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) 2004 by Djinn. This story is Rated R.
Commander
by Djinn
Christine begins to search
through the available video on the screen, trying hard to ignore how her hand
is shaking as she looks for shots of the
"It's here, Commander,"
Rasmussen says as he reaches around her, punching in the right number. The science officer moves away again quickly.
"Thank you," she
whispers to his back, then turns back to the screen, where the
She doesn't know for sure
because the brass are being very tightlipped, and even Emergency Ops personnel
are finding it hard to determine what happened.
But that's telling in its own way.
If it's that sensitive, it can only be about one thing: Genesis.
The project she let ruin what
she had with Jim. The project she sold
her soul to. The project that just may
have killed Spock.
Janice comes back into Ops,
walking slowly. She sighs as she gets
closer to the station Christine is sitting at.
"It was bad?"
Christine asks.
"It was worse than
bad. The ship--I understand now why
they're not sending her out again."
Christine wonders if Jim
knows yet that the
She brought him back from
retirement for this?
"Nyota sends her love,"
Janice says.
Janice went up to Spacedock
to watch the ship come in. Used her
lunch and then some to wait for their friends to appear, but Christine doesn't
care. One of them had to watch everyone--or
almost everyone--come safely home. And
Christine suspects she wouldn't have been very welcome.
"Did you see
him?"
Janice nods, turning away
quickly.
Christine reaches out, stops
her progress. "What?"
"He's
devastated." There is still an
oddly evasive look in Janice's eyes.
"Jan, what are you
hiding?" When her friend tries to
turn away again, she says. "Tell
me."
"He wasn't alone,
Christine. When he came out. He was with this blonde. They looked...comfortable together."
Christine sighs. A new woman?
She stole him back from Antonia only to lose him to another woman?
"He introduced her as
Doctor Marcus."
Christine turns slowly, not
able to believe what she is hearing. She
hasn't told Jan the long, terrible saga.
Has alluded to what went on, that she betrayed Jim by keeping something
a secret from him, but she has left out all the crucial details.
Like the name of the woman
who set her up, who made sure Jim found out exactly how much he'd been lied to. She can feel her resentment toward the woman turning
into a fiery hatred. She thought Carol outed her for the sake of the project, but what if she
really just wanted Jim back?
And now, courtesy of Christine,
he is free of Antonia and ready for Carol to make her move.
She wonders who she can ask
about this. In the past, she would have
asked Spock, but--
No, not Spock.
Len then. He will know.
He always knows. "Was Len
with them?"
Janice frowns. "You know, I didn't see him."
Christine turns to the
screen, does a quick search. "Oh
no."
Leaning in over her, Janice
reads the report from the logs Jim has transferred to Command. "Erratic behavior and collapse?"
Christine pushes away from
the terminal. "I'll be at
Medical." At Janice's nod, she
hurries out of Ops and down the maze of corridors that will take her to the
connector wing. Command is confusing,
but she knows the twists and turns of the building by heart.
Medical is busy, and she slips
by the reception desk. She still wears a
small caduceus near her collar, is still authorized access to the area--but it
is customary to check in first.
She doesn't give a rat's ass
what is customary. Not now. Not when Spock is dead. Not when Jim might be rediscovering the
mother of his son--how the hell can he be doing that when Spock is dead and
something is wrong with Len?
She turns the corner and
careens into someone. Whoever it is
reaches out to steady her, and her hands come up to briefly rest on his chest
as she tries not to fall.
"Chris." Jim lets go of her immediately, backs away. Looking behind him at one of the private
rooms, he says, "I guess you heard about Len?"
She nods. "I was coming to check on him."
"That would be
good." His voice is strained,
almost inhumanly so. As if he's being
pushed beyond his ability to bounce back. As if this is the last of a long line
of blows.
"I'm sorry," she
whispers. "Spock..." Anything she could say will be the wrong
thing so she says nothing.
"He gave his life for
the ship. We live because he
doesn't." He brushes at his eyes,
rubbing them hard.
She wants to pull his hands
down, wants to hold him close. She
resists the urge.
"Come on." He walks into the room, not even checking to
see if she is following, which she is of course.
On a good day, she would
follow him anywhere. With him looking so
close to breaking, she would follow him into hell if it meant she could keep
him safe.
Walking to the end of the bed,
she studies the panel that charts Len's progress. He's only been in the room for a short time
yet they have plenty of data to study.
It's one of the ironies of modern medicine--you can have data up the yin
yang, and still know nothing about what is wrong with someone. There is nothing in Len's chart to indicate why
he might be behaving oddly. The only
exceptional readings are some elevated neurotransmitter levels. And those could be from the stress of what he
and Jim and the others have gone through.
She sits down by the bed,
watching as Len moves restlessly before looking at the attending physician's
notes. He's going to release Len, let
him sleep in his own place, far from the controlled chaos that is a
hospital. It's what she would do too.
"Is he going to be all
right?" Jim has moved to the
window, is staring out at the bay.
"I don't
know."
He doesn't say anything, and
Christine begins to feel out of place. She
wonders where Carol is. Have she and Jim
parted ways? Was what Jan saw just a
friendly goodbye? Or will Carol walk
into this room eventually and make the moment even more difficult?
Len mumbles something, and
for one moment his voice sounds eerily like Spock's.
Jim turns, and she sees him
wince. Then he looks over at her. His eyes are filled with some kind of dark
hopelessness, then they fill with something new. Or old rather. The old anger he has toward her.
"You don't have to stay,
Commander. I know you're
busy." He turns back to the
view.
She watches him for a moment,
wanting nothing more than to reach out for him, to hold him and tell him it
will be all right. Even if it won't.
She wants to lie to him. She wants to comfort him. She knows that comfort from her is the last
thing he'll want right now. And he's had
more than enough of her lies.
Sighing, she leaves him alone. Because he's right, she is busy.
And she knows when she's not
wanted.
---------------------------
She watches the big screen, sits
stunned as the
Jim is stealing his ship
back. Jim has clearly lost his mind.
She finds herself rooting for
him anyway.
"Open," she
mutters. "Open."
The doors open just in time,
and the ship heads out.
Jim is gone. She imagines he has taken Len with him. The strange Len who looked at her with such
disconcerting intensity the last time she went to check on him and asked her if
she would like to play Ka'Vareth.
She's not sure what the hell
Jim is doing. But she hopes to god it
helps.
"Excelsior will get
her," she hears someone say.
"Styles will have a thing or two to say about this."
"Yeah," someone
calls back, "but will anyone understand him?"
The room erupts in
laughter. None of them like Styles. Or his stupid riding crop. Christine wishes Janice wasn't off duty--her
friend would enjoy that it is Jim who is making Styles look like a fool. Normally, he just looks like a pompous
ass.
Matthew turns to look at her,
shaking his head and barely hiding the grin on his face. "Jim is one crazy damn coot."
She grins at him. "You have only yourself to blame for
luring him back."
"Don't think I haven't
thought of that." He sits down next
to her, watches as Excelsior moves forward, no doubt preparing for warp. The grand ship makes her move--if jerking
slightly then floating dead in space can be considered much of a move. "Sabotage?"
"I imagine, if you were
to check, Mister Scott would be conspicuously absent from Styles's
crew."
Matthew laughs. "Well, I think I won't check then." He sighs.
"What do you suppose Jim's up to?"
"I'm not sure. But
whatever it is, I'm sure he thinks it is life or death." She remembers Len's voice, deeper, more
gravelly than usual, and sounding so much like Spock's it sent shivers down her
spine.
"I just hope he knows
what he's doing."
"Me too." She leans back. "Styles is going to be on a tear."
"Oh, no
doubt." Shaking his head, Matthew
gets up. "We should forward deploy that
man to the Klingon Empire. It would
bring them down in months rather than years."
She laughs. Being suitable for extended duty on Q'onos is the worst insult Matthew can give. She turns back to her terminal.
"You know, if you're
never going to sit in your office, you're going to lose it. Space is at a premium."
She likes being in the thick
of things. Feels a bit disconnected
inside the office she inherited from Commander Reed. And it's not like Matthew doesn't spend his
share of time loitering in the main area.
"You're just jealous that you don't have a station out here."
"Maybe so,
Christine. Maybe so." He looks up at the big screen again. "I just wish I knew what he was up
to."
A security alert runs across
her screen. Other ships are being
scrambled. "Do you think they'll
catch him?"
Matthew looks at her as if
she's crazy. "Jim Kirk? On his ship?
On one of his damn missions? Not
in a million years." He
smiles. "And it's a cinch he won't
give up. That man never
surrenders."
She remembers Jim jumping the
ravine, remembers the moment he bowed to the inevitable. He surrendered then. But it doesn't count. He was only surrendering to what he really
wanted in the first place: space...and
his ship.
A comm she's been waiting for
from a damage assessment team out in the Fesayan
sector comes in and she smiles.
"Business as usual."
He nods, turning away to let
her read. The news is not good. Five ships hit hard by an unusually wicked
ion storm. The third in as many months. And this time the damage seems awfully
specific. As if the storm deliberately
hit certain areas of the ship. She sends
the comm to Rasmussen, annotates it with, "Does this strike you as normal
ion storm behavior?"
Rasmussen reads the comm then
turns to her, shaking his head. He
messages back, "I'm sending it to the Special Projects department."
She nods. Nobody is quite sure what Special Projects
does when they're not investigating cases like this. Christine isn't sure she wants to know. At any rate, a manmade storm sounds right up
their alley.
"Christine?" a soft
voice purrs in her ear.
She looks up to see
Uhura. "Ny." She points to the chair. "Sit."
"I can't stay
long," Nyota says softly, sitting down tiredly enough to make Christine
wonder what she's been up to. "I'm
bound for Vulcan."
Christine frowns. "Vulcan?
I don't understand. Is there going to be a funeral after all?"
"Sort of. Do you know much about the katra?"
Christine nods. After all the studying she did back in her
infatuation days, she probably knows more than Ny
does about the Vulcan soul.
"Well, I'm not real
clear on the details, but as I understand it, Sarek thinks Spock gave his katra
to McCoy."
Christine nods slowly. That would explain some things. "They're taking him home?"
Nyota nods. "And healing Len in the process,
hopefully."
"There'll be hell to pay
when this is over." Command is not
going to look lightly on this. But when
has that ever stopped Jim?
Nyota gets up. "I have to go. Sarek is waiting for me." She touches Christine's shoulder. "I wish you were coming with us. I wish you were still with Jim."
"Me too, Ny."
She watches her friend hurry
out, tries not to envy her for still being in Jim's inner circle.
It is a futile attempt.
----------------------
The wind is whipping outside
the windows of Emergency Ops, rain streaming down the glass as if someone has
turned a hose on it. The humidity in the
room has reached unbearable levels--it might as well be raining inside
too. Calling the moisture that beads
across the terminals and makes the fabric of their chairs ooze liquid "condensation"
is like calling V'Ger a "little probe."
Christine tries to wipe off
the screen, looks over to where Matthew is conferring with the Federation
President.
"May I assist you in any
way?" Sarek's voice is calm.
"You want to wipe off
the monitor? Because that's all the good
I'm really doing." She smiles, a
sad, realistic smile. They may all be dead
soon. But in the meantime, she'd like to
read the comms while they still flow across the
screen.
Sarek sits down. The chair sloshes as he does so, and his
eyebrow goes up as if in distaste.
"Nice digs we have here,
huh?" She laughs softly, is
surprised to see his expression lighten.
He looks down at his sodden
robe. "My appearance is also
somewhat the worse for wear."
"I'm sorry I got you
into this." She should never have
called him, never asked him to be an advocate for Jim.
"You did what you
thought best. Kirk needed someone to
speak for him, and I owed him a debt for bringing my son back to me."
"You didn't owe him your
life though." She doesn't want to
think of dying. Not when Jim is
somewhere in the past on a wild goose chase.
Or wild whale chase.
She wonders how many women he
will charm on that chase. Too many
probably. At least, they'll stay in the
past when he brings his oceanic bounty to the future. How the hell do you bring a whale home in a
Klingon bird-of-prey? She smiles, imagines
Jim saying, "Very carefully."
"He'll save us,"
she says softly, not sure which of them she is trying to convince.
Sarek considers that. "If anyone can, I think the odds favor
him. But even so, the odds are not
good."
"I know. But Jim doesn't play the odds. He just wins."
"That has been his
history." He studies her, his
scrutiny making her slightly uncomfortable.
"He lost you, however."
She looks down. "No. I lost him. That's worse."
"Ah. I am sorry.
The end of a relationship is often painful."
She is surprised at his
choice of words, frowns. "For a
human, you mean?"
"Vulcans are not
incapable of feeling pain, Christine." His voice, as he calls her by name, is very
sad. "Perhaps if you had come to
Vulcan after the Fal-tor-Pan you might have won him
back? Kirk was, I think, very much
alone."
"Even with your son's
rebirth?" She smiles. It is the
miracle story of the century. Spock is
alive. She wishes her guilt would die
with his resurrection. But it hasn't.
"My son is
not...himself. The refusion
was a success, and yet Spock is different."
"I see." She thinks of the Ka'Vareth games she and
Spock have shared, the minty Vulcan tea he taught her
to enjoy. The way he planned Jim's
recapture. All those things, all the
other things she shared with him over the years. Are they really all gone?
She and Sarek might be gone
if Jim doesn't strike gold. Christine sends
Amanda a silent apology for bringing her husband to Earth just to die. Not that she meant to. She only wanted him to
testify for Jim and the others. His
voice carries weight. She knew the
Council would listen to him. She would
do it again if she had to.
Even if it means that he dies
with her in this damn storm caused by that damn probe. She wishes someone would turn the sound of
its sing-song call down--or better yet off.
She glances over at
Sarek. Wonders if he is worried about
who will carry his katra home if they are all killed. He appears serene, composed.
