim, just approve the damn request. Let me out of here. You donÕt like me. You donÕt approve of me. I understand that. I just canÕt live with it. I need to get off your ship. I canÕt breathe.Ó
He
pulled her into his arms and kissed her, his lips gentle, like that first kiss
heÕd given her in the zoo. The one
that said, ÒIÕm sorry I hurt you.Ó
And
it broke her. She really started to
cry and was sure heÕd push her away, but he only held on tighter.
ÒChris,
Chris, IÕm sorry, but I had to know how youÕd act. If I ignored you in a
nice way, if I sent Spock your way, and if I wasnÕt so nice. I had to know. Who were you really?Ó
ÒWell,
you see. IÕm pathetic.Ó
ÒNo,
youÕre not. You didnÕt sleep with
all those—younger, thanks for that—men. You sent Spock back to me the way you
should. And you didnÕt call me out
in an empty corridor and make a scene.
You didnÕt force it. You
didnÕt try to seduce me when I wasnÕt going to let you in. You just...asked to be
let off the ship. I didnÕt
expect this, though.Ó He played
with her hair and she leaned against him.
ÒI didnÕt expect you to be so sad.Ó
ÒI
never let anyone see the real me.
But I felt safe with you.
Even when you were ignoring me but testing me with stupid things like
Spock, I still did. But then you
werenÕt even acknowledging me and I didnÕt feel safe anymore. And I didnÕt know what I was going to do
if you didnÕt let me off the ship.
I couldnÕt go back to what I was, not on your ship. But I wasnÕt going to let anyone else
in, not as long as I was here. I feel
so lost.Ó
ÒIf
I let you go, will you go back to being that old Christine?Ó
ÒI
donÕt know. Probably.Ó
ÒThen
I clearly canÕt let you go.Ó
ÒWhat?Ó
ÒCome
on.Ó He pulled her up, drew her
with him to the bathroom, and said, ÒI havenÕt eaten either, so clean up,
Doctor. I canÕt be seen in the mess
with a woman who has makeup running down her face.Ó
She
tried to wipe off the smeared mascara but her hands were shaking. ÒIÕm sorry, Jim. IÕm just so tired.Ó She turned and walked back to the
bedroom.
He
caught her before she got the desk, pulled her into his arms and held her. ÒItÕs okay. WeÕll do the grand coming out some other
day. What sounds good? IÕll get it for us.Ó
She
had to think about it, finally said, ÒA ham and cheese omelette?Ó
ÒI
make a great omelette. Eggs are kind of my specialty. Someday, IÕll cook them for you.Ó He let her go, went to the bed and
turned down the covers. Then he took
off her uniform, kissing her gently as he worked. ÒIÕm sorry, sweetheart.Ó
Once
she was naked, he said, ÒGet into bed.
IÕll be back with dinner.Ó
ÒWhat
if I fall asleep?Ó
ÒPut
me on your door.Ó
She
walked over with him to the door, added him to the access list, and then let
him tuck her in and give her a kiss.
ÒWhy are you doing this?Ó
ÒBecause
I want you. And you passed all my
tests—and some I didnÕt even know I had.Ó He leaned in for another kiss and then
left her.
She
closed her eyes, was asleep in seconds, woke when he came back, crawling into
her bed as naked as she, plumping pillows behind her, sharing the enormous omelette heÕd had made for them.
ÒThis
is better than they usually fix it.Ó
ÒI
have them add dill.Ó
ÒMmmm.Ó
She
was so sleepy she could barely keep her eyes open, felt more than saw him put
the plate on the floor. ÒSo I can
stay—with you, I mean?Ó
ÒNo,
I plan to feed all the crew in bed...naked.Ó
She
smiled. ÒIt might increase
efficiency.Ó
He
laughed. ÒEven dead tired you make
me smile.Ó
ÒI
can make you smile more. Make love
to me.Ó
ÒTomorrow. YouÕre too tired right now. WeÕre not just about sex, Chris.Ó
ÒThatÕs
nice.Ó She cuddled into him. ÒI missed you.Ó
ÒI
missed you, too.Ó
FIN