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) 2005 by Djinn. This story is Rated R.

Collide on Dry Land

by Djinn

There'll be a storm one night,

but you will find my place of hiding.

We'll watch the lights like children,

leave the fortress hand in hand.

I'll be thunder;

you'll be lightning,

and we'll collide on dry land.

-- "I'll Be Thunder" by Rupert Hine & Jeannette Obstoj

Kirk put his book down, the pages ruffling in the soft breeze that blew across the inlet. One of the benefits of being an admiral was being able to afford living right on the water. He closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the back of his chaise as he tried to think of other bennies. Having his apartment in town for when he was on duty was pleasant. Unlimited transporter credits were handy. The "brass groupies" were nice, too. Nice...until he'd started noticing that the lovely young things seemed to be less interested in him as a person than in him as a way of getting to the finer things in life--like those unlimited transporter credits. Or the lovely view from his house on the water.

"You're very serious," the latest of the lovely young things said as she walked onto the deck and sat down in the lounger next to him.

"Mmmm." He turned to look at her.

He'd been with her for five weeks. She was lithe, tanned. Her strawberry blonde hair gleamed in the sun. Her green eyes barely showed a crease around them as she squinted in the bright light before slipping on sunshades.

He enjoyed her beauty, relished showing her off to his peers. And he enjoyed having sex with her. But over the last few weeks, he'd decided he liked little else about her. Then again, up to now, her beauty and the sex had been enough.

"What's my favorite color, Marian?" he asked.

"Blonde," she said laughing.

"What's my favorite type of music?"

"What's the most boring game on the planet?" She sighed, leaning back and staring out at the water. "Twenty questions, that's what."

"What's my favorite wine?"

She frowned a little. "You seemed awfully fond of that cabernet you sucked down last night at Morrow's party."

He laughed in surprise. Was that a crack in her beautifully tended presentation? Although, she wasn't wrong--he was drinking more than he used to.

"Jim, what's wrong?"

"What are my hopes and dreams?" He leaned toward her, touched her arm--her soft, supple skin. "What do I miss most?"

"Sex, if you don't shut up." She laughed, then her smiled faded as she saw the look in his eyes. "That was a joke."

"Not a funny one. Not today." He took a deep breath. Not today and not tomorrow. And not the next day, when he turned fifty.

Fifty. When had he gotten so damned old?

"I know you miss your ship. It--"

"--She."

"What?"

"She. The ship's a she, not an it."

Her look clearly said she didn't see the difference--or why it should matter.

"Do you understand how much I miss her? Or do you just soak up what I say like a little sponge and give it back to me when I'm cranky?"

She'd called him that when he'd been in one of his moods. As if having your life pass you by was something that made you just a little cranky.

"What's wrong with you?" She got up, the movement simple and elegant. Only the young can get up that way. Without thought. Without effort.

He certainly couldn't get up that way anymore. "I'm tired."

"Tired of me?" She looked a little shocked at the thought.

"Tired of life." He met her eyes. "And...maybe...of you."

She didn't look hurt, just surprised again. "Do you love me, Jim?"

Did he love her? What did that even mean anymore? "I don't know."

"Well, at least you're honest." She leaned down, kissing his forehead. "You're not tired, Jim. You're old. And I don't want to be with an old man."

Her words stung--but not as much as they should. What the hell was wrong with him? "Then don't be with an old man."

"Not a problem." She walked away. No backward glance. No sigh or hesitation. He could imagine her inside, calmly collecting her personal items. He could picture the easy way she'd move as she filled up her little bag with the things she'd scattered around his bedroom and his bathroom. Things that had meant he wasn't alone.

"Goodbye," he murmured as he heard the front door close about ten minutes later.

It was a short walk to the transporter station, and he imagined she wouldn't cry as she covered it. But then he heard a flitter come in, and he couldn't resist the urge to get up. Walking quickly to the back window, he saw her close the door of the flitter, caught a glimpse of the thick, blonde hair and tanned, young skin of the man sitting next to her. Some kid she'd met at the marina, maybe? Or at the gym. Or at the store. Or just walking down the hall at work. A woman like Marian could meet a young man like that anywhere. A young man who would rescue her from her aging lover, with his cranky ways and stupid, female ship.

Kirk sat down heavily in the nearest chair. Had she been sleeping with this young buck? Had she even cared at all about Kirk? Had he cared about her? He hadn't liked her the way he'd liked the women he'd been with when he was younger. Marian had aroused him. She'd made him proud when he'd walked into a room with her on his arm. But he hadn't known her any better than she'd known him. She'd been using him; he'd been using her. And, until today, that had been fine with both of them.