Matthew walks over. He stands behind her chair, reading the few comms that are getting through the interference. The damage is getting worse. She feels his fingers on the back of her
neck, gently squeezing. Reaching up, she
lays her hand over his, pressing down for a long moment. She sees that Sarek takes in their
interaction, but he does not seem surprised--or offended.
She is glad she is dying
among friends.
"Is there anything I can
do, Admiral?" Sarek asks.
"Send Jim Kirk some
luck?"
"Vulcans do not believe
in luck."
Matthew laughs. It is a laugh tinged with exhaustion. "Then send him some logic,
Ambassador. I'm sure he can use that
too."
Someone calls for him, and Matthew hurries to the other side of the room. Christine turns back to the comms, sees the screen go black. "So much for primary communications." She watches as the techs try to link into the
backup system. It does not look like
things are going any better for them than for the techs trying to shore up the windows.
She takes a deep breath,
forcing herself to relax.
"My son thought very
highly of you, Christine," Sarek says out of the blue. It is a surprising statement, almost a gift.
They must be doomed.
She sighs. "I think highly of him too." Laughing slightly, she says, "He thought
I could win Jim back."
"He knows Kirk
well. Perhaps he is right." His eyes are very gentle. "It is something to live for, is it
not?"
"Do you think I need
that?"
"Everyone needs that,
Christine." Sarek stands up. "I think the President could use my
assistance."
She smiles. "Thank you."
"I did nothing."
"We both know better
than that."
She turns back to the black
screen, glances over at Janice who is trying to help the techs with the
uplinks. The screens wink back into
service just as a dull roar and then a loud crack fill the room. One of the windows shatters, rain and wind
pouring in.
"Look!" Sarek suddenly says loudly enough for them to
hear over the roar of the storm. He points
out through the murk. Vulcan eyes must
be as sharp as that famous hearing.
She sees a bird-of-prey roar
toward the bridge. "Lower,"
she sends to whoever is piloting her.
"Lower."
The ship drops just enough to clear the bridge, then crashes in the water. She can't see anything as the storm seems to
intensify.
Then it stops.
The silence is eerie. She can hear the ping of comms
coming in again, the sound of people moving in their chairs.
She looks over at Sarek. He nods in satisfaction. Matthew is grinning like a damn fool.
Janice walks past her toward
her terminal.
"He did it, Jan."
Her friend laughs. "Like there was ever any
doubt?"
Christine smiles. If there was doubt, there shouldn't have
been. This is Jim Kirk. He saves the day. Every time.
And lives to tell the tale. Or
lives to let others tell it for him. He
doesn't like to blow his own horn.
It's just one reason why he's
a hero.
-------------------------
Christine steps away from her
friends, glances over at Gillian. She
wants to hate this woman that hitchhiked back with Jim, but she's finding it
difficult to. She's too full of energy
and good-natured awe. Christine doesn't want to imagine what Jim might see when
he looks at Gillian.
Gillian looks over at her. "It was nice meeting you,
Christine."
"Good luck catching
up."
The woman makes a face and fingers the badge on her clothes. She'll be gone soon. The thought makes Christine both sad and
happy. She thinks she could have enjoyed
Gillian's company. She worries Jim might
already be enjoying it.
As Gillian walks away, toward
Jim who seems to be looking for her, Christine sighs.
"Don't worry. I told her he was spoken for."
Christine turns, sees Nyota
grinning madly. "You did
what?"
Uhura shrugs. "The concept of the rebound spans the
centuries, Christine. Gillian doesn't
want that. Was that wrong and bad of
me?"
"Yes." Christine grins. "And thanks."
Nyota's smile fades as she turns to Christine. "You two belong together. I believe that." She sighs.
"But I don't see that either of you are trying particularly hard to
get back together."
"It's not that
simple." Christine looks away, over
to where Gillian is brushing Jim's cheek with her lips. He is staring at her forlornly. As if he can't believe she is leaving.
How much does he care about
this woman?
"Not that simple?"
Nyota says, shaking her head. "He's
been back in Starfleet for months. What
are you waiting for?"
Christine tenses as Jim looks
over at her. Their eyes meet, his are stony,
still sad from Gillian's departure. He
doesn't look at all glad to see her. She
can feel her own smile fading.
Jim appears to hate her. Spock barely knows her, although he seemed to
be trying to remember who she was as they stood talking before the
hearing. David is dead, killed by a
Klingon in cold blood. All her fault,
somehow. She feels the guilt as if it
was a heavy weight strapped around her neck.
At least Len is back to
normal. His hug was warm and
welcoming. No lasting damage to him,
thank god.
"Christine. He won't wait forever."
"He's not waiting now, Ny. I'll see you
soon, okay?"
"Ops is calling?"
Christine nods. It is an easier answer than saying her heart
is breaking with each moment she stays in the room. With each moment that the man she still loves
pretends she is not even there.
He has not said one word to
her, not even when she was standing right next to him after the judgment was
announced.
She didn't try to talk to him
either. Could see in his eyes the
message to stay away.
Far away.
She obliges him and flees
with as much grace as she can.
She somehow manages not to
look back.
Ops is bustling with the
verdict, the wonderful punishment that isn't any hardship. Jim will get his ship back. A ship that should have had another name
painted on it but at the last minute was christened Enterprise. Matthew told her, made her promise not to
tell Jim.
As if that would happen. She'd have to
get close to him to spill the beans. And
it's clear that close is exactly where Jim doesn't want her to be.
Janice comes in and wanders
over. "You okay?"
She sniffs in bitter
amusement. "Sure."
"Not very
convincing."
"First Carol, now
Gillian. You think I should be clueing
in to something? Like maybe Jim doesn't
want me anymore?"
Janice sits down. "Maybe he doesn't. What then?" She's not saying it to be mean. Just working out a scenario. It's what they do in ops.
Christine shrugs. "I guess I move on." At Janice's look, she shakes her head. "I know, I know. It's what you've been telling me to do for
some time." She looks up at the big
screen. For once, all is quiet, nothing
threatening. "Is it okay if I don't
make any major life changes today?"
Janice squeezes her
shoulder. "It's okay if you don't
make any ever. It's up to you to decide what
you want."
"So waiting
forever? You think that's an
option?"
"I don't know. You have to figure that out. I can't." Giving her a small smile, Janice goes back to
her station.
Christine stares down at her
comm queue, not even seeing the messages.
Jim may never forgive her. Is she
really going to wait forever for him?
Christine is bent over
Rasmussen's station, watching a crippled freighter pull into spacedock when she
feels someone nudge her. She glances
over her shoulder, sees Janice staring at the entrance.
"Little busy here,
Jan." She turns back to the
terminal.
"Christine." Something in Janice's voice makes her turn
around, look at the entrance.
Jim stands there; he is watching
her. They stare at each other for a long
time, then he motions with his head for her to join him. The way he used to when they were newly in
love and he still trusted her, still wanted to spend time with her.
She feels anger rise inside
her. A sudden contrary urge makes her
plant her feet.
Jim's expression doesn't
change, but she has the sense he is not surprised that she isn't moving.
"Christine, don't be an
idiot. One of you has to blink." When Christine doesn't answer, Janice says,
"Isn't this what you wanted?" She
pushes her gently toward the door.
"Go to him. Or so help me god, I'll kill you."
Taking her headset off, Christine
lays it down and walks over to him.
"Captain."
"Commander." He's not smiling. "I thought you might be free for
lunch?"
She nods slowly.
"We need to talk,"
he says.
"We've needed to talk
for some time. You weren't interested in
talking." She tries to bite down
the anger that keeps rising, knows some of it is because she feels so damn
guilty every time she looks at him.
He takes her arm, probably
looks like the perfect gentleman, but his grip is steel. "Come on."
"What if I don't want
to?"
"Then you never should
have jumped that damn ravine."
"That was some time ago,
Jim."
"Yes. It was."
He shoots her an annoyed look.
"Time heals all wounds."
"Does it?"
"So they say." He looks at her again, his eyes giving
nothing away. He doesn't let go of her
as he steers them down the corridor toward the exit.
"I guess we're not going
to eat in the mess?"
"No." He glances at her. "Somewhere more private."
"How private?" She tries to pull away.
He lets her go. "Not that private."
She stops, and he does
too. They stare at each other, and
finally she indicates he should lead on.
He does not try to take her arm; she almost wishes that he would. She feels off balance. Very confused.
Why now? Why does he want to talk to her
now? He's been gone, out in space on his
shiny new ship. A shiny new ship that
didn't prove very able, given the reports she's read. And a first mission that turned into a bit of
a fiasco. She's pretty sure having his
ship hijacked was not the pinnacle of Jim's week.
She slows as they approach
the exit. "I'm not hungry,"
she says, her tone abrupt, the words coming out as one rushed sound.
"Fine. We'll walk then."
"Fine." She glances over at him.
His jaw is set, his eyes look
angry. He turns to meet her gaze and she
can see that he is indeed angry. Very
angry.
Looking down, she stops
walking. "Jim, if you just want to
yell at me. Do it here."
"Why would I yell at
you?"
She sighs. "For all the things you're still angry
at. For my not telling you the
truth. For betraying you. For working on the project with Carol and
with David. For using
protomatter--"
He looks startled; this is
clearly a surprise. "Protomatter? You were involved with that?"
She nods. "I was the one who worked the closest
with David. I told you that back when I
gave you that damned tour. I was
supposed to be the voice of reason, but all I did was egg him on. We were like two kids in the science
equivalent of the candy shop. We played
with fire; we thought we were gods. What
more do you want me to say?"
"It was your idea?"
She looks down, feels a pang
as if she is betraying the dead.
"No, it was his. But a long
time ago, I wrote about it in my dissertation. And he found that. He found me.
I did tell you about that...sort of."
"At the
conference?" It sounds like it is
all coming together for him. "And
then you stopped telling me much of anything about your work."
She nods. "So you see, my betrayal goes back even
farther than you thought." She
takes a step away from him. "I'm
truly irredeemable."
"I'll be the judge of
that."
"The judge of me, you
mean? Well, why not? I hurt you the most, after all. Your son's dead, your best friend was dead,
your ship was destroyed. You nearly lost
your life and your career, and Len nearly lost his mind. What didn't I destroy because I let a young
man talk me into doing exactly what I wanted to do?" She turns away from him, sits down on a
nearby bench.
He sits down next to her.
"I have a lot to answer
for, Jim."
"Yes. You do.
But not to me. Not about the
protomatter, anyway. That's between you
and your conscience, Chris."
She turns to him, frowns.
"But the
other...David..." He sighs. "I find myself in an odd
position." He's not looking at her,
as if it's easier to talk if he doesn't have to really see her. "Someone I cared about, someone I loved,
who I trusted implicitly, betrayed me.
Kept something from me and did some things that put my life and my ship
at risk."
She looks down.
"Not you, Chris. Spock."
She turns to him. Confused.
"Spock did?"
"In this latest
mission." He sees her look and
waves her questions away. "It's a
long story. Suffice it to say that I
forgave him. And now I'm wondering why I
can forgive him and not you?"
She laughs. It is a bitter sound. "Maybe because you want to forgive him
and you don't want to forgive me?"
The sound only grows more cutting as she laughs again. "Maybe I'm not worth forgiving?"
"You're really wallowing
in this, aren't you?" His tone is
sharp, he's not joking.
"I should have stopped David. And now he's dead and the whole thing was a disaster." She wipes an angry tear away. "I knew it couldn't work, and I didn't
stop him."
"Protomatter? You knew protomatter couldn't
work?" His voice is hushed, this
discussion is forbidden, but they are having it anyway. Genesis is a dead subject, yet he is going to
let her talk about it. Finally, someone
will let her talk about it.
She is glad he didn't want to
eat in the mess. "Yes, I knew protomatter
was unstable, but that didn't stop me from helping David add it to the mix so
that Genesis would actually work, so that it really would create life from
lifelessness."
"And it did."
"Not for long. The planet destroyed itself."
He moves closer, drops his
voice even more. "Spock probably
can explain this better than I can, but it did work, Chris. I saw the cave on Regula." His eyes seem very far away, he smiles. "It was a paradise. A stable paradise."
She waves his words
away. "Small scale. But when Khan set it loose on a planet, then
it failed."
"Khan didn't set it
loose on a planet. Khan set the Genesis
device off on the Reliant. In the middle
of the Mutara Nebula."
"There wasn't a
planet?"
He shakes his head. "The Genesis Planet was formed from the
matter within the nebula, and the debris of what was left of the Reliant."
She sits back. "But when they debriefed us, they said
the planet was dangerously unstable."
"Yes, inherently
so. Carol told me that you had to tweak
the mix numerous times before you were confident that the Genesis Cave could be
attempted. She said that the system
tended toward its original state."
She nods. "It was the protomatter that pulled it
forward, kept it moving toward growth, not back toward lifelessness."
"It's mind-boggling to imagine
the force strong enough to pull matter in from the nebula and create a world,
even though that matter was trying to return to its original unfettered
state."
She looks at him. "The
matter was never meant to be together.
It was the base material that was unstable, not the protomatter in this
case."
He nods. "The protomatter did its job. It worked.
There was a paradise there, for a short time anyway. If it had been a real planet you tried it on,
it might have been a paradise forever."
Smiling at her, he says, "It worked, Chris. You and David did it." He laughs.
"And no one will ever believe you."
"No one should. It's too dangerous. Too likely to be turned into a weapon. Let them think it's a failure." But she smiles, a long, satisfied smile
before she turns to him in alarm.
"Carol will figure it out."
He shakes his head. "Carol doesn't know about the
protomatter. I don't plan to tell
her--neither does Saavik, and David never did tell her. The project has been shut down. You're the only one left who can tell her
that her life's work wasn't a failure."
He looks at her. "Will
you?"
