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) 2012 by Djinn. This story is Rated R.
Damaged
by Djinn
Kirk sat silently
while Chapel paced the small confines of the office he had commandeered to hold
meetings in. Why the hell had
Starfleet built a ship without a proper office for its captain? Once he got older and the council
actually listened to him instead of just handing him ships for being a
goddamned hero, he planned to suggest they make an office for their commanding
officers. It wasn't as if he could
do counseling in the middle of the bridge.
Although
if he had, he'd at least have had the moral support of the rest of the crew
instead of just the manic pacing of one silent nurse who hadn't wanted to tell
Bones and wouldn't tell Kirk what the hell was going on when she was off shift.
ÒWhat
happened?Ó He'd try the direct
approach. Chapel seemed no nonsense. Why should he spend thirty words when
two would do?
She didn't
look offended, but she also didn't stop pacing or answer him, just shook her
head, trying to hide the bruises on her wrist, bruises that extended up her
arm.
ÒDid you
fall?Ó
ÒYes. Yes, I fell.Ó Her tone was almost frantic. ÒWhat the hell difference does it
make? I told Leonard this...Ó
ÒIs
someone hurting you?Ó
She
whirled on him, and he pulled back involuntarily, surprised at the expression
on her face. Anger. Pain. And resolve. ÒLeave me alone.Ó
He got up
slowly, hands out as if she were an unruly dog and not the ship's head
nurse. ÒI just want to help.Ó
ÒNo one's
hurting me. I'm not even in a
relationship. I'm just a klutz,
okay? I was working out and I
slipped. This is the result. Len completely overreacted.Ó
He studied
her face. She was trying to be
calm, but she wasn't calm. He knew
the difference, had seen it on his mother's face when she was trying to hide
something his stepfather had done.
He also knew the words were about as true as anything his mother had
ever told him—he'd seen Chapel in the gym and she wasn't a klutz.
But he'd
fought this battle and it was a losing one—if you fought it head on. ÒOkay, then. Just be more careful.Ó
ÒCan I
go?Ó
ÒBy all means.Ó He nodded at the
door, then felt stupid—she didn't need him to
tell her how to leave a room.
Overcompensating: he was back to where he'd been as a kid. Trying to make it all right. Trying to tone things down, cool things
off.
As Chapel
passed him, he looked at her arm again.
Finger marks. Those were
goddamn finger marks. If she'd hurt
herself working out, the bruises would look different.
Someone on
his crew was hurting her.
As the
door closed behind her, he sighed.
Someone on his crew was hurting her and it was now his job to find out who.
##
Gaila
looked at Christine's arm, saw that the bruises were turning dark. Usually Christine used a machine on
them, but she'd had to take it back to sickbay for inventory, had forgotten to bring
it with her the last few nights.
The bruises stood out like angry recriminations, like words hanging in a
room where the truth was never said.
ÒI'm so sorry.Ó
Christine
saw what she was looking at.
ÒForget about it.Ó She
smiled, but the smile didn't go to her eyes.
Gaila was
a master at reading expressions.
She'd had to be; it had been the only way to survive her life as a
slave. It was the reason she was
here now; she'd found the right man to befriend, a man who'd been kind enough
to set her free.
Or
perhaps cruel enough. Had he known
she'd founder once she was free?
She was fine on the job, in engineering, where things made sense and
there were rules and order. But
personal time was another issue—too unstructured, too likely she'd screw
up and make a bad choice.
ÒMaybe I
should go to the counselor instead.Ó
Gaila could hear the panic in her voice, tried to keep calm. She glanced
at Christine's arm again. Christine
had said if sheÕd talked to her, that would be enough and she wouldnÕt have to
go to the counselor. But she hadnÕt
known Gaila would hurt her—that Gaila could
hurt her. Maybe she was having
second thoughts?
ÒNo,
sweetie. Counselors are crap.Ó Christine took a deep breath, then crawled into bed.
She spooned behind Gaila, the way GailaÕs
mother had before Gaila had been forced to leave her, to live on her own, to
service customers. It had been the
only time they'd had to talk. When
her mother wasn't working. When
Gaila wasn't watching, learning, being trained. It was their special time, when the
lights were low, and their voices even more so. The only touches then were soft and
gentle, full of love.
Gaila had
screamed the night the men who owned her mother had come in and torn them
apart. Her mother had screamed,
too; her cries had rung out as Gaila was carried kicking and yelling down the
hallway, but then her mother had gone silent, the transition from noise to
silence so abrupt that Gaila had known a blow had been the cause.
She'd been
sold that night, sent far away from the only person who'd been kind to
her. She'd never seen her mother
again. Would her mother be proud of
her? For getting
away. For making this new
life, in a place where what mattered was what someone did, not what they looked
like.
ÒEasy, Gai. Easy...Ó
ÒI was
only ten years old.Ó She grabbed
onto Christine, held her arm, as if her friend could stop the pain. Christine gasped and then bit back the
sound, and Gaila realized she was holding onto the bruised part of her
arm. In the low light of her
quarters, she could tell that her fingers were sitting exactly where they had
before.
ÒI'm
sorry,Ó she said, forcing the memory back into the dull blackness she'd pushed
all her memories of that place.