He could feel the pang of loneliness. The cold, empty feel of a house that sheltered only him and his broken dreams. He was glad he was going out on the inspection cruise with Spock and his cadets. Normally, being around the cadets, back on the ship that wasn't his anymore--even if he'd always think of it that way--was a little depressing. Now...now it would be less depressing than his life.

Sighing, he went back out to the sunshine. To the lovely deck of his lovely house with the lovely view. His lovely--lonely--view.

-----------------

"Captain, nice to see you." Chapel smiled at Spock as he walked into Emergency Operations. Her heart beat a little faster--something she hated, but had long ago resigned herself to.

"Commander." His eyes were warm, but it was the warmth of long association, not of any sort of tender feeling.

"How are you?" The question came out professional, not giddy. She'd learned over the years to temper her feelings. To present herself better.

"I am well. You appear to be thriving in this environment."

She grinned at him. He seemed to like that, even if he would never smile back. "I am."

"Then you made the right decision to come here." That settled, Spock began to scan the room.

"You're looking for the Admiral?" She nodded back toward where Kirk sat with Cartwright. "Not a happy fellow today."

"He has been moody of late."

"Turning fifty does that to a man." She imagined it did that to a gal, too. If she let it. Chapel didn't intend to let it. "Go join them. Take his mind off getting older."

Spock nodded and moved away.

"Should I be jealous?" A soft touch on her neck caused shivers.

"No." She smiled as Dan leaned down. He was the total opposite of Spock. Open and willing to show emotion--sometimes too much.

Like now. "I hate it when he talks to you. I know how you feel about him."

"It's ancient history." She was going to kill Jan for spilling the beans about Chapel's infatuation with Spock that night they'd taken her out to celebrate her promotion. So what if they'd all been drunk? She could have kept that little nugget to herself.

"Not so ancient. I see how you light up around him. And he almost smiled at you."

"No. He did not." She put her hand up quickly, touching him.

Her new beau was a little younger than she was. He'd been a co-worker long before he'd become her lover. Blonde and tan and handsome, he was sweet and just what the doctor ordered for someone suffering from tall, dark Vulcans who never loved you back. Or what the doctor would have ordered if doctors delivered boyfriends instead of meds and bad news.

She'd gotten tired of medicine. After pushing herself to get through med school in record time, she'd gotten tired of the damned prize. Len had reamed her up one side and down the other when she'd switched to emergency ops. Spock had been surprisingly supportive, as had Kirk. And she hadn't regretted taking the assignment. She was happy here. And she'd met Lieutenant Commander Dan Castello here. What more proof did she need that she'd made the right decision?

"Sweetie?"

"Just pondering my extreme luck in finding you." She felt him touch her neck again.

"Keep that line of thought. I approve heartily."

"The old man wants a report," Rand said under her breath, looking over at Chapel.

Chapel looked down, realized her comm was blinking. "Crap. How long has he been pinging me?"

"Long enough to know you were monumentally distracted." Rand smiled at her, then up at Dan, winking as she said, "And who can blame her?"

"At least someone appreciates my charms," he said, letting go of Chapel.

"I never said I didn't." Chapel got up. "Watch as I try to recover," she said, grabbing the padd with the update on the outbreak at the shipyards on Mars. She may have tired of being a doctor, but she'd never left medicine behind.

"Sirs," she said, as she walked past Kirk and Spock.

"A trifle tardy, Commander," Kirk said, his voice not the normal teasing he usually gave her.

She looked up, saw that his eyes were puffy--he looked tired. "Apologies, sir." Although she wasn't sure why she was apologizing to him.

"No apologies needed. Love is a wonderful thing." His expression was hard. As if he believed anything but.

"Yes, love is." She could hear defiance in her voice and dialed it down. It was probably hypocritical to defend love when she hadn't been able to bring herself to tell Dan she loved him. "If you'll excuse me?"

"He'll break your heart. I guarantee it."

She looked at Spock who seemed to shrug a little.

"That's what they do. These people we love." Kirk grinned at her, but it was a terribly bitter expression.

She thought it was far more likely she'd break Dan's heart. Maybe Kirk was talking about his own situation, not hers? She'd seen him lately with some gorgeous, young thing. That seemed to be all he dated anymore. Star fuckers, Janice called them, and Chapel didn't disagree with her.

"Love doesn't always sour." Although none of them stood as a testament to the enduring happiness theory. She tried again. "It won't this time." There was something almost pleading in her voice and she hated that it was there. She believed in love. Didn't she?

Taking a deep breath, Kirk touched her hand, surprising her. "I hope it doesn't sour. For your sake, I hope it doesn't."

She let her hand rest on his. "Maybe for both of us." She glanced at Spock. "Or all of us?"