"No." It's not just because she feels she owes Carol
some pain for setting her up. It really
is too great a risk. "No. She'll
never hear it from me." She
frowns. "But it doesn't
matter. I know her. She'll start to look
at the notes we left."
He looks down. "Starfleet wiped the computers...in her
lab, and on Regula."
"She'll have
backups."
"Maybe. But no one to talk to about it. Genesis is a dead issue."
They sit quietly on the
bench.
Finally, she turns to
him. "Thank you for telling
me."
He nods.
"I guess you have a ship
to get back to?"
He nods again.
She smiles, knows it is a sad
smile. "I do wish you well,
Jim." Getting up, she starts to
walk away.
"Don't you want to know
if I'm going to forgive you?"
She stops walking, but
doesn't turn around. "Are you
going to?"
"Should I?" He is moving towards her.
"Answering a question
with a question isn't very clever, Jim.
Not after all the time we've spent together."
He moves closer. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."
"You think I
won't?" She turns, stares at
him. "I don't have much left to
show you. Pain and guilt, anger and
loneliness, and mostly how I've had to move on."
"Did you move on?"
"I don't know, but you
did. The lovely Antonia." Her voice is bitter.
"And you and
Matthew?"
She looks down. "It didn't work."
"Why not?" He has moved closer again.
"He knows my heart is
already spoken for. Even if you don't
want me anymore." She takes a step
back, suddenly uncomfortable that he is standing so close.
She is afraid she will reach
out for him. That she will make an ass
of herself. That if she touches him,
she'll never, ever let go.
"Would you like to have
dinner tonight?" His voice is
gentle.
She looks at him, studies his face. The
anger seems to have receded. He is
waiting for her answer.
"Chris?
His eyes are boring into
hers, and she can't look at him, can't face him. "I'm still in love with you, Jim. I don't think I can just be your
friend."
"Fine." He doesn't move.
She looks up at him,
perplexed. "Fine?"
"Fine, you can't just be
my friend. But that's not an answer to
my question. Dinner? Tonight?" He suddenly grins at her and it is the old
look, the old grin that she didn't think he'd ever give her again. But it fades quickly.
"Yes. I'd like that."
"Good." He touches her hand. "I'm not sure where we're going with
this. And I intend to take it slow. I don't trust you yet. You understand that?"
"What makes you think I
trust you?"
His mouth tightens. "Touche." He stares at her, seems to be waiting for her
to look away. He is disappointed.
"Reconsidering?"
she asks.
"No." He sighs, as if he's already tired of sparring
with her. "I'll pick you up at
seventeen hundred."
As he turns to walk way, she
calls out, "Why?"
He looks back at her. "Why what?"
"Why are you willing to
forgive me?"
"I didn't say I
was."
"Well, why are you even
thinking about it?"
He looks at her like she is
an idiot. "Because I've missed you. Despite everything."
She can feel a smile
beginning, one of her old smiles from before everything went to hell. "Oh."
"That's all you have to
say? Oh?" He chuckles.
"Work on those conversation skills before dinner comes around,
Commander. I didn't fall in love with
you because you're monosyllabic."
He turns and walks away.
She stares at him until he
disappears from sight.
-----------------------------
Christine is aware that
Janice is staring at her, has been since she came in from her talk with
Jim. Matthew too has glanced out of his
office more times than is strictly necessary.
She ignores them.
And tries to ignore how fast
her heart is racing.
She manages to settle down,
works productively until the shift is over.
"Everything
okay?" Janice is smiling
tentatively. "You weren't out there
very long?"
Christine knows she waited
until the end of the day to ask so that if it was bad, she wouldn't upset
Christine during the shift. Jan's a good
friend.
"He wants to have
dinner."
"He wants to have dinner,
and you didn't tell me? When are you
going?"
Christine looks over at the
entrance; he's just walked in.
"Right about now."
"Do not sleep with
him."
"Jan. It's just dinner." She grins, knows she is not fooling either of
them. This is far more than just
dinner. It's another chance.
She hopes.
"Jim." Matthew walks out of his office, clasps
Kirk's hand warmly. "So how's the
new ship?"
Jim shakes his head. "She needs some work." He glances over at Christine, as if to say
they need some work too.
"I repeat. Do not sleep with him."
Christine just laughs. "I'll see you tomorrow." She walks
over to the two men.
"Going out?"
Matthew asks. His smile looks genuine,
and he pushes her gently toward Jim.
"Have fun. Don't keep her
out too late." Then he turns and
walks back in his office.
"Shall we?" Jim's
look is warier than she likes.
"We don't have to do
this. If you're having second thoughts,
I mean."
"Chris, I've had third,
fourth, and fifth thoughts. Let's
go."
She smiles, tries to figure
out if fifth thoughts ends the debate in her favor or not. Decides it must if he's walking with her into
town.
She suddenly wishes she could
change, feels grungy and a bit dowdy in her uniform. She decides not to ask him if they can stop
at her apartment just so she can pull on something that actually makes her feel
pretty.
She's not sure she has
anything that will cut it anyway. She's
nervous and excited and afraid that this is all going to blow up in her face,
and she'll lose him again before she ever has him back.
"You don't need to look
as though we're going to a funeral," he murmurs.
"Sorry." She laughs softly, looks down. "I'm nervous."
"I thought you got over
being nervous around me?"
"That was when we were
together. We're not together."
"No. We're not." He glances at her. "I'm not sure what I want to do about
this, Chris."
She looks away, pretends to
be mesmerized by the merchandise in the shop windows they are passing. "Gillian causing complications?"
"Gillian?" He laughs then. "Gillian Taylor? No.
She's gone."
Christine nods, but it is a
weak gesture. The other woman may be
gone, but that doesn't mean she won't turn back up. Or that Jim couldn't find her if he
wanted. Couldn't have her transferred to
the Enterprise if he wanted.
Her expression must be
terribly morose, for he actually takes pity on her. "I'm not interested in Gillian,
Chris."
"That's not how it
looked from the peanut gallery."
"Trust me on this. Gillian is gone."
"Okay."
"Well, two
syllables. It's an improvement over
'oh,' I guess." He grins at her.
She tries to smile back, but
knows the expression doesn't quite hit the mark. His own look softens, and he reaches over,
touches her commander's bars gently.
"I saw you get
these."
"You did?" She supposes it's possible. She got the promotion just after Jim got
back, after she took over from Reed. "You
were in the audience for someone else?"
He shakes his head. "I came to see you. I'm proud of you. Despite it all..." His expression shifts, and he doesn't look proud
of her. He looks disappointed in
her. And still angry.
She wishes she could pull him
close and hug him to her and tell him again how sorry she is and how much she
loves him and how she'll do anything to make it up to him. But she just keeps walking. "I didn't know you were there."
"I know. I left before the reception." He sighs.
She nods, feels a sharp pit
of misery starting in her stomach. She's
not sure this is a good idea. Maybe all
they're doing is bringing up old pain?
She stops walking.
He stops too, as if he knew
she was going to. He stares at her, and
she knows the look she is giving him is anything but happy. She feels...hopeless. Lost and more alone standing here with him
than she has for a long time.
She backs up, toward the
entryway of the closed shop she stopped in front of. She wishes the shop was open. She would flee inside. She would run out the back and try to forget
how much she loves him and how much it hurts that he may never let her in
again.
He moves closer, trapping her
in the entranceway, and takes her hand.
His skin is warm against hers.
"It's okay, Chris."
She realizes she is shaking,
tries to pull her hand away, but he won't let her. "Jim..."
"I know." He pulls her close, wraps his arms around
her. "I know."
She is stiff, but he doesn't
let go, just runs his hands up and down her back the way he used to until she
relaxes against him.
She whispers, "I'm so
afraid that I'm going to lose you again.
Before you even give me a chance."
She pulls away, and this time he lets her go--probably because there is
nowhere she can run in the small space.
"If you can't forgive me, then let's just say goodbye now and cut
our losses."
"I don't know if I can
forgive you."
"That's crap, Jim. You either can or you can't. You just may not want to."
His eyes widen, and she realizes he's never heard her use her command
voice. She laughs and he laughs and
suddenly the moment is a little bit lighter.
"Remind me not to piss
you off, Commander." He touches her
face, and she closes her eyes at the feeling.
"Too late for
that." She stares at him. "I'm not sure I can forgive you for
Antonia."
"I thought you were
cheating on me."
"I wasn't."
He nods. "I know that now. You weren't very convincing back then. You didn't even want to make love,
Chris. You didn't want me anymore."
"That's not true. I never stopped wanting you."
"Well, you stopped
having sex with me. I'm sorry, but the
distinction is a bit fuzzy, especially when you're the one being rejected."
"I know. I'm sorry." Sorry seems to be all she is saying. She wonders if it means anything to him. Sighing, she eyes the door again. Could she break in?
He touches her face, and then
his hand keeps moving, under her ear, tracing her uniform collar, to the back
of her neck. He pulls her toward
him. "Chris."
And then he is kissing her,
and she is lost in the feeling, and clutching at him, and she is glad that she
can lean against the door of the shop so her legs don't give out on her as he
pushes against her.
She can tell he still wants
her.
He pulls away, and his
expression is troubled. "I wasn't
going to do that."
She smiles, her lips trembling
slightly. "No?"
Shaking his head, he looks as though he's a little disappointed in
himself.
"Is it so bad that you
did it?"
He nods. But then he reaches
out and touches her cheek again.
"If I touch you, I won't want to stop."
"Who says you have to
stop?" She grins, trying to make
the moment a little less serious, his expression a little less dire. She takes his hand. "I'm hungry."
She is hungry, but she'd
rather be kissing him. But she knows
that what she wants to do and what she should do are two different things where
he's concerned. "Let's eat, okay?"
He leans in, rests his cheek
against hers. "I've missed you
so." Then he pulls her out of the
doorway and back onto the sidewalk.
"Food then."
"Yes. Food."
His grip tightens on hers, and she finally begins to relax.
Maybe, just maybe, they can
make this work again.
-----------------------------
Christine sees Jim in the
corridor coming out of ops with Matthew.
She nods at him as she and Jan pass him, and he nods back.
"I don't get it,"
Janice says. "You said dinner went
fine?"
"It did. Kind of stiff at times when we strayed into
painful ground. But fine other than that."
"It's been two
days." Janice looks back. "What the hell is he doing?"
Christine has been wondering
that herself. Dinner was nice,
especially once they finally relaxed enough to have some fun with each
other. Jim walked her home, gave her a
quick hug, and left.
Actually, fled might be more
accurate. Was he afraid she would attack
him right there on the street like some sex-crazed ex-fiancee?
Not that the thought didn't
occur to her. "He said he was going
to take it slow."
"Yeah, but this is
geologic."
Christine laughs. She's been thinking the same thing.
She knows he's not sure of
her. He can't ever be sure of her
again. That may be a deal breaker. Only why wasn't it a deal breaker for Spock?
"Maybe he just wants you
so badly that he knows he won't be able to control himself. So he's staying away."
"Right." Christine says, but she thinks he is testing
her. He wants to see what she will do if
he really does take it slow, like he said he was going to. She sighs.
What does he think she will do?
She'll wait and see what happens.
Nothing else she can do.
Janice pulls up the comms. "Didn't
you raise Peterson's access level?"
"Last week."
"Well, he's commed three times asking for clearance to the
delta-three-one project."
Christine sighs. "The man is an idiot. He can't figure out anything without a guided
map." She sends a message down to
security. Morhaven
will enjoy dealing with this one.
"He'll get the special briefing."
Janice laughs. "You're siccing
Russ on him?"
"Yep." She grins.
"We have enough to do without stupid-ass captains who can't find
their butt without a--what?"
Janice's eyes have gone wide.
"Is there a problem,
Commander?" Peterson has decided to
pay a visit.
She turns. "Yes, Captain, there is. You keep asking for accesses that we sent you
a week ago. I believe Admiral Cartwright
wanted you to read in on the project before you reported."
"I'd love to have read
in, but I never got my accesses."
He gives her the snotty look that is just one of the things that got him
booted off the Louisville. Everyone in
ops knows he's planet-bound because Command can't figure out what to do with
him. "Perhaps you could just
download the project data into a padd for me."
"Sorry, sir. This information isn't portable. Why don't you look again to see if the
accesses are there?" She tries for
a slightly conciliatory tone. He does
outrank her. Even if it's a crime that
he outranks anyone.
"I don't need to. Not when it's your screw-up."
She points to a
terminal. "Why don't you log
in? We'll look for it together."
Her tone is no longer very nice.
His expression changes. "I don't have time now. I'll do it later."
"No, you're absolutely
right. This is urgent. Let's look now. If I've screwed up, I'll fall all over myself
apologizing." She gives him a hard smile.
She knows he is hedging.
He looks down. "I seem to have misplaced my
password."
God. What else has the man missed in the comms? And why were
they giving him access to anything the least bit sensitive?
She forces her face to stay
neutral. "Commander Morhaven stands ready to assist."
Peterson actually goes
pale. He may outrank the security head,
but no one is meaner than Russ when he's dealing with incompetence and shoddy
security practices. "Is that really
necessary?"
She shrugs. "I've done my bit. If you can't get in, he'll have to get you a
new password. I'm not authorized to do
that." It's a lie. She can hand out passwords to anyone and
everyone if she needs to. But she saves
that for emergencies. She doesn't like
to deal with Russ's lectures about access control either.
"I don't like you,
Commander," Peterson says, not noticing Matthew coming back into ops, not
hearing him walk up behind him.
"Duly noted,
Peterson," Matthew says in his quiet voice--the dangerous one.
Peterson turns even paler
than before as he turns to the admiral.
"Sir. I only meant--"
"Oh, your words were
self-explanatory, Captain." The
derision Cartwright puts on the title is impressive.
Christine smiles at him. "Captain Peterson was just on his way
down to see Russ."