ÒI'm so sorry.Ó
Why did
she always hurt the people she loved?
And she loved so few. Even
if she told every man she was with that she loved them. It was expected on Orion. The only currency she'd had. Her love equaled her body, her body
equaled sex, and her sex had value.
ÒI love you,Ó she'd said, as theyÕd taken what sheÕd offered—as
they still tended to.
Only Jim
had answered back with ÒThat is so weird.Ó
He might have been good for her—if he hadn't been using her to get
access to the Kobayashi Maru databases.
He'd used
her; so had hundreds of men—and a few women—before him. So what? It wasn't like she deserved better. And at least heÕd told her what heÕd
done.
She felt
Christine gasp again, realized she was clutching, too hard, too much. She didn't know moderation. Pike had told her that once when she
nearly collapsed after pushing herself too hard to get ready for an engineering
mock inspection.
ÒPace
yourself, Cadet.Ó He'd been
kind. He never looked at her like
she was something he'd like to gobble up.
He expected the best out of her, but he also expected her to work
sanely.
He'd been
her first crush. A man she,
finally, couldn't have. Just
thinking of him made her feel calmer, and she stroked Christine's arm.
ÒMaybe I
should spoon you?Ó she asked, and Christine nodded, but her eyes were funny, as
if she wondered what kind of damage Gaila might do to her hips or waist or
throat. ÒI won't hurt you.Ó
ÒI know
you don't want to. Whether you do
or not remains to be seen.Ó
Christine turned over though, let Gaila put her arms around her.
ÒYou
sounded like Spock.Ó
ÒI didn't
mean to.Ó
Gaila
sighed. Her friend had a crush on
the Vulcan. Didn't she know he was
head over heels in love with Nyota? How could she not know that? Gaila had known that Pike was in love
with ChristineÕs sister Number One; she'd seen them together. One look confirmed it. She'd felt a momentary sadness and then
relief that she could adore him and it would never come to anything.
Something
safe was a novel thing.
But Christine
knew better. She'd loved, been
loved—had been engaged, even.
How could she be so stupid to fall for Ny's
man? Chapel needed to take a lesson
from Gaila's book, start thinking with her head and turn her heart off. Men never wanted hearts, only bodies.
Christine
should know that.
ÒYou like
Spock.Ó The words were out before
she could bite them back. ÒYou like
him and he doesn't like you.Ó
ÒHe does
like me, he just doesn't love me.Ó
Christine was tensing in her arms, as if she knew what was coming. ÒHe's helping me with my dissertation.Ó
Helping
her? Christine was an idiot if she
thought that was all she wanted from him.
ÒBesides
he's a Vulcan. Very safe to
like.Ó Christine laughed softly.
ÒHe may be
Vulcan, but he can love. He's not
emotionless. He loves Ny.Ó
ÒI think I
prefer the bruises—can we go back to those?Ó Christine joked whenever Gaila struck
out this way. Even though Gaila
could hear the hurt in her voice, she'd keep joking all night.
Gaila
hated that she struck out. The
first time she did it, Christine had told her it was because she felt
threatened, because she felt...known.
And she was right. All those
men had held her body, but they'd never seen the real Gaila. It had been hard letting Christine
in. She hadn't let Ny in. Bu then Ny had never wanted in, not really. Gaila wasn't completely sure why
Christine wanted in. Except that
there was a darkness in her, a darkness Gaila didn't
understand but almost fed off of.
Christine
shifted. ÒDo you want to talk? Because if not I have an experiment to
get back to.Ó
An
experiment that Spock was helping her with, no doubt. Men were always more important than
friends, and Spock had stolen both Gaila's friends away.
They
weren't really her friends. Why would they be? Why would anyone be?
ÒHon'?Ó Christine was practically whimpering,
and Gaila let up on her, wanting to kiss the bruises that would show up on her
other arm, wanting to make it better the only way she knew how.
Christine
had never wanted that. Christine
didn't want her.
No, Christine valued her as a friend and wasn't going to use her just for
sex. Yes, that was it.
She had to
keep telling herself that. It was
all right. Even
if they'd left Earth. Even if they were getting dangerously close to Orion space. Even if...
ÒWhy do
you put up with me?Ó she asked.
ÒBecause
you're my friend, and I want to help you.Ó
Christine rolled over so they were facing each other, eased her forehead
against Gaila's. ÒI hurt for you.Ó
ÒNo, you
hurt because of me.Ó Gaila leaned
down and kissed the bruises.
Christine allowed it—sheÕd been around long enough to know touch was the
language Gaila spoke best.
##
Chapel
left Gaila sleeping, wincing as she reached for the door controller. She hoped she had a loaded hypospray back in her quarters, but she was afraid she'd
forgotten to refill her stash. She
needed to remember to bring back the healing unit from sickbay—if she
could find a time when Eagle-Eye McCoy wasn't watching her.
She
stepped out into the corridor, saw the captain leaning against the bulkhead,
one foot resting on the wall, arms crossed over his chest.
ÒWell,
this is interesting.Ó He gave her a
tight smile. ÒDon't pretend you're
not in pain.Ó
She turned
and headed to her quarters, ignoring him as he kept pace with