Spock shot her a look that was clearly telling her not to include him in their romantic messes.

She laughed and turned back to Kirk. "Well, for the two of us, anyway."

"Let's hope." He pretended to lift a glass to her, probably in a toast to her optimism--she decided not to tell him it was feigned. "Go on," he said. "Cartwright's waiting."

She hurried into her boss's office, ignoring his raised eyebrows as she launched into the situation report. As it usually did, the mission absorbed him quickly, distracting him from questions about what she was doing with a colleague--Ops folks tended not to date within the fold.

Walking back out, she saw Dan turn around, motioning her over as if he had an update to pass on. "Spock was bad enough, but Kirk, too?"

Laughing, she waved his worry away.

"He was holding your hand."

"No, he was sort of patting it. It was very former-captainly." She smiled down at him.

"You light up around him the same way you do with Spock."

She leaned in. "You've served on a starship. You know the kind of bonds people forge on those long missions. I light up around him because he's a fine captain and a friend." Which wasn't true. If he was her friend, how come he'd never asked her to call him by his first name? But Dan didn't need to know that. Or that it bothered her that Kirk hadn't done it. "Trust me on this one."

"Why's that? He's not your type? You don't find James 'T for Tomcat' Kirk attractive?"

"Honestly, I've never even thought about it." She glanced over at Jan. "She, on the other hand, had it bad for him. I lusted after Spock; she lusted after Kirk. It was very, very simple."

He took a deep breath. "All right, then. But nix the holding hands, okay?"

She saw Cartwright frowning at her. "Old man alert."

Dan nodded as if she was filling him in on the meeting. "Let's sneak away this weekend. Go up to the mountains or something. I found a very rustic place. No amenities except a comfy bed and a very big shower." Whenever things got uncomfortable for them, they fell back on the easy stuff--like sex.

"Bad boy. Stealing me away for your nefarious purposes."

He waggled his eyebrows. "Yes, and you like me bad."

He wasn't wrong.

-----------------

Done with his round of pre-inspection cruise meetings, Kirk cut through ops, and saw Chapel with her new beau. He regretted what he'd said to her the day before. It wasn't her fault he couldn't make love work. Or that he'd been too raw from his own break-up to want to see her happy.

And no one deserved to be happy more than she did. After all the pain she'd known, it should be good to see her with someone she cared about.

She intercepted him in the middle of the room, smiling as she walked up, and he realized she wasn't holding the previous day's interaction against him. "Sir?"

"Just passing through."

She was about to answer, but something distracted her. She glanced over to the main entrance to ops, her smile dying. "God, I hate these damned tours."

He turned, was shocked to see familiar reddish blonde hair and lithe, tan legs well displayed in a very short, very tight, black dress. Marian glanced over at him, looking as shocked as he did.

"Isn't she a friend of yours?" Chapel asked, putting an interesting spin on the word "friend."

Chapel never missed anything. She rarely commented, though, so maybe she was paying him back for yesterday?

"Old girlfriend. As in two day's ago, she was still my girlfriend."

"I'm sorry, sir."

Kirk saw Chapel's beau glancing over at her. Then the man got up and seemed to be working his way slowly over to them, looking very busy as he checked monitors along the way. "I think your boyfriend has a problem with our conversation."

She was watching the tour group. "He's fine with it."

The man looked up, his eyes meeting Kirk's. His expression was not the look of "fine with it." Kirk was about to say something when he realized that Admiral Lovell had walked in and made a beeline for Marian.

"Took her no time at all to find a replacement," he muttered, wondering what had happened to the young man who'd looked a little like Chapel's beau.

"I think she's gone down in quality." An encouraging grin lit Chapel's face, and he laughed softly.

"Funny thing. I met her on a tour, too." He could imagine how Marian had targeted Lovell. The little stumble in the hall timed for when he'd been about to pass her. The gallant admiral would have stopped to steady her, getting the full force of her wide green eyes and sensual lips. He would have been bowled over by her interest. By her beauty and youth.

"She left me because I'm old." He wasn't sure why he was sharing that with Chapel.

"Sir, with all due respect, that's bull. Lovell's pushing sixty."

"He is, isn't he?" He wondered why that hadn't been the first thing he'd thought. Was he so busy leading his own pity parade, he couldn't see it? He wondered what other wisdom she might impart. "You want to get some lunch?"

"Sure." She walked over to her station, doing something that probably transferred her comms to someone else during her break.

Rand was not at her station, and Kirk felt a moment of guilty relief. Janice was over him, he thought...or mostly so.

Chapel stopped where her beau was standing--no longer trying very hard to look busy--and she said something to him, leaning in. The man looked over at Kirk, then back at her, his expression more angry than understanding.