"Lucky him." Matthew is speaking as if Peterson is already
gone. When he sees the other man still
standing there, he gives him one of the famous Cartwright glares. "Don't let us stop you."
They watch as Peterson walks
out, his feet nearly dragging as he heads for the security office.
"Damned fool. I told Command they should give him to the
Klingons. He'd bring the Empire down in
a heartbeat."
She laughs. "I thought you were
giving them Styles."
"The list is
expanding." He grins at her. "Did you piss him off on purpose?"
"I might have."
He shakes his head. "One of these days, Christine..."
She gives him her best
"I learned it from James T. Kirk" grin.
He laughs. "Don't try to Kirk me, woman. I know you too well. And him too."
She wishes Matthew could tell
her what is going on between Jim and her then, if he knows the two of them so
damn well. But it seems unfair to ask
him given the feelings he may still have for her.
He gestures vaguely to the
front screen. "See if you can't
find Peterson a nice planet close to the border. Where have the Klingons been active
lately?"
As if he doesn't know that by
heart?
"I'll get right on that,
sir." She laughs. Knows he is kidding about Peterson. Mostly.
She waits until he goes into
her office and then hurries to her station to double check that she did send
Peterson the accesses. The memo is
there, just like she knew it would be.
Sighing, she gets back to
something that actually resembles an emergency.
-------------------------------
"Commander Chapel?"
Turning, she sees Spock at a
table in the mess. She walks over,
unsure why he wanted to see her.
"Please. Sit."
She does, then looks
around. There are very few people in the
mess hall--lunch has been over for hours and the dinner rush hasn't started.
Jim comes out of the serving
area, carrying two cups of coffee.
"Spock, are you sure you want your coffee this way?" He sees her and stops in his tracks, coffee
sloshing a bit.
It's been a week since she
had dinner with him.
Not that she's keeping track.
She stands up. "I must have misunderstood, Spock. Did you mean some other day?"
He stands up and pushes her
gently back into the chair.
"No. I meant
today." Walking over to Jim, he
takes one of the coffees from him and sets it down in front of her. "If I remember correctly, you prefer it
with cream and sugar?"
Jim squints at him. "I knew you didn't like sugar."
"The Fal-tor-Pan
is quite a useful excuse. For many
occasions." Spock indicates the
seat he's just vacated. "Please sit."
Jim sits.
She tries not to smile.
Spock looks down at them and
shakes his head. "The Enterprise
will be here for another three weeks. I
see no logic in the two of you avoiding each other." He starts to walk away.
"Spock." Jim's voice is almost panicked.
Spock turns and nearly
sighs. "I was not aware you were
afraid of anything, Jim." He looks
at her. "Perhaps you should ask him
about the scar on his arm?" Then he
does walk away, more quickly than normal.
Jim slides his arm off the
table.
"Show me?"
He sips at his coffee.
"Jim."
"It's nothing."
"I could come around and
take a look for myself."
He looks up at her, and she
sees the anger again. "You could
try."
"Forget it. Forget this." She stands up and hurries out of the mess,
leaving her coffee cup for him to deal with.
Spock is waiting
outside. "That did not go as I
hoped."
She glares at him. "What were trying to do?"
"Help you."
She gets in close, nearly in
his face. "Why?"
Nearly frowning, he says, "You
are my friend. I do remember that
now."
She laughs bitterly. "It was my fault you died. Do you remember that?"
"While you were involved in the events leading up to my death, you do not
carry the sole blame. And it is a diffuse trail, with many bends along the
way. You did not, for example, have
anything to do with Khan."
"He wouldn't have gotten
loose if Reliant hadn't been there; Reliant wouldn't have been there but for
Genesis. And Genesis wouldn't have
reached the stage it did but for my work with David."
"True, but have you
considered another scenario? Khan might
have freed himself from his prison some other way. He might still have come after Jim. I might still have died trying to protect
him, only there would have been no Genesis planet to bring me back to
life. You cannot know how much you do or
do not bear blame in this." He gently
pushes her back. "Christine, if you do not mind?"
Jim comes barreling out of
the mess, sees her and stops.
"Ah. Jim.
Perhaps you are on your way to see Christine now that you have had time
to reflect on her hasty departure? As
you can see, she has not run far."
It is clear from Spock's tone that he considers them both idiots.
Jim glares at her. "Come back in."
She glares right back. "Give me one good reason I should."
His lips tighten, and he
starts to turn away.
"Humans are
fascinating. You both want each other quite
badly, yet you will not admit it."
"Stay out of this,
Spock." Jim is clearly pissed.
She's no slouch in the short
fuse department either. "Don't take
it out on him. At least he has balls
enough to talk to me."
"You know, emergency ops
has not helped your demeanor."
"Well, I'm sorry you
don't like my demeanor." She is
about to turn away when she feels Spock's hand on her back urging her into the
mess.
"I would like to issue a
challenge. How is it Doctor McCoy puts
it? Oh yes. I double dog dare you both to sit for fifteen
minutes and talk. Preferably with a
minimum of histrionics."
She glares at Jim again. When Spock is reduced to spouting southern
dares, they really have fallen to an all time low. She can see by Jim's face that he is thinking
the same thing, so she walks into the mess and sits back down at their
table. The coffee is still there and she
sips at it.
Jim comes in a moment
later. He sits down and angrily pulls up
his sleeve. There is a long scar near
his wrist.
"Ouch."
He nods.
"Rock climbing?"
she asks. "Still working up to El
Capitan?"
"I was on El
Capitan. Unfortunately, I wasn't on it
quite long enough."
"You fell?"
He nods, then shrugs. "Spock was there. To the rescue. I didn't die."
"You could
have." She stares at the scar. "When did this happen?"
"After the
hearing."
She looks down. "Were you that unhappy? Even with a new ship and your career handed
back to you? You only take the extreme
risks when you're past caring."
"I wasn't--" He sees her look and his mouth tightens. He takes a deep breath, then says softly, "I
was alone... or I felt that way."
He sighs. "I left Antonia
after you came to Idaho." He waits
until she looks up at him to continue.
"I didn't have to. She and I
could have made it work, I think, even with me back in Starfleet."
The idea of that hurts. She doesn't like how much it hurts. "Then why didn't you stay with her if it
was so goddamned blissful?"
He sighs. "Because of you."
"Me?"
He nods. "I'm so damned angry with you,
Chris."
She shakes her head. "Maybe that's all there is to say. Maybe you need to go back to her then."
"I can't."
"Why? She's beautiful, she's sweet and protective,
and she loves you. What more do you
want?"
"I want you."
"Oh."
He laughs, the sound unexpected. "Back to that, are we? We need to find you a new word."
"So, if I understand
correctly, you are angry with me."
He nods.
"And you want me?"
"Yes."
She takes a sip of coffee to
hide how thrown she is. "Angry sex,
Jim? That sounds like a recipe for
disaster."
"I know. Why do you think I've stayed away?"
"You seemed so nice the
other night at dinner."
"I didn't say this made
sense." He sips at his coffee, as
if he too is desperate for something to do.
"I wanted you so much that night.
I couldn't get you out of my mind.
And the more I tried, the angrier I got." He shakes his head. "Spock has been telling me to stop
avoiding you. That I'm letting you
become my personal bogey-man."
"Spock's really upped
his command of the vernacular, hasn't he?"
She leans forward. "And why
are we taking advice from a man who hasn't dated in what? A decade?"
He laughs. "Probably ever. I don't think he and T'Pring
really dated. They just went from
daycare buddies to betrothed in one easy step." He stares at her. "It's easier to joke, isn't it? About him, about this. Than to face it."
She nods.
There is a long silence.
She finally says, "If
you want to end this. If it's easier for
you, then we will. You don't have to
forgive me; you don't have to try to get to know me again. You don't have to do anything with me. Just go out on your shiny new ship and find a
new person to love." She looks
down. "Or maybe an old one? At dinner the other night, you mentioned
Carol a lot." It hurt how easily he
referred to the woman he used to speak of with such misery.
"I'm not in love with
Carol." His tone brooks no
argument.
"Well, then Gillian,
maybe? She was fun, right? I got to know her a little. She had a real exuberance for life that I
think would be attractive to you."
"I'm not in love with
Gillian, either." He suddenly
sounds impatient.
"And Antonia? Is that really over? You had two years with her?"
"And I was jumping the
ravine at the end." He sighs. "God help me, I love her, but I'm not in
love with her. Not the way I should
be."
"Well, I'm running out
of candidates." She knows she doesn't
sound helpful any longer; she sounds angry.
"Good." He smiles, takes her hand and studies
it. "You have such strong
hands."
She waits. Doesn't want to think about how good it feels
to have him touching her. Even just like
this.
"I'm in love with
you," he says. "I've been in
love with you since that damned shuttle and that damned virus. I can't shake you."
She starts to laugh. "I hope that wasn't supposed to be
romantic."
He grins. "It wasn't." His grin turns into a frown. "I don't think it was, anyway. You know, before you, I used to think I was
good at this." He lets go of her
hand, leans back in his chair, and crosses his arms.
He looks very much like a
ticked off little boy.
She finds him damn near
irresistible.
"Don't look at me that
way," he says softly.
She looks away quickly. "Sorry." When he doesn't say anything, she asks,
"So where are we, exactly?"
He smiles. "We are right back where we
started. I want you, and I'm pissed as
hell about it." He looks up at her,
and for the first time, there is not even a little anger in his eyes.
"As hell?"
He nods.
"Can I make it
better?"
"God, I hope
so." He leans in. "I have to go to a send-off soiree
tonight. You have a dress uniform, I
suppose?"
"I have
several." One of the benefits of taking Reed's job and
being promoted is that her uniform allowance was increased.
"Would you like to be my
date, Commander Chapel?" He laughs
nervously, as if he can't believe this is a good idea.
She's not certain it is
either. "Jim, are you sure?"
He doesn't answer at
first. Then softly, "Yes. I'm sure."
She looks down. "That's sort of what you said about
dinner, and then I didn't see you for a week."
"I know." He laughs and she looks up at him. "But this time, Spock'll
have my ass in a sling if I avoid you."
She smiles. "That's true."
"I think he just wants
his Ka'Vareth partner back."
She smiles. "Maybe." She finishes her coffee and stands up. "I have to get back. They're going to
wonder if I got lost."
"I'll pick you up at at eighteen hundred?"
She nods. "Provided you still remember where the
apartment is?"
"I remember." He looks down. "And...I may have been by the building a
couple of times in the last week..."
She smiles. "Really?"
He nods. Sheepishly.
"I think I love
that." She takes a deep breath, one
that is not full of apprehension or sadness.
But actually of anticipation. "I'll
see you later."
"Count on it."
He almost sounds convincing.
She gives him a look.
"I'll be there," he
says. This time he does sound sure.
She leaves him to finish his
coffee in peace.
------------------------
Jim's send-off soiree is well
attended, and the rooms are crowded at Admiral Morrow's house. There's barely anyone under the rank of captain,
but Christine realizes she knows just about everyone there. The old Christine Chapel would have been out
of her element and very nervous, but now she is relaxed, mingling comfortably
with Jim.
He is looking at her. "You know more people here than I do,
don't you?"
"It's possible."
He laughs softly. "Party's still for me. I don't care if they like you
better."
He pretends to pout, and she
chuckles.
"They don't like me
better." She takes his arm, leads
him to the bar and orders him a single malt.
Glancing over at their host, she sees him gesture for Jim to join
him. "I think Morrow wants a
word."
Jim takes a sip of his Scotch
and nods. "My latest marching
orders, I suppose." He suddenly
frowns. "You didn't date him too,
did you?"
She rolls her eyes. "No."
"Good." He starts to say something else, but she puts
her hand on his arm.
"Only Matthew. And it was just a few dates. I told you a long time ago, you've ruined me
for other men."
He looks far too happy about
that.
"Go talk to
Morrow." She orders herself a
cognac and joins Matthew on the patio.
"You two back
together?"
"Don't know
yet." She looks out over the
bay--Morrow's view is outstanding.
"Nice place."
"Yes." He grins.
"Almost as nice as mine. Why
don't you know yet?"
She laughs. Matthew is relentless when he is on a quest
for info. "I just don't."
He shakes his head, as if she
just doesn't get it. "He loves
you. That's obvious."
"Well, I'm glad you
think so."
He smiles at her gently. "I know so, Christine. The man is crazy about you. He brought you here with him. I can't think of a more public statement to
that effect." He grins. "Or a more obvious message to those of
us who were a little too interested in his woman."
She laughs. "I think you're reading a lot into
this."
"You're not a
man." Matthew grins, then looks
past her, his smile growing larger.
"Jim. I was just telling
Christine how good it is to see the two of you together again."
Jim's hand snakes around her
waist, pulling her close. She glances
over at him, sees a possessiveness she doesn't expect in his eyes. Maybe he is being more territorial about her
than she realized?
He sips his Scotch, smiles. "It's nice to be together
again." His tone is a bit harsh, as
if he's angry.
She supposes he might be--with
both of them.
Cartwright doesn't seem to
mind his friend's tone. In fact, he laughs
and says, "Can't blame a man for trying."
Jim's tension seems to
evaporate in the face of his friend's openness.
He chuckles too. "No. I guess I can't." His hand tightens on her. "You want to walk? The grounds here are lovely."
She nods, lets him lead her away. He drops her arm as they walk down the patio
steps and onto one of the paths that lead to the cliffs, but as soon as they
are out of sight of the house he draws her to him and kisses her. His lips are fierce, and he pulls her closer
than she expects. He isn't hurting her,
but he's making no attempt to be gentle.
She searches his face, trying
to figure out what he is feeling.
He's giving nothing
away. He stares at her, then pulls her in
again, kissing her gently this time before moving away. "Come on." Taking her hand, he leads her closer to the
cliff. "It's beautiful
here." He hugs her tightly as she
moves in to snuggle against him.
"Yes, it is." She looks at him. His face is still unreadable. "Why did you want me here tonight?"
His answer is immediate, his
tone almost savage. "Because you're
mine."
She swallows, feels her mouth
go a bit dry. "We're going to have
an interesting night, aren't we?"
When he doesn't answer, she looks down.
"I thought you were against angry sex?"
He lets her go, moves away
from her, closer to the cliff. He stares
down at the crashing waves. "I
am."
She backs away a little bit,
is suddenly dizzy standing so close to the edge, even if there is a railing. "Hate to break it to you, but most of
your kisses haven't been what I'd call tender."
"I know." He runs his hand through his hair, mussing it
up.
She makes a sound, and he
turns to her. With a smile, she finger
combs his hair back into place. His eyes
close as she touches him, and she leans in, her lips soft on his cheek.
"I'm sorry," she
says.
He shakes his head. "Don't.
It wasn't just you. I let you
go. Maybe I shouldn't have. Maybe I should have tried to find a way to
understand."
She touches his cheek, smiles
when he leans into her hand. "It's
done. Maybes won't do either of us any
good. There's only now and what happens
from here on out."
He nods. "Only now." He sighs, then he says softly, almost too
carefully, as if he is working hard to keep his tone civilized. "You're not going home tonight."
"I'm staying here with
Morrow?"
He doesn't smile, and she
laughs nervously.
"So much for my little
attempt at humor."
"I'm not in the mood to
laugh." There is something in his
eyes that unnerves her. He has never
looked at her with quite such a combination of desire and anger and
possessiveness.
She looks down. "Sorry."
He sighs again. "Quit saying that."
"Okay. Sor--"
He kisses her. His lips are relentless, his arms like steel
as he holds her close. Opening her mouth
to his, she feels his tongue slip in, questing, tasting, battling her own. Her arms tighten around him, and she moans.
He pulls away slowly. She is almost afraid to look at him, almost
afraid to see how much anger he really does have for her. He takes her hand, leads her down the path,
back to the house. His thumb rubs her
palm, and she moans again.
Looking over at her, he smiles. A dark and seductive smile. She feels as if her legs might collapse and
tries to get hold of herself. This is
Jim. He'd never hurt her.
That thought doesn't keep her
from being a little bit afraid. And very
much aroused.
It's going to be an extremely
long evening.
---------------------------
Jim pushes her inside his
apartment, palms on the light, while with his other hand he is locking out the
world. He leads her to his bedroom, and
she moans as he pushes her against the wall, as he kisses her hard and fast. Then he pulls away from her.
He slowly undresses her. She notes that he doesn't rip her dress
uniform from her, takes his time stripping her, folding her clothes and putting
them on his dresser. Somehow the care he is taking makes her more
nervous than if he lost control. She
stands naked before him and shivers.
Pushing her against the wall
again, he holds her there, staring at her, his look hungry. Then he lets her go. "Undress me." He watches her as she takes his uniform off
and folds it as carefully as he did hers.
"I'm older," she
says, suddenly embarrassed at his scrutiny.
"You're
beautiful." He moves against her,
and the feeling of his skin on hers is pure heaven. They kiss for a long time. His touch begins to get harder, more
fierce. More possessive.
Finally, he pulls away. "Go lie down on the bed."
She does what he says and waits
for him, but he doesn't move, just stands there watching her. Then he turns to the closet, seems to be
looking for something, finally draws out some socks, which he ties together
into one long strand. He walks over to
her.
"You know what this is
for?"
She nods. Her mouth has gone dry. This is not a game they've played very often.
Tonight it's not a game at
all.
"Get up now if you want
to leave."
"Jim?" She doesn't want to leave, but she is
suddenly uneasy.
He nudges her, and she scoots
over to give him room. He slowly ties
the end of the strand to her left wrist, then he pulls her arm over her head
and winds the cloth around one of the metal bars on his headboard, pulling her
arm tight.
She makes a sound, not a moan
exactly. Almost a whimper. It shocks her. "Jim?"
He kisses her. His kiss is tender.
That only confuses her more.
Reaching for her other wrist,
he pulls her arm over her head and looks down at her. "Last chance."
She swallows, then closes her
eyes.
He kisses her again. Then he ties the cloth around her wrist. "Try to break free."
She tries to get away. Can't.
"Mine," he says, as
he begins to kiss her again. His hands
are roaming everywhere, relentless and teasing, never stopping anywhere long
enough for her to do more than groan as he touches her. His lips move lower, and lower still. She forgets she is tied, tries to reach for
him and can't.
The feeling of helplessness
that comes over her leaves her shaken--and even more aroused. She is his.
His tongue touches her and she is gone, calling out his name as she
bucks underneath his mouth.
Then he is holding her, his
lips on hers, his hand gentle on her face.
They kiss, and the kiss lasts forever, and she wants to weep at the
feeling of being with him again.
She tries to reach for him,
can't move her arms and groans--in frustration this time. "Untie me."
He shushes her with his
mouth, moving so he is over her, then in her.
He is kissing her as she strains at the ties, his body moving harder and
faster until she can barely think.
Then suddenly he is moving a
little too hard, and she cries out in fear.
He stops instantly.
"Chris?"
She panics, tugs at the socks
and feels tears welling up when they don't give.
"Chris. No, it's okay." He is working the socks loose, tearing them
off her hands. "Shh.
It's okay."
She is weeping, only it's no
longer because she's afraid. She says,
"I'm sorry," over and over and over, and he is kissing her and
telling her it's all right, and finally she grinds up against him, does it
again and again, until he starts moving inside her again. She clenches down, and he calls out her name
as he comes, his hands tightening painfully in her hair. But she doesn't protest, just holds him and
cries again as he kisses her.
"You're not the only one
who's mad, you know," she whispers into his chest.
"I know." He rolls off her, pulling her close and burying
his head in her hair. "I love
you," he says. "I love you,
Chris." His voice sounds a little
broken as he says, "You're mine."
She pulls away, and he wipes
the tears off her face.
"I'm sorry," he
says. "I didn't mean to hurt
you."
"You didn't hurt
me." She kisses him, desperate,
hungry kisses. "I love you,
Jim."
He brushes her hair away from
her face, stares at her.
"I'm okay," she
says.
He nods, kisses her
cheek. "Just wanted you so
much." He stops, presses his cheek
against hers. "Wanted to make you
p--"
She holds him close. "Wanted to make me pay?"
"Not very
nice." He sounds utterly
disappointed in himself.
"No. It's not very nice. But I understand the sentiment." She presses herself against him.
His body is so warm, and they
fit together the way they always have.
Like every hollow and curve is made just for the other.
"It's all
right." She lets her hands roam,
getting to know him again. She feels the
new scar on his arm, feels another new one on his back. "Where did you get this from?"
He shakes his head.
"Jim?"
He laughs. "I rode Caya after you left that
day. Took her out and tried to make her
jump that damned ravine. She bucked me
off. Then she jumped it on her own." He kisses her. "She always reminded me of you. So goddamned contrary."
She laughs. "I love that horse."
"She's yours then."
"Isn't that up to
Harry?"
"Oh. Well, I'm sure he'll agree." He smiles and it is a happy smile. He touches her face. "Look, ma. No more anger." He turns away. "I'm sorr--"
"--Stop saying
that." She laughs. Kisses him.
Loves the feel of it, laughs again.
"Neither of us is allowed to say 'sorry' anymore
tonight." She kisses him
again. "Deal?"
"Deal." He pushes her to her back. "Are you still angry at me?"
She shrugs. She's not being flip. She's just not sure.
"Not right this moment
anyway, huh?" He smiles, touches
her face gently. "I love you."
They make love again. And again.
And again. She picks up the
socks, ties him up with them. Rides him
as he lies helpless. As she arches back,
trying to stretch out the pleasure so it never ends, she realizes he's worked
himself loose from the ties, is holding her.
She laughs. It doesn't
matter--bound or not, he's still hers.
He'll always be hers. Just as she'll always be his.
Sweaty, utterly exhausted at last, they lie quietly--finally together.
----------------------------
Christine feels something on
her cheek, swats it away and hears a low chuckle. She opens her eyes, feels Jim's lips touch
down on her face again lightly, so lightly they tickle. She smiles as she pulls him onto her and
hears him laugh as he settles over her, between her legs.
"Have I ever told you
how pleasant you are to wake up," he asks as he begins to move inside her.
"Mmmmm."
"And you're so
articulate in the morning." Laughing
again, he kisses her tenderly. Then he
lays his lips next to her ear, whispers.
"I'm so sore."
"I am too," she
whispers back. Everything hurts. Everywhere aches. But she doesn't want him to stop.
"We're not young,"
he says softly.
She laughs, begins to run her
fingers over his back, as lightly as he was kissing her, making him
shiver. "We're not as young."
"Semantics." He closes his eyes, moves slowly.
Being with him like this
feels so good to her even though her body is tired, and she's had a few hours
sleep at best. "Don't stop,"
she mumbles as she kisses him.
"I wasn't planning on
it," he says when she finally pulls away.
Smiling at her, he runs his hand down her cheek. "I've missed you."
"And I've missed
you." Lying under him, being with
him again, it is almost too much. She
looks away.
"Chris. Look at
me."
She does, feels her eyes well
with tears.
"I love you," he says.
"I love you, Jim."
He kisses her again, his lips
gentle, his tongue moving slowly against her own. Then he pulls back, smiles almost sadly as he
wipes her tears away. "How many
years did we waste?"
She shakes her head. "Too many." She wraps her legs around him. "I was lonely without you."
He nods.
She shoots him a glance. "You weren't exactly alone." She tightens her legs.
"No, I wasn't. But do you really want to talk about this
now?" He shoots her one of his
grins, the kind that light up the quadrant, then he begins to move faster.
Throwing her head back, she arches
up to meet him. "I guess not."
"Good." He closes his eyes, moans low, and moves
faster still.
She is moaning too, the sound
changing each time he moves against her.
She closes her eyes, feels herself losing control. The sensation goes on a long time as her
exhausted body climaxes under him. He
follows her, nearly collapsing on top of her.
"I think I'm
dying," he whispers as he moves just enough so his full weight isn't on
her.
"I know I am." Her body aches, and she is so tired she feels
sick. She lets her eyes close.
He pulls the covers up over
them, kisses her, and closes his eyes.
"Go back to sleep. It's not
a workday."
She's glad he said that. She's so sleepy she can't remember what day
it is. "Are you sure?"
"Positive." He nestles against her, and a moment later
his breathing changes, his body relaxing against hers. He doesn't let go of her though, is still holding
her tightly as if afraid she'll run away.
He doesn't have to
worry. She'll never run away. She might kill him, but she'll never run
away.
She listens to him breathe
for a little while, amazed that they are together, that he loves her and wants
her. That he has forgiven her and she
has forgiven him.
More or less.
She laughs softly. They still have a lot to work out. But it can wait till she feels human
again.
Closing her eyes, she falls
back to sleep.
--------------------------
She wakes to golden sunlight
and the soft purr of sexy jazz--the kind he knows she likes--out in the living
room. The bed is empty, but by the good
smells filling the apartment she can tell that her lover hasn't gone any
farther than the kitchen. She stretches,
feels aching muscles protest but not the way they had been earlier. She looks at the chrono, laughs. Hours have gone by. The sun is going down, not coming up. They've slept the day away, or she has
anyway.
Jim comes in with a cup of
coffee and sets it down on the bedside table.
"Good morning."
She laughs. "I think it's almost evening."
"It is." He grins.
"But since we just woke up and since I'm making you breakfast, just
pretend it's morning."
She nods and stares at him,
drinking in the sight of him in his robe, smiling at her, loving her. After losing him, she knows she won't ever
take his presence for granted.
He touches her face. "Why so serious?"
"I keep thinking what
if." She feels as if she is going
to start crying if she keeps talking, so she reaches for the coffee, sips
it. Cream and sugar. He fixes it perfectly.
"What if?" He sighs.
"What if this hadn't worked?
Or we'd never tried? Or we did
and it didn't work out?"
She nods. "All of the above." She sets the coffee down. "I can spin you a hundred what if
scenarios. What if you'd told me to go
to hell when I came to Idaho? What if
you'd never come to ops that day and wanted to talk? What if Spock had stayed dead, and you'd
never gotten over it...or I hadn't...or Len hadn't? What if--"
"--I get the
picture." He smiles tenderly at
her. "I know scenarios are what you
live and die by in ops, but there is reality." He pulls her into his arms, holds her for a
long moment before kissing her and letting her go. "And reality says I'm about to make you
Ktarian eggs."
She grins. "Where did you get those? They're my favorite." And nearly impossible to find.
"I have my
sources." He laughs. "And, yes, I remember they're you
favorite."
She looks at him
suspiciously. "Did you have them on
hand for someone else?"
"Antonia hates
them." He shakes his head. "And you know they spoil so quickly it's
ridiculous."
He's right, they do. If he has them on hand, then he bought them
for her. He can't stand them either.
"You had this all planned
out?"
He picks up the strand of
socks from his side of the bed.
"Well, obviously not all of it, or I'd have had something a little
more prepared in this department."
He tries to undo the socks but has trouble with the knots. "Guess this is recycler bound."
She takes it from him, opens
the drawer of the table and drops it in.
"We may want it again."
She laughs at his grin. "And
besides, it's part of our first night back together. I feel very sentimental about it."
He takes her hand and brings it
to his lips, his mouth lingering on her skin.
"If I do any more than this, we'll never get out of bed."
"Would that be so
bad?"
"No. It would be heaven." He smiles as he gets up and walks to the
closet. Tossing her a robe, he says. "Come on. Watch me cook your eggs."
She smiles.
Just like old times.
It is the sweetest feeling in
the world.
Spock looks up from his
dinner, seems to have an expression of extreme satisfaction at the sight of
them sitting across from him.