She didn't need this. She didn't need Kirk mucking up her love life for no good reason other than she seemed willing to hear him rant on about his own.

Sighing, he walked over to them. "Commander, perhaps lunch isn't a good idea. I'm a little short on time."

She didn't look grateful for the out he was giving her. She looked damned pissed. "Then we'll eat fast, sir." Walking past him, she headed for the back entrance, leaving Kirk, her boyfriend, and the tour group behind.

Grimacing a little as if that could make it up to Chapel's lover that he was stealing her for lunch, Kirk hurried to catch up with her. "You sure that was a good idea?"

"What? Not letting him dictate what I can and cannot do?" She shot him a hard glance. "I had enough of that with Roger."

"Okay."

"Dan's jealous. Of Spock. Of you. Of any guy I talk to for more than ten seconds. He can learn to get over it."

"Right."

"Don't humor me, Admiral."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Chris." He used the name that not many others did, and was glad to see her smile. "He loves you. He doesn't want to share you. Is that so bad?" But then he remembered Janice Lester. How paranoid she'd become during the last few months they'd been together. She'd said she smelled perfume on his clothes, that she'd found lipstick on his shirts. He'd never cheated on her--not even when she'd been making his life a living hell. But she'd been convinced he had. "Unless the jealousy is out of control. Is it?"

She sighed. "No. I'm just...I've just..." She looked over at him. "I sort of got used to being alone. To having my own time and my own way. To not having to answer to anyone."

He nodded. He'd liked that, too. But not enough to offset all the things he'd missed when he'd been alone. Seemed like, once he got off his ship, the first thing he did was find himself a woman.

Any woman, apparently. Maybe it was time to be a little more selective.

"It's new, and I'm just a little squirrelly." Laughing, she looked down. "I have a great guy who loves me, and I'm squirrelly."

"We all have our foibles."

"So how long were you with her?" she asked as they turned into the mess.

"Not long." Or too long. Depending on how he looked at it.

She grabbed a sandwich, saw him looking at it and got one for him, too. "Very healthy. Lots of veggies."

"I don't want a veggie sandwich." He put it back in the cooler, dug around for something supremely bad for him. "I'm turning fifty tomorrow. I should get to enjoy my last meal in my forties." He was used to hiding the fifty part, but she knew how old he was. Hell, this woman had seen him naked, sick, hurt, even dead--or pretending to be. No sense in trying to hide the truth from her.

She handed him another sandwich. Chicken salad. The kind with grapes and curry. And lots of mayonnaise.

"Perfect," he said, nabbing a large chocolate-chip cookie as they passed the dessert area.

They both seemed to head for a less populated part of the mess, then they laughed at the synchronicity.

Sitting in a back booth, she smiled at his look. "I have people at me all day. It's nice to have some privacy. What's your excuse?"

He shrugged. At her stern look, he said, "Okay, maybe I don't want anyone around to hear me share things I should keep to myself."

"Why to yourself?" She opened up her sandwich, biting into what seemed to be nothing but grilled, cold vegetables on dry bread. It looked awful.

"Because I don't want anyone feeling sorry for me. Or knowing I feel sorry for myself." He gave her his version of the stern stare. "And if you tell anyone, I'll hunt you down and make you sorry."

She held up a hand, nearly losing the innards from that side of her sandwich. "I don't plan to tell. So...this is a hard birthday, huh?"

He nodded, biting into the chicken salad instead of answering. It was a sinfully good sandwich.

"Why do you think that is?" She was gazing at him placidly. Reminding him of all the times she'd been in sickbay, tending him. So calm. Such a beacon of "you'll be all right" with her gentle way of being.

"Because I hate that I'm getting old."

"Why old? Why not just older."

A number of answers came to his mind. Because he had a son who was older than the cadets he had to try to keep up with. Because his endurance--in the gym, and other places--wasn't what it had been. Because his hair was thinner and his belly wasn't. Because when he looked at his life, he looked backward, not forward.

"For what it's worth, sir. You're not old." She smiled, then went back to her sandwich.

He decided to change the subject. "I'm sorry, by the way. About how I acted yesterday. Breaking up with Marian may have made me a little bitter."

"A little?" Her grin took the sting out.

"A lot?" He shook his head. "I'm glad you're happy." He saw something pass over her face, a shadow in her expression. "You are happy?"

"I am." She sounded like she was trying to convince them both.

"Is it Spock? I thought you were over him."

"This isn't about Spock. Only..." She sighed. "Do you ever feel like life was what happened on the Enterprise? That everything after that is just...redux?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Dan's good and sweet. And he loves me." She looked down.

"You left out a part."