"You're insufferably
smug, Spock," Jim says as he pours her more wine.
"I am merely relieved
that the two of you have settled your differences."
She looks down, trying to
hide her smile. They've been settling
their differences nonstop for days now.
She's not sure her body will ever recover.
Jim is grinning too. "That's one way to put it."
"I was attempting to be
polite." Spock almost smiles at
them, then goes back to his meal.
She feels Jim's hand on hers,
squeezes it. "So where is
Len?" she asks.
"In Georgia. He said he felt the need to reconnect with Joanna
after his near-crazy experience."
Jim grins at Spock. "Your
katra must have been a lot to bear. He's
only human, after all."
"And yet he returned my
katra to me unharmed despite that.
Fascinating." Spock lets an
eyebrow rise.
She laughs. He is so much more at ease than when she saw
him after the whale probe. And Jim has
told her that if she thought he was stiff then, she should have seen him right
after the fal-tor-pan.
She cannot imagine how hard
it was on Jim. She knows how hard it was
on her, having to watch it from a distance.
She sighs, and Jim glances
over at her.
He smiles sadly, seems to
know what she is thinking.
"Bygones," he says softly.
She wonders if it is that
easy, is not sure she can ever forgive herself for losing him. Although he seems to be over his anger since
he worked it out in sex that first night back together.
For one moment, she was
afraid of him that night. But she should
have known better, should have known that he would never hurt her.
He'd never be able to live
with himself if he did.
It's what makes him better
than her. Better than just about anyone
she knows. He's a hero, and heroes do
the right thing. Heroes forgive.
She's not sure she can be a
hero. David's death looms large, and she
hates herself for that, hates the Klingons for it, and hates David too. She's not ready to forgive anyone yet.
She forces herself to leave
such dark thoughts alone. David is
dead. Nothing will change that. She is wasting the moment that she has now,
wasting her time with Jim. Which is
stupid because he'll be gone soon enough, winging back out into space in his
new ship.
"Repairs are moving
along," Jim notes.
Spock nods. "The warp engines have been completely
overhauled. And the shield enhancements
are complete."
"Good." Jim smiles.
She can tell part of him is
already gone. Already flying through
space in the arms of his other woman.
She is jealous. A little.
But she knows better than to dwell on it. This is Jim and he belongs among the stars. He's been miserable on Earth the times he had
to stay there for any length of time.
Would have been even if they'd stayed together. His destiny lies in space.
She forces herself to smile. She will not be like Carol about this. He has his job, she has hers. They aren't going to be together all the
time. But that doesn't mean they aren't
a couple. That doesn't mean he's not
hers.
"I wish you were
coming," Jim says softly.
At times, she does too. They were so happy when they were together on
the ship. But she has grown away from
that person, or maybe grown too ambitious.
Or perhaps she's just become an adrenaline junkie, used to running
twenty-four hours a day, day after day--emergencies as drug.
She smiles. "Who'll handle all the crises you cause
if I'm not here?"
"I'm sure they'd find
someone else. And what do you mean that
I'll cause?"
She laughs. Turns to Spock. "Are you looking forward to being a
first officer again?"
"I have missed serving
with Jim."
She does not doubt that is
true. Jim smiles, clearly touched that
Spock chose to answer the question that way.
She thinks Jim has no idea
how much Spock loves him. Even after all
these years. Even though she has always
known. She looks over at Spock, meets
his calm, even affectionate gaze, and knows that he is aware she knows.
Neither of them seems to mind
that he is probably in love with her lover.
It seems....natural, somehow.
Just the way things are.
And Spock's love is so quiet,
so non-intrusive in its constancy. She
finds it difficult to feel threatened.
Besides. He appears to love her
too. Her good friend Spock--who would
ever have believed it?
------------------------
Christine looks around ops,
trying to figure out if she has forgotten to do anything. She has a day of leave coming up, one last
day to spend with Jim before he beams up to his new Enterprise and disappears
for a while.
"You okay?" Janice
asks, glancing up from her console.
Christine nods. "But I think I'm missing him
already." She shakes her head. "Is it possible to love someone too
much?"
"Only if they don't love
you back just as much." Jan smiles,
and Christine realizes that any angst her friend had over Jim is gone. "And that is clearly not the case
here. The man is crazy for you."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." Janice smiles and goes back to the comms.
Christine looks at the
messages already queuing up in her system, and checks to see if any are
important. One draws her attention. A personnel notice. Ops is getting a cadet on her last summer
interim tour. She scans down, sees it is
Valeris and smiles. Ops is no place for
a youngster--unless you happen to be Vulcan and riding head and shoulders above
your classmates. The evaluations that
accompany the assignment notice are glowing.
Valeris will report in a few
weeks. Time enough to deal with it
later. Christine closes the message,
scans a few others and is replying to one when she hears Jim's voice at the
entry way.
She gestures for him to come
over. He looks at Janice, gives her a
huge grin.
Janice stands up. "I guess this is goodbye, Jim."
Christine smiles. She cannot remember Janice ever calling Jim
by his first name.
He looks a little surprised,
but recovers nicely, his grin growing larger.
"I guess this is, Jan."
He gives her a quick hug.
"Have I told you how proud I am of you?"
"Not recently,
no." She grins, then looks over at
Christine. "Go. Sign off and get out of here. Or I'll take off with him myself." Her smile is easy; the joke is a real one.
Christine signs off. "I'll see you."
Janice nods.
Christine glances over at
Matthew's office. It is dark. He's actually taken an afternoon off.
"We'll be fine. Now get out of here."
Jim takes her arm, urging her
toward the door. "Come on,
Chris. Let's go."
As they head for the main
exit, he says softly, "Jan's come a long way."
"Yes. She has."
She suspects that neither of
them means in her career.
"I've always wondered if
she left the ship because of us," he says softly.
She has never shared that
with him, decided to let Jan's pain stay Jan's.
"If she did, she's over it now."
He nods. "You know Sulu's going to get the
Excelsior."
He's probably just
guessing. Unless Morrow told him
that. She, on the other hand, has it from
the best hallway rumor network that Sulu will indeed get the Excelsior when
Command finally manages to pry Style's hands off her. She wonders where Jim is going with this,
looks over at him quizzically.
"A man needs people he
can trust on his ship. Hikaru should
think about Jan."
She smiles. It's her opinion
that Sulu thinks about Jan a whole lot more than anyone guesses. He sure seems to make it a habit to hang
around ops when Janice is on shift. He doesn't
come in when it's just Christine and company.
But she keeps that nugget to
herself. "You going to suggest it
to him?"
He nods. "I think I will." He turns to her. "It's our second to last day. What do you want to do?"
She smiles, wondered if he
would ask her or if he would make plans for them on his own. "It's sort of silly."
"Tell me."
"I'd like to go to Idaho
and ride."
He grins. "Okay."
They head for her place. He's moved the things he doesn't need on the
ship out of his apartment and into her closets.
She knows that when he's gone, she'll be glad they are there. A reminder that he's with her again, even if
a whole quadrant separates them.
They change clothes quickly,
head for the nearest transporter station, and Jim uses his charm to get the
tech to beam them directly to the ranch rather than just the nearest
station.
Harry is sitting on the porch
when they walk down the drive, his hat covering his eyes. He pushes it up, grins when he sees them. "Well, if you two aren't a sight for
sore eyes."
She smiles. "Hey, Harry."
"Christine." He looks at Jim. "Seems you came to your senses,
boy?"
Jim just laughs.
"You gonna
take that from him, sweetheart?" Harry asks.
She nods. "He's shipping out tomorrow. I'm indulging him."
"Well, don't indulge him
too much. You'll spoil him." He pushes his hat back even more. "You two come to ride?"
She nods.
Harry starts to get up but
Jim says, "It's okay. We can
manage."
"You want some food to
take out with you?" He winks at
Christine. "Or do you two just want
some alone time?"
She can feel herself
blushing.
He nods knowingly. "At least grab some canteens from the
cooler." He pushes his hat back
over his eyes. "Caya could do with
a good run, Christine."
"I sort of gave Caya to
Chris," Jim says.
"Mighty generous with my
horse, Nephew." Harry doesn't sound
as annoyed as he's pretending to be.
"I didn't think you'd
mind, seeing as how you're such a fan of my girl."
She smiles at the term. So silly.
So sweet.
Harry peeks up through the
hat at them. "She oughtta be your wife by now, Jim. When you going to make an honest woman of
her?"
Jim's smile fades somewhat,
and she hurries to say, "How about you let us feel our way through this,
Harry?"
"Suit yourself,
Christine." He waves them
away. "Just an old man making a
simple suggestion."
"Ignore him," she
tells Jim, as they walk to the corral.
He nods tightly.
Maybe he's not as over his
anger as she thought.
She sees Caya at the far end
of the corral. "Here, girl."
To her surprise, the mare
trots over and nudges her. "Maybe
she knows she's mine now?"
"Maybe she recognizes
another crazy woman when she sees her."
Jim is smiling again.
She grins in relief. "Maybe so."
They get saddled up quickly,
and she grabs a couple canteens of water, handing him one before looping the
other over her shoulder and mounting.
Jim is back on his dark bay,
leading the way at an easy trot, then a canter, then they are galloping. She realizes they are headed away from the
ravine and smiles. Their progress turns
into a race, and she urges Caya on. The
mare pulls up with his more elegant horse, then she turns her head and nips at
the bay before pulling ahead.
"You really are a
bitch," Christine whispers to her horse as Jim pulls alongside then passes
her.
Caya takes off after him, and
they race for a stand of trees. She
catches Jim's horse, and they ride abreast, neither gaining ground until Jim
finally pulls up as they enter the shade.
She eases Caya back too. They
walk through the patterned shadows, and Caya tries to bite Jim's horse again.
"She is a menace," he says, moving his horse closer so he can take
Christine's hand.
Caya goes for another nip, but
Christine yanks her head back.
"Thank you." Jim pats his horse's neck. "From both me and Kaiser."
They walk until the horses
have quit blowing, then Jim leads them over to a spot on the edge of the
grove. It is warmer here, but still in
the shade. Dismounting, he ties his
horse to one of the trees.
She jumps off and ties Caya
out of reach of Kaiser. "What
now?"
He pulls a blanket out of his
saddlebag, winks at her. "I thought
we might want to lie down?"
She laughs. "You
did?"
He spreads the blanket half
in and half out of the sunshine. Then he
sits down and holds his hand out to her.
"Come here."
She walks to him, sinks down
onto the blanket, into his arms. He
kisses her and she closes her eyes and tries to memorize every feeling. It will have to last her for a while.
He pulls away, stares at
her. His look is troubled.
"What?" She wonders if he is thinking about
Antonia? Was it stupid to come here?
"It's not that I don't
want to marry you."
She waits for the rest of the
sentence but he doesn't finish it.
"Okay."
He smiles. "No, I mean, it's not that I'm ruling
that out. I'm just not ready yet."
"Okay."
He laughs but his look is
more uneasy than amused.
"Still mad at me?"
she asks softly.
"No, I don't think
so." He strokes her face. "In fact, I know I'm not mad. And I do love you." He sighs.
"I'm just not sure I trust you completely yet."
"You may never trust me,
Jim. Have you considered that?"
"I have. I have to figure out if I can live with
that."
She swallows, is suddenly
cold. Pulling away from him, she gets
up, walks into the sunlight.
It doesn't help with the
cold.
"Chris."
She doesn't turn around, just
stares out at the dusty horizon. She can
hear him getting up, coming toward her.
"I do love you," he
says.
"Uh huh." Her tone is sharp, almost mocking.
He turns her, quickly, almost
roughly. "Don't."
"Well, what do you want
me to say? How many more ways can I say
I'm sorry?" She starts to move away,
but he grabs her arm.
"I don't want you to say
anything. It's just going to take
time."
"You can forgive, but you
can't forget, is that it?"
He shrugs, drops her arm.
"Maybe you wish your
sweet little Antonia was here?"
"Well, she wouldn't be goading
me." He yanks her to him. "And she wouldn't be making me want to
do this."
He kisses her hard,
passionately, pushing her back toward the blankets.
She is pulling off his
clothes even as he does it. She is
angry, now it is her turn to be filled with rage, to make him pay for the guilt
that never leaves her. "I may do it
again, you know. Maybe you don't trust me
because you can't."
"Maybe." His lips are bruising hers, he yanks her
shirt over her head, lets it fall in the tall grass.
She is crying, but her anger
won't let her shut up. "So when do
you say you're sorry, Jim? When do you
apologize for screwing her before our relationship was even cold?" She tries to pull away from him but he won't
let her. "You cheated on
me." She is hitting him now, her
fists ineffectual because she doesn't want to hurt him, even if she does want
to make him pay.
She pulls away, drops her hands. "You cheated, Jim. Was this a favorite place? Did you have her here too?"
"No." He pulls her back to him, kisses her. "I'm sorry for what I did to you. I'm sorry I cheated. It was wrong, but I was hurt. I can't excuse it. But I thought you were seeing someone
else. And I was mad."
"And she was here."
"And she was
here." He kisses her gently. "She and I never made love in this spot. You know me better than that."
"You're sure?"
"I'm sure." He kisses her again, then lays his lips on
her ear, whispers, "I'm so sorry.
Forgive me."
She nods.
"No. Say it."
"I forgive you."
"I love you, Chris. We may kill each other before this is over,
but god help me I'll die loving you."
"I know. Stop talking now, okay?"
He smiles and kisses her
again. She pushes him down, mounting him
and riding him as if he were Caya and they were still in that race. He pulls her down to kiss him, his lips
moving off her lips and along her cheeks.
She realizes she is crying again, that he is kissing away her tears.
"Chris," he says,
and she slows. He holds her as they move
carefully now, gently.
His lips are tender on hers,
and he rolls her over, moves above her, controlling the pace.