"And I love him."

"Good concept. Shaky on the execution." His voice was meaner than he intended.

She met his eyes. "Did you love her? Your young bimbo?"

He was surprised at her sarcasm. "Bimbo?"

"I'm sorry. Was she not that?"

He sighed. "I don't think she was."

"You don't think she was? Or you hope she wasn't?"

"Vegetables make you presumptuous, Chapel."

She looked down.

He felt bad instantly, wanted the rapport they'd been enjoying back. "I'm sorry. I--"

"--No, sir, it's all right. I was out of line." She took a deep breath, looking up at him. Her eyes were like blue lasers. Hard. Harder than he expected. But she'd changed, she'd grown. And gotten older, too. "It's not as if we're friends."

He answered before he could think about it, before he could analyze why her words hurt him. "No, it's not as if we are."

She looked away, and he didn't say anything to make it better. They ate in silence--an awkward silence.

Unwrapping his cookie, he held it out to her. "Truce?"

"Are we at war?" But she tore off a piece.

"We shouldn't be." He broke off some cookie for himself. "We could be friends."

"We could. Maybe we shouldn't be, though. Maybe there's no reason to be." She reached over, taking another bit of the sugary goodness. "This is good. Happy early birthday."

"Thanks."

They finished off the cookie in a silence that was not so awkward.

"Great." She was looking toward the door.

Turning, he saw that her lover had come in. The man seemed to be trying hard to look like he was not scanning the mess for her.

"Love is possession," she said softly. "Roger used to say that. I hated it when he said that." She slid out of the booth.

"You're going to go?"

"I have to get back. Enjoy your inspection cruise."

"I will." That, at least, was a given. Even if it was horrible, he'd be on his ship. On the only girl who loved him. On the only girl he'd never abandon.

She turned away.

"Chris?"

She looked back.

"Are you over Spock?"

"I don't know." She gave him a sheepish grin. "But it's a cinch that he never cared enough about me to have anything to get over. So if I'm not over him, then I'm truly pathetic."

"No, you're not." He still thought about Carol. Even now, decades later, he still wondered: What if?

"Godspeed, sir."

"Good luck in ops."

She turned and left him alone. He saw her beau turn away, as if he wasn't looking for her, as if he wasn't there to find her. She walked over, touching his arm gently. Her smile was sweet--but maybe not quite all there. Her boyfriend looked down at her, then nodded several times. Letting go of him, she walked out.

Kirk turned away from watching her, saw that he was being watched now. And not in a friendly way. Feeling surly, he lifted his water glass to Chapel's lover. The man turned away and disappeared inside the food service area.

Kirk waited until he came back out before he got up to leave. Deliberately going to a recycler near the table the man had chosen, Kirk chose a path to the exit that would allow him to meet the man's gaze, offering a cool, "Commander."

"Admiral," the man said back, challenge in his eyes. But then he looked away. Looked down. The challenge died.

Kirk walked on, feeling a moment of satisfaction. He might be getting old, but he was still alpha.

-----------------

Chapel sat in the back of ops, head down, nursing her coffee as she tried not to cry. They'd been away, she and Dan. Using leave. Off in the mountains. Off in the mountains while Spock had died to save his ship, and his cadets, and possibly much, much more if that madman Khan hadn't been contained.

Spock was dead. How could Spock be dead?

How could she have been gone when he was dying? When it was announced to all the worlds of the Federation, but not to their cabin in the mountain that Dan had been so pleased was rustic enough to not have any modern conveniences. And he'd kept her too busy to get to the main building, where they did have the news on.

She'd seen the announcement at breakfast as they'd gotten ready to come back to work. Seen it and felt her world crumble. Now they were back in ops, and she'd read all the comms she could find on the incident, and her world was still crumbling.

"Hon'?" Dan sat down next to her.

"Not now."

"You don't even know what I'm going to say."

She realized she didn't care what he was going to say. But it was not good to admit that to him. "I'm sorry."

She was sorry he was there, bothering her, when all she wanted to do was try to absorb that Spock was dead.

And Dan seemed to realize it. "Christine. Let me in. I know this hurts, but I can share it with you."

She looked up at him slowly. "You didn't know him. At all."

"But I know you. I can be with you." He had been with her--she'd been screwing him as Spock died.

"Christine. Please don't shut me out." He sounded desperate. Love and fear coloring his voice. Making it one she recognized. Her own voice when Spock hadn't wanted her. Her own voice when Roger had left her alone with only her engagement ring.

She let Dan hug her, then. In the middle of ops. Where it wasn't done, where you didn't advertise that you were dating your coworker. But Spock was dead, and Dan wanted to help, and he loved her, and Spock never had.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, clutching at Dan. She wasn't sure if she was sorry she'd shut him out, or only sorry that Spock had never wanted her the way this other man did.

"It's okay." This time he didn't seem to read between the lines. "I'm here."

She let him lead her back to her station. She stayed there, working, burying herself in the reports that came in.

"He's worried about you," Janice said softly as she leaned over, handing Chapel a padd.

"He's smothering me." She hadn't meant to say that.

"We should all be so cursed." Jan shook her head. "You finally have a man who loves you without limit, and you hate it."

"Jan, not now, okay?"

Janice sighed, but she nodded, turning away.

Chapel read through the padd Jan had given her, then went back to the comms, until she saw the notification that the Enterprise would be in spacedock soon.

"I have to go see her come in," she said, looking over at Rand. "We should both go."

Rand nodded. Taking command of their leaving. Assigning their reports elsewhere.

"You're going up, aren't you?" Dan asked--Chapel hadn't even heard him walk over.

"You can come with us," Janice said, her voice very gentle.

"No." Chapel could hear how harsh her voice was. Tried to make it less cold, but failed as she told him, "You didn't serve with him."

Dan sat back down; Chapel didn't look at him.

"Christine, why did you do that?" Janice said as they left ops. "He loves you so."

"Jan, we don't have to go together."

"Fine." Janice didn't say anything as they walked to the transporter room. Beaming up, they found their way to the lounge. Chapel was stopped by a nurse she'd served with on the Enterprise; Janice moved on toward the viewports. From opposite corners of the lounge, they watched the ship limp home. Chapel was shocked at the damage the ship had taken.

They met back up by the door, working their way to the transporter area, hovering around the pads like so many others, watching as the crew beamed in. There was subdued clapping, murmured condolences. Hands reaching out to touch cadets, to reassure the youngsters who never should have gone through what they did.

Chapel felt her friend tense next to her. "Oh, god," Janice said, turning away.

Looking at the transporter pad, Chapel saw Kirk had beamed in with a blonde woman. "Isn't that Carol Marcus?" She'd been a legend at Chapel's university even back then--a prodigy obsessed with terraforming.

Jan nodded. "He was with her. For a long time. Years ago." She glanced back. "And now, too. From the look of it."

"How do you--"

"--You obsessed over Spock. You looked up every little thing you could about him. Well, I did that for the Admiral. I know who he was with. I know that this one...she's not casual." Janice took a last look at the couple and fled.

Chapel stood, torn between going to comfort her friend and staying for the man who wasn't her friend but could have been. She chose him, turned to see him walk up.

He looked surprised to see her, but pulled her into a hug almost without thought. "He's gone, Chris."

"I know." She started to cry. Tried to hold it in, her body shaking.

He whispered, "Let it out. It hurts too much to keep it in."

She did what he told her. Finally pulling away, she saw that she'd left his uniform damp where she'd hidden her face against him. "Admiral, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay." He turned her. "Carol. This is Commander Chapel. She served with us. With Spock. He was...special to her."

The other woman touched her hand. "I'm sorry. He was such a good man."

Chapel wasn't sure what to say, so she just nodded. "I should get back to duty."

"Yes." He smiled at her. His eyes seemed to convey a message of "I'm happy. In all this hell, with all this death, I'm somehow happy."

Chapel suddenly knew Janice had been right to flee. She leaned in again, near Kirk's ear. "If she can make you happy, then I'm pleased for you."

He looked touched, then he turned to Carol. "Ready?"

She nodded, her expression gentle. The look of someone who's had something precious returned.

"Will there be a service for Spock?" Chapel asked.

"We had one. On the ship."

"Of course." She straightened. "Good bye, sir. Doctor Marcus."

He nodded. "Take care, Chris."

"Goodbye, Commander," Carol murmured.

Chapel followed Janice's lead and fled. But not back to ops. She found an out-of-the-way room in an out-of-the-way section of Starfleet medical, and locked herself in.

And then she cried until she ran out of tears.

------------------

"What do you mean you have to go?" Carol looked at Kirk, her expression hard. The expression he remembered from years ago. When she'd made him choose between her or space. Between his son or space.

"It's not something I can talk about."

"Not this again. Not this classified bullshit again."

"Carol. I swear to you this is important. This is...this is the most important thing I may ever do." McCoy was going insane, and Spock's spirit lived on inside him, yearning to go home. And Kirk could do something to give them both peace.

"I won't do this again." She turned, and he stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"It's for Spock. It's for Bones. And...it's not really regulation."

She turned to look at him. "What are you going to do?"

"I can't tell you." If he mentioned Genesis, she'd want to come. She'd be in direct violation of the order keeping them away. Keeping her away. Starfleet had, for whatever reason, allowed David access, but not Carol.