She sobs, looks away, but he
forces her to look at him.
"I love you." He kisses her and it is a kiss so filled with
love that she sobs again. "I do
love you."
"I know." She shakes her head. "What if we can't trust each other?"
"What if we don't try to
figure it out today? What if we let time
answer that for us?"
She doesn't say anything, but
then Caya whinnies softly.
"See, she agrees with
me?" He smiles, moves faster.
Moaning, she closes her
eyes. "Okay."
"Okay?"
She nods.
He reaches down, his fingers
touching her in ways he knows will make her crazy. "Okay?"
She laughs. Nods again.
Then she can't do anything but feel for a few moments. Neither can he.
They finally pull away enough
to get comfortable on the blanket, limbs wrapping tightly around each
other.
She is no longer cold. "I wish..."
He opens his eyes, waits.
"I wish I could go back
and do it over again."
"I know."
She sighs. "I love you so much it hurts."
He kisses her. "I know that too. Right here." He touches her abdomen, under her ribs, then
lower.
"Yep. That's the spot."
"For me too. Don't think you're alone in this,
Chris." He sighs. "I'm going to miss you. I wasn't kidding when I said I wished you
were coming with us."
She nods, burrows her head
against his chest, unwilling to face the waning sunshine.
She forces tears away. She can handle this.
"What do you want to do
tomorrow?" he asks softly.
"Be with you."
He kisses her cheek. "That's a given, Chris."
She turns so that his next
kiss lands on her lips. They kiss for a
very long time.
"What do you want to
do?" she asks.
He touches her face. "Be with you." He traces her eyebrows, then the curve of her
cheek. "Let's sleep late."
She nods.
"And let's finish our
ride now." He pushes her away
gently.
They pull on their clothes,
but she can't find her shirt. He grins,
walks through the grass to where he dropped it and brings it back to her,
pulling it over her head. "Now how
did that get over there?"
She shrugs.
"It couldn't be that you
got me all riled up? You'd never do
that."
She grins. "Never."
"Right." He kisses her again, then they mount up and
ride out into the sunshine, enjoying a lazy pace and holding hands.
On the way back to the ranch,
they race.
It's a dead heat.
----------------------.
Their apartment is an oasis
of calm, and they lie in bed, curled around each other. Christine sighs, wishes she could bottle how
it feels to be next to him so she can pull it out once he is gone and
re-experience the love.
"You okay?" He kisses her cheek, pulls her closer.
"Just thinking sad
thoughts." She smiles as he kisses
her again. "I'll miss you."
"I know." Running his hand down her arm, he sighs. "I wish we had more time."
"Me too." She turns so she can see his face. "But I'm glad we had this."
"I am too." He kisses her again, this time on the
lips. His touch is soft and full of the
old exquisite tenderness.
They don't completely trust
each other. They aren't completely over
their anger at each other. But they love
each other--at the subatomic level, it seems.
She knows that neither of them is in any doubt of that anymore. They belong together, however they happen to
define togetherness.
She closes her eyes, gives
herself up to his lips and hands and the way his body presses against her.
"You feel so good,"
he murmurs.
She laughs softly. "There's more of
me to feel." Opening her eyes, she
sees that he is grinning.
"I'm not going to call
the kettle black for that one." His
grin grows.
"Just more of you to
love."
"Ditto." He runs his hands down her chest. "And I must say, if you've put on any
weight, you've done it in a very nice way.
And in some very nice places."
He kisses his way down to where his hands already are.
She closes her eyes
again. His mouth makes her crazy. He seems to understand her body better than
she does, knows exactly the right pressure, how hard to suck, where to stroke
to make her crazy. She arches as his
mouth pushes her harder, as the movement of his fingers becomes more
deliberate. She closes her eyes and just
rides out the pleasure he gives her.
Loudly.
She hopes the neighbors
aren't home. There has been intermittent
loudness coming from the bedroom all day.
She opens her eyes, sees that
he is watching her.
"I love you," he
says. "I don't always understand
the way I'm drawn to you."
"I know. I don't understand it either. The whole time you were gone, I felt
empty. As if some vital part of me was
missing."
He nods. "I know. And having Antonia didn't make
that better. She filled her own space,
but it wasn't the same." Frowning
slightly, he says, "You own me at some fundamental level."
"Maybe it's like Plato
said. Maybe we are all looking for that
part of us that was split apart?"
He smiles, an amused grin and
she guesses that Antonia didn't discuss Plato in bed. Or probably at all.
At least it makes her feel
better to think the other woman didn't.
"Soulmates?" He kisses her, pulls her onto him. As she sinks around him and moves slowly and
very deliberately, he sighs, a slow smile turning up his lips. "When we make love, I believe it. The connection..."
She leans down so she can
kiss him. "It's overwhelming?"
He nods.
"For me too. It scares me sometimes, Jim."
"Why?"
"Because I lost you once
and I know how hard it was to get through that.
What if I lose you again?"
"Well, you'll just have
to do your best not to let that happen."
He grins, but his eyes are not laughing.
They both know anything can
happen in space. They both know they
aren't even that safe on the ground if left to their own devices. There is no place that is not dangerous for
them.
"Do you think love goes
on?" she asks.
"After death you
mean?"
"Yeah."
"I hope so." He smiles, a teasing look. "Just don't
rush to test that out, Chris."
"I won't." Moving faster, she watches as he tenses, then
calls out, his body pushing up over and over as if seeking some even deeper
connection. She smiles as she watches
him come down, feels him relaxing inside her.
"But I'm fairly certain that I'll love you until death and
beyond."
He sighs. "Love me in life. I don't want to think about death."
They've both seen so much of
that lately. She kisses him as she slips
off him, cuddling around him. He pulls
her closer. There is no such thing as
too close for them right now.
She thanks whatever god is in
charge of reconciliations for that closeness.
It is not something she thought she would ever have back.
They lie in silence for a
long time, the only noise the sounds from the street below them.
"We've never talked about
him." Jim's voice is a bit
shaky. "We never mention
David."
She tries not to tense.
He rubs her arm, as if
reading her apprehension, wanting to ease it. "I don't mean fight about
him. I mean 'talk' about him."
She moves her head back a bit
on his shoulder so she can see his eyes, read his mood. He looks unbearably sad.
"If you want to talk
about him, we can." She strokes his
face. She'd do anything to make his
terrible sadness go away.
"I got to know him a
little." His smile is tentative. "You knew him much better, I
think."
She nods, waits for him to go
on.
"He seemed so
bright. He was, wasn't he?"
She smiles. This is an easy one. "Oh, yes. I've never met anyone as bright. Never seen a mind that could turn so quickly,
find answers so easily in the most unusual places. He was brilliant, Jim. Truly brilliant. And incredibly creative."
"Did he ever wonder
about me? I mean about who his father
was?"
"If he did, he never
talked about it to me." She wishes
she could give him a happier answer. And
she could, if she lied. But she doesn't
want to do that anymore.
He looks disappointed, but
not surprised. "I think Carol was
enough for him."
"I think she
was." She snuggles closer. "I wonder what her life is like now? David was her world. And Genesis.
Now she has nothing."
He just nods.
"Jan saw you with her
coming off the ship. She said you two
seemed...together. Were you?"
"I thought
maybe." He smiles sadly at
her. "It was like a dream--a bad
dream because of Spock's death. But I
had a family suddenly. Carol and
David. In my life. It was wonderful."
"But?"
"But it didn't
last. David went to the Grissom, and
Carol and I stayed here, and without him for us to bond over there was nothing
left between us. It was over before it
even began."
Christine wonders if that is true, but decides she doesn't want to know if he
slept with Carol or not. "You know
she set us up, right? She arranged for
you to take that tour when she and David were gone and I was there."
He nods. "I figured that out." He sighs.
"She's was always obsessed with her way--and her work. You were important to that. I can see her doing just about anything to
keep you in her world not mine."
"No, I think she wanted
me in David's world."
He shoots her a strange look.
"I don't mean like
that. I mean for the sake of the
project, and because he and I just sparked when it came to work."
His eyes are shuttered when
he asks, "Did you spark in other ways too, Chris? I remember how intense you two were in that
coffee shop. Even looking back, it
looked like more."
"We were arguing over
protomatter. I was about to leave the
project, and he talked me out of it."
She smiles at the look of relief that comes over his face. "He didn't want me that way. I wasn't his type."
"Too brainy?" He grins.
"Too much competition?"
She laughs gently. "Too feminine, I think."
"Oh." He shoots her an incredulous glance. "Why didn't you just tell me that back
then?"
"Would you have believed
me? Or would it have just been another
excuse? You didn't even know it was
David at first. Would you have believed
it of some random rival?"
"Maybe not." He sighs.
"What a mess we made of this."
He kisses her hair. "Did you
love him?"
She nods. "He made me feel alive. He was like something out of myth." She smiles.
"Which is fitting because look at his father." She doesn't say that while Jim is Jovian in stature, David was more like Mercury--the eternal
trickster.
"Myth." He shakes his head. "It's no myth that he died before I
could really get to know him."
"Did you love him,
Jim?"
He starts to answer, then
stops. The look he turns on her is full
of pain. "I don't know." His voice is hoarse with the truth he gives
her.
"You would have loved
him. If you'd just had more time." She is not so sure of that. But it seems the best thing to say. For all of them.
The air in the shuttle is
dank and getting thinner by the second.
Lieutenant Walters looks back at her.
"I don't think they see us."
They are hiding from the
Klingons. Tucked into a pocket of
asteroids, running in silent mode, even life support is turned down to
practically nothing. They were trying to
return to the Cascade from Chyvria when the Klingon
ship decloaked and fired on them.
Christine had a moment where
she regretted that they chose not to use the transporter. But none of them wanted to chance it with the
interference that the planet itself seemed to generate. Even the Klingons didn't tend to beam down to
Chyvria's various ports of call if they could help
it, and Christine has heard horror stories about some who had--it was the last
thing they ever did.
She closes her eyes. It's so easy to remember Lori, the way she
died so long ago. Jim told her that she
was beaming up for a final inspection, that when she had talked to him earlier
that day, there had been no warmth in her tone.
He said that if you hadn't known that they'd been married, you wouldn't
have guessed it from the interaction. Lori
might as well have been a stranger.
Certainly, he didn't seem to grieve terribly long. She thought it was because he'd already come
to terms with losing Lori. The tragedy
in the transporter didn't change anything.
The ship moves slightly as its
deflectors--set to minimum--kick away a small hunk of space rock. She hopes Walters is good at figuring minimum
safe levels on the shields, has no desire to die when one of those cosmic
boulders pops through the shuttle's hull.
She sighs, then wishes she
hadn't. She is wasting oxygen, exhaling
before she needs to.
She wonders how the battle is
going. They can see nothing from here,
and their sensors are locked down to bare minimums too. She almost wishes they were in a better ship,
one that could take on the Klingons.
She'd rather be in the thick of things.
Not waiting out the battle the way they were ordered to--quietly, not
taking any unnecessary risks.
She smiles. Jim has rubbed off on her. There was a time she would have preferred
hiding where it was safe. Until she was
needed for the inevitable clean up.
She looks back at the young
man sitting so quietly next to Valeris. Toral was the heir to the throne, now he's the ruler of Chyvria, has been since his father fell to the virus that is
running rampant across the planet. He
has found himself in a role he did not plan to assume for years. But one he was ready for nonetheless. His first act was to ask for Federation
emergency help.
The Federation was delighted
to send medical and emergency assistance to such a dilithium rich world.
As soon as the Cascade
arrived in orbit, Toral's second act was to expel the
Klingons who viewed his world as a sort of shore leave planet when they weren't
lifting dilithium and forgetting to pay for it.
His next was to apply for
Federation membership.
To say he's not a popular man
on Q'onos is to put it mildly.
The Klingons attacking them
were some of the ones Toral ordered to get off his
world. They sure didn't go far. She's not sure how they know Toral is on the shuttle--spies in his household
perhaps. At any rate, they're gunning
for him now.
Nothing like an assassination
to put things back the way you like them.
She checks on Valeris, feels
guilty as she looks at the woman. She did
not mean for Valeris's last away mission during her summer assignment to be so
exciting.
Valeris turns to look at her,
her eyebrow lifting in what looks like an expression of enjoyment. Is the woman having fun? "Quite the adventure," she murmurs
so low that only Christine and Toral can hear
her.
Christine smiles. "You find this fun, cadet?" She supposes it is more fun for Valeris, she
isn't struggling to breathe the way the rest of them are.
"Fun is an emotional response,
Commander." Her eyes sparkling with
the devilment Christine has learned to expect from her, she lifts her eyebrow
again. It is a perfect imitation of
Spock's, even down to the faint lifting of her lips.
Is it a Vulcan trait
then? Or does she mimic her mentor out
of flattery--or some other, more complicated, emotion?
Toral shifts, coughs slightly.
"Try to limit your
movements," Christine tells him.
She knows she is using up air by talking, sits back in her seat and sets
the example she is supposed to by waiting in silence. She tries to distract herself with thoughts
of Jim out on his own ship. She'll see
him again finally in a few weeks, when they take leave.
Walters turns to her and gives a thumbs up; the battle is short lived. He brings the shuttle back to life, and as
fresh oxygen begins to pour in, she relaxes, breathing deeply.
The Cascade hails them, and
Walters looks at Valeris. "Didn't
you say you wanted a chance to fly one of these?"
Christine can feel her own
eyebrows going up. "Into the
shuttle bay?"
He winks at her. "How much scarier can it be than trying
to outrun a Klingon bird-of-prey in a shuttle?"
He has a point. She looks over at Valeris. "Go on.
You know you want to."
A human would jump up and
rush to the front seat. Valeris rises
gracefully and takes her time getting to the copilot's seat. "Thank you for your confidence in
me."
"Oh, cut the crap and
let her rip." Christine
laughs.
Valeris looks back at her, eyes shining.
Then she turns around and follows the directions Walters is giving
her. He may appear not to care that she
could crash the damn thing and kill them all, but he sure is taking his time
getting Valeris set.
"I believe I have the
concept down, sir," Valeris finally murmurs. "I have taken basic shuttlecraft
operations." Valeris is doing so well
at the Academy that she can probably take any class her Vulcan heart desires.
Walters lets her take them
in. Christine forces herself to breathe
normally. Valeris will get them home
safely.
And of course she does. It is a picture perfect return to the shuttle
bay. As she turns the engines off,
Valeris turns to Walters. "Thank
you, sir."
He nods, clearly pleased with
her performance. "Just wait till
you fly a real ship." He
grins.
"I will not have to wait
long." Valeris already knows her first
assignment once she's done with her final year--probably had people fighting
over her. She'll be helm on the Portofino. It's not
a starship, but it is one of the new class battlecruisers,
more maneuverable. Valeris is likely to
find herself in combat as the Portofino's crew patrol
the area along the neutral zone.
Christine has no doubt she'll excel there too.
Walters nods to her as he
exits the shuttle. Valeris is still
sitting at the controls.
"You going to move in
here?" Christine asks, as she gets up.
She turns to Toral. "Can I offer you some good old fashioned
Federation hospitality?"
"Yes, thank you,
Commander Chapel."
Christine waits for Valeris
to join them before leading Toral off the shuttle and
to the quarters Captain Nichols has assigned him.
Toral sinks into one of the chairs, looks at her. "You said that the Federation
representatives are here already?"
She nods.
"I wish to get this done
quickly. I am needed on my world."
"There is no reason the
negotiations for membership should take undue time," Valeris says
softly.
"Good." Toral rubs his
eyes. As he does it, Christine notices a
long scar on the top of his hand. He
smiles bitterly as he follows her gaze.
"A memento of my childhood.
A constant reminder of why it is a bad idea to let Klingons drink
bloodwine at an official banquet."
He touches the scar. "And
why you should never touch a warrior's bat'leth without his permission."
"Bat'leth?"
"A weapon with a curved
blade, held like this." He
demonstrates.
Christine realizes she has seen
them among the dead warriors on those border worlds the Klingons were raiding
back when she and Jim were on the ship together. "You're lucky you didn't lose your
hand." She shudders.
He shakes his head. "This wasn't from his bat'leth. It was from the meat knife we had so kindly
provided him. I think he just meant to
teach me a lesson."
"You were only a
child," Valeris says, and there is something harsh in her voice. Some measure of her distaste at the idea of
such brutality to a child.
"I doubt they viewed it
that way. Klingon children grow up
fast." Toral
shrugs. "It is no matter now. And hardly grievous when compared to nearly
losing my life to them today." Sitting up straighter, he says in a
resolved tone, "They will never find a welcome on Chyvria. I plan to live a good long time."
"Long enough for
Federation membership to become inured in the minds of your people?"
Christine asks.
He nods. "Long enough to make my world a safer
place."
"It is an admirable
goal," Valeris says.
"It is the only goal I
have." He turns away.
"We'll let you
rest." Christine motions for
Valeris to come with her.
As the door close, Valeris
says softly, "They will try to kill him again."
"Probably." Christine sighs.
"Admiral Cartwright will
want to know what happened here."
Christine smiles. "You think I don't know that? Like he needs one more reason to obsess over
the Klingons." If anything,
Matthew's passion for bringing down the Empire is just growing.
"Perhaps he is right to
obsess. I am unsure if Starfleet Command
and the Federation leadership fully understand the kind of threat that the
Klingons pose to stability in the quadrant."
"That's a very logical
way of saying you've jumped on Matthew's bandwagon." She grins at
Valeris. The young woman seems to
idolize Matthew. Not that Christine
blames her. He's a good man, and a
talented one. And he and Spock are
friends. Any friend of Spock's appears
to be a friend of Valeris's.
Christine often wonders if that
is why Valeris appears to like her so much too.
It's not very flattering to the young woman, or to herself. Not when Christine knows she has opinions and
likes of her own.
"Well," she says,
deciding not to worry over why Valeris likes her, "this is sure an
exciting way to finish out your interim in ops."
"It has been a most
enlightening tour. I have"--she
almost smiles--"enjoyed my time in Emergency Operations. And I will miss you, Christine." Valeris's tone is warm.
Christine smiles. She's not sure what to think about Vulcans
anymore. Spock, Valeris, even Sarek,
seem to give lie to the cold, unemotional stereotype. Even if they hide their feelings well, they
do appear to have them. Frequently.
"I'll miss you too,
Valeris."
She doesn't think Janice will
though. For some reason, Jan has never
warmed up to Valeris. She asked her
about it once.
Janice looked sheepish as she
said, "It's not rational, Christine.
There's just something I don't trust about her. And no I'm not just jealous that she's
brilliant, beautiful, and could squash me like a bug in a game of tennis."
Janice is usually a good
judge of character, better than Christine is, in fact. But she's wrong this time. Christine only feels a deep affection when
she looks at Valeris. And she's gotten
better at hearing those warning bells since Carol betrayed her. Valeris is a fine officer. And she's Christine's friend. One who Christine would trust with her life.
-----------------------
She opens her eyes slowly,
sees that Jim is watching her. It is a
wonderful coincidence that she needed a ride out to Denela
and he was there to offer her one on the Enterprise, especially after just seeing
each other on leave.
"So," she asks,
moving closer to kiss him, "do you give all your passengers this kind of
treatment? Dinner in the mess and a
night in the captain's quarters?"
He grins as he begins to
touch her. "Only the ones I'm in
love with."
"And how many are you in
love with?"
"'Bout a half dozen or
so." He laughs--he is aware of his
reputation. "I'm holding auditions
soon. Would like to get it up to an even
dozen."
She groans as he moves into
her. "And would that be a baker's
dozen or just the garden variety kind?"
"Thirteen is bad luck,
remember?" Smiling, he kisses her
again, and they stop talking as their mouths find other things to do.
A little later, she sighs as
she shifts in his arms. "So Sulu is
filling in for Spock?" She was
surprised to see the science station without Spock sitting there, to see Sulu as
acting first officer.
Jim nods. "Spock's off on some hush hush mission. He's
been pulled off a number of times lately."
He nuzzles her neck as he talks, his lips touching down lightly on her
skin. "It's good experience for Sulu,
will get him ready for his new lady. And
sooner rather than later, I think. Have you heard anything about Styles
leaving?"
"Just unsubstantiated
rumors."
He laughs. "Yes, but your unsubstantiated rumors
come from admirals, not from the bowels of my ship."
"True." She giggles as he finds a sensitive spot on
her neck. "Word is Styles is
accepting promotion in six months."
"Then I'll need a new
helmsman. I'm happy for Sulu..."
"But?"
He sighs. "I'm losing my crew, Chris. It seems like we just launched, but I know
before I'm ready for it, we'll be standing down--whoever of us is left to stand
down."
"I know." She's wondering what he'll do when he stands
down. Will Earth ever be enough to hold
him, to make him happy?
Will she?
"I miss Spock," he
murmurs, sighing. "I'm losing him
to diplomacy."
"It was just a matter of
time. Look at Sarek. It's in his blood."
"I suppose. I'm just not used to him not talking to me
about things."
"And your experience
with that is less than stellar."
She turns to look at him.
His eyes are bleak. "I wasn't going to say that."
Kissing him, she strokes his
face gently. "Spock won't betray
you. It's not Genesis all over
again."
He nods, but doesn't look
convinced. She gives up trying to make
it better, knows that she can't. Things
change, including perfect crews under perfect captains. Jim's world is breaking apart naturally, and
there is nothing either of them can do to stop it. Nothing either of them should do.
"I've missed you,"
he says, and she feels him relax against her.
"I've missed you
too."
His breathing changes,
becomes the long, deep breaths of sleep.
She turns to look at him, studying his face. Still so handsome to her even though he is no
longer young. But then neither is she.
Pretty soon it will be time
to step aside, to make room for younger officers who haven't seen and done it
all. She's ready to make the move
whenever he is. Ready to pack it all in
and try the quiet life. The rockbound
life. She hopes this time they can
settle down together and make it work.
---------------------
Christine looks around the
room, watches as Janice blushes at something Matthew says. It is a joint goodbye. He's moving up, and she's shipping out to the
Excelsior--Sulu listened to Jim and lured Jan away. Not that it probably took much
convincing. Sulu's here now, looking
proud and a little territorial every time his eyes rest on Janice.
Christine knows that look. She wishes
them luck, hopes they are as happy as she's been with Jim. She also hopes they never know the heartbreak
she and Jim have known. But she thinks
maybe they won't. They've waited so
long, and neither of them is particularly volatile. Not that Christine thought she was, until she
learned otherwise through loving James T. Kirk.
Certainly she is very different than the unassuming nurse who first went
out to look for Roger.
She thinks Roger would not like her much anymore.
Jim, however, only seems to
love her more, no matter how strong--and incendiary--she becomes. But then Jim isn't afraid of a challenge.
"Nice party,
Christine." Matthew hands her a
refill on her champagne. "Thank
you."
She smiles sadly--ops will be
a lonely place without him and Janice.
"Who better to throw it than someone who knows all your
faults?"
"You said there wouldn't
be a roast."
"I did?" She laughs as his expression changes, becomes
a lot less complacent. "Relax,
Matthew. Toasts only. And best wishes and congratulations. A billet on the CINC's
staff is quite the plum assignment."
Winking, she leans in, says in a whisper, "Think of all the ways
you can foil the Klingons from there."
"Very funny. Someday, you'll be glad I'm out there foiling
the Klingons, Christine." He holds
up his glass to her. "To shared
emergencies. There's no one I'd have rather
spent a crisis with than you."
"Ditto, Matthew. And to you, for saving me all those years ago
when I didn't care what happened."
"I didn't save
you," he says, but he clinks his glass against hers anyway. "You saved yourself. I just pointed you in the right
direction."
"I don't think so. But okay." She sees Janice coming over with Sulu, smiles
to include them. "So how does it
feel having a ship of your own?"
Sulu grins as if he's just
been given free run of Risa. Janice looks a little nervous, even if she is
smiling gamely.
Christine knows she'll be
fine. And she knows Janice will figure that
out sooner rather than later. Her friend
takes no crap off anyone, and her competency is off the scale. If she lacks confidence, a few days doing well
in the job will fix that.
"Here's to you, my
friend," she says softly, holding her glass out.
Janice lifts her glass and
taps it lightly to Christine's. "Is
it bad to throw up at your own party?"
"Yes." Sulu laughs at her. "Why are you so nervous, Jan?"
"Why aren't
you?" Glaring at him, Janice turns
back to Christine. "And how about
you? Emergency Ops is going to be mighty
lonely."
Christine shrugs and feels
Matthew nudge her.
"I think she's waiting
to see what Jim does before she makes any commitments." Matthew grins at her.
"Maybe I'm just waiting
to see who my next boss is? I mean I
just got you trained and now I have to break in another?"
"That's the life of a
Starfleet officer. One new boss after
another." He lifts his glass. "To good times. And bad ones.
All spent together. In this
room. Possibly in these same uniforms."
They murmur "here-here's"
and "To good times," before Sulu and Janice wander away to mingle
more.
"So, you really going to
retire if Jim does? Whither thou goest, and all that?"
"That's the plan. He has a while to go in the center seat,
fortunately."
"And you'll stay
here?"
"It's in my blood, I'm
afraid."
"I hear that. I think I'll miss this place more than I even
realize once I'm up in the CINC's pretty
offices."
She laughs at that. "You'll be loving life. Think of the access." Glancing over at him, she laughs harder. "You're practically salivating,
Matthew."
He shoots her a glance that
is more penetrating than she expects.
"It's a chance to do some real good, Christine." He puts a lot of emphasis on the word
"do." "Can you understand
that?"
"I have no doubt you'll
do good," she says breezily and sees immediately that he is disappointed
in that answer. "What?"
He sighs, shaking his head
and looking down.
"Matthew?"
"It's nothing. I'm just emotional, I think." Smiling, he looks around the room, seems to
be taking in all the faces, stopping at some of the ops old-timers. "I'm going to miss this."
"And we're going to miss
you." She hands him a small
package, laughs as he frowns. "It's
not from me, it's from Jim. He doesn't
care if you said no gifts."
"Typical Kirk
behavior. Rules don't apply." He is grinning though as he tears off the
wrapping to reveal a bottle of stimulants, the kind normally used by Academy
students in the middle of exams.
"For all the boring meetings," he reads, then laughs. "Wow. I'm touched." But he does look tickled at the gift. "He made you schlep this here?"
"He sure did." Not that she'd needed much convincing. Anything that made Matthew laugh was worth
the effort.
"I think this is his
revenge for my having asked you out."
He winks at her. There is nothing
wistful in his expression, nothing sad in his voice. Whatever he feels for her these days outside
of friendship, he seems to be at peace with it.
"You should find
someone, Matthew." She grins. "I'm happy. I want you to be too."
"Can't just go looking,
Christine. Someone has to sort of
stumble into your life. Or at least that
seems to be the way it works."
"You may be right,"
she says, thinking of that cramped shuttle, the terrible virus that brought Jim
and her stumbling into collision.
Nothing has ever been the same since that moment.
And she is glad for it. Can see how far they have come. Through tragedy and triumph and soon
inevitable retirement. In love, always
in love, even if not always together.
But they're together now. Perhaps not physically, but their hearts--maybe
even their souls--are joined. It's a
whimsical, intense thought, and not one she would have been given to before she
met Jim.
He's made her reconsider
everything. He's made her a believer in
true love.
Even though, at times, true
love can rip your world apart--and your heart with it.
She'll risk the pain.
For him, it's worth it.
FIN