It had killed her to leave her planet behind. He'd thought she'd been all right, though, after they'd spent the time back to Earth getting reacquainted in every way that mattered. He'd thought she'd settled down a little. That the caustic energy that had always driven her toward one day making Genesis a reality was gone now that it had worked. Genesis had worked.

And no matter what else happened--no matter how much they excluded her from this point on--she'd done it. She'd made it. It was her baby. But, Genesis was her Enterprise, and he knew if he told her that he was stealing his old ship to go to her new planet, she'd never understand. Never forgive him for not including him. Even once he got back, he was going to have a devil of a time getting her to forgive him.

He accepted that, but he hadn't expected her to not forgive him for simply being unable to tell her where he was going. And he could see her closing down. Could feel it in the way the air changed between them. The ease they'd found, the desire they'd rekindled, was dying.

"Tell me where you're going and why, or I'm leaving," she said.

So that was the choice this time? Spock or her? "Then leave."

It hurt more than it had with Marian. It hurt a lot, and if his heart hadn't been broken by the meld with Sarek--by reliving Spock's death over and over, first in his mind, then on the video--he might care more. But this mattered. This was for Spock. Carol had to stand aside and let him do this. Or she had to get the hell out of his way before he knocked her aside.

"I've missed you," he said. "Having you back in my life--it's been indescribable." He saw her eyes soften. "But I won't be held hostage by the fear that you'll walk away again. I won't have you dictate what I can and cannot do." He thought of Chapel's words, said them out loud. "Love is not possession."

Carol's eyes went hard. And he knew she was not going to accept that. Because to her, love was possession. David had stayed in her world, because sharing him with Kirk had been something that her love would not allow. And now, she would not share Kirk with Spock. Or with his duty to his friends, with his need to take this one, last, desperate chance.

He turned away from her. "Good-bye."

She moved close to him. "You haven't changed a bit." Her voice was harsh, ugly.

And he suddenly knew she'd try to poison David. That she'd win him back to her world. That Kirk was giving up his son one more time.

Giving him up for a dead man who was closer than a brother. And for a friend who might lose the best part of himself if Kirk did nothing and stayed with Carol.

He touched Carol's face. "I thought you'd changed, too. I guess we were both wrong." Then he turned and walked out of the room, leaving her so he could make plans. So he could get this reckless, career-ending mission started.

He knew she'd be gone by the time he got back.

-------------------

Chapel finished briefing the officer taking her station while she was on leave. He was new, but he'd do fine. Janice would look out for him.

Her friend looked over at her, smiling sadly. "Good luck."

Chapel nodded. She wasn't sure what either of them thought she'd need luck for. But it seemed to fit. It seemed to be the thing to say.

"What are you going to do about Dan?" Jan asked.

"He's not happy with my decision to go away for a while. But he'll survive."

"Are you sure?" Jan was staring hard at her--she knew where Chapel was going. It wasn't just leave, it was leave to Vulcan. Leave to see a no-longer-dead Spock.

"I know you think I'm making a mistake. I just..."

"I know. You have to do this." Jan got up, hugged her. "Go do it, then."

Chapel headed for the main door, where Cartwright was standing as if he was waiting for someone. As she walked past, her travel bag slung over her shoulder, he murmured. "Tell Jim hello for me."

She didn't acknowledge the comment, didn't stop walking. She had not officially told Cartwright she was headed for Vulcan. It was her leave; she could go where she wanted. But he'd guessed, and she was a bit surprised he'd guessed.

Or had Dan told him? Would Dan do that? Would he tell their boss so that Cartwright would keep her from going?

Stopping, she turned and walked back to Cartwright. "How did you know?"

"Dan told me," the admiral said, his eyes hard. "I'm not happy with you."

She nodded, accepting that. "And I'm not happy with him."

"No, I don't imagine you are. I wouldn't be, if I were in your place." Was that a warning note in Cartwright's voice?

"What would you do? If you were in my place?"

"I'd go to Vulcan. And I'd find myself a boyfriend I could trust."

"Maybe I'll do that." She took a deep breath, let it out slowly. "While I'm at it, do you want me to find another assignment when I get back?"

"No. I'm sure there will be other times I'm not happy with you. Doesn't mean I want you to leave." Cartwright smiled tightly.

She smiled back the same way. "Okay."

"Maybe Dan should find a new assignment, though?"

She felt a pang. This wasn't supposed to go this way. She hadn't broken up with Dan, just left him angrier at her than she'd ever seen him. He didn't understand why she had to go to Vulcan. Why she needed to make her peace with a Spock resurrected.

She hadn't told him it was really to see if a Spock resurrected loved her any better than the old one had.

"Dan shouldn't leave" she told Cartwright. "Not if he doesn't want to."

The admiral took her arm, steering her along the corridor, away from ops. "Christine, this is not going to go well. It's why we don't date in the group. Ops isn't a starship. It's a room that gets smaller come crisis time. And you two are falling apart, and it's going to get messy if you both stay in that small room. And maybe that mess will cause you to make mistakes. Mistakes I can't afford. So one of you has to go."

"He didn't ask for this. Make it me, then."

"Don't want to. You're the better officer." He smiled grimly. "And I know that you wouldn't have told me about him, if the situation were reversed."

"No, I wouldn't have." She took a deep breath. "Can you do that? Can you find him a new assignment?"

His smile grew grimmer. "I can do just about anything I want."

"Make it something nice, then? Something that won't look like what this is."

"That won't look like banishment? Okay." Cartwright took a deep breath. "Just...keep a low profile while you're on Vulcan, all right?"

"All right. Thank you."

"Get out of here, Chapel. Before I regret being stupid for my friends."

She obeyed him, hurrying down the corridor to the transporter that would take her to spacedock and the shuttle to Vulcan.

Dan was waiting outside the transporter room. He still looked furious. "I knew he wouldn't stop you. He's Spock's friend. Kirk's buddy."

"Don't blame the admiral."

"I don't. I blame you."

"That's fair. Blame me, then." She pushed past him, felt his hand on her arm but shook it off.

"Christine, did you ever love me?"

Turning, she studied him. She felt a pain of sorts at leaving him. But it was warring with her resolve. With her horrible grief turned to whiplash-inducing relief. With her need to see if this time, maybe, Spock could love her.

"I'm not sure I know what love is. But I know what it isn't. It's not possession. I don't belong to you, and you don't belong to me."

"That's crap. Because you belong to that Vulcan who will never, ever give a damn about you. And you like it. Your sick, twisted, little heart only has room for him. And I knew that. I knew that, and I kept thinking I could slip in. Could find room to carve out my own space. I was an idiot."

He turned and walked away. But he wasn't walking in a very straight line, and Chapel felt a pang for him.

"I never loved you, Dan," she whispered once he had turned the corner. "I'm sorry." Entering the transporter room, she took a deep breath.

"Where to, ma'am?"

"Spacedock." She blinked back tears, surprised that she was crying.

"Are you all right?" Another sweet young man. Why were they so plentiful? Why did they care?

"No. But there's nothing you can do about that." She stepped onto the pad. "Except send me the hell away." She smiled, knew the expression was probably a little scary.

"Godspeed, Commander."

Starfleet Command disappeared and spacedock materialized around her. Stepping off the pad, Chapel began her journey.

---------------

Kirk sat in the shade of the bird-of-prey, staring up at the cliffs where Spock often stood. There was no Spock today. No almost-friend. No shell of the man he'd once known. It was comforting to look up and not see Spock there. It was nice to not be disappointed. To not have to think that Kirk had thrown away everything he cared about for this.

For nothing.

But...not nothing. Spock lived. Bones was himself again. It was a miracle.

A miracle paid for in blood. In his son's blood.

He turned so he wouldn't have to look at the cliffs, and saw dust rising as someone walked toward him. He could just make out a Starfleet uniform and dark hair. He thought it was Chapel, so he got up and walked out to her. When she drew closer, he could tell she was exhausted.

"Here. Sit down." He eased her into the shade, onto the equipment carton he'd been sitting on.

She looked up at him, her expression helpless. God...what had she given up to come here?

"He won't know you," Kirk said. "He won't love you. He isn't himself." The words came out in a rush, as if by tearing them into her, he could spare her the later pain. The greater pain.

"I don't care. I have to try." Her voice was scratchy, so he grabbed his water container and let her drink.

"What about Dan?"

"It's over." She reached up, touching his face, her expression wounded in a way that made him fear a little for her sanity. "What about Doctor Marcus?"

"It's over, too." He sat down next to her. "Cartwright knows you're here?"

"He says hi." She leaned against him, and it felt normal. It felt right.

Putting his arm around her, he pulled her closer, felt her rest her head on his shoulder. "It's bad, Chris. Everything...everything's gone." Everything but the two friends he'd set out to save in the first place.

"You can tell me."

And he did, but he realized she'd fallen asleep against him before he reached the end. He held her, keeping her safe, until McCoy came up and said, "Good god, Jim, is she all right?"

McCoy didn't really want Kirk's opinion, though. He was already hurrying into the bird-of-prey, reemerging with his equipment. Chapel woke up as he scanned her.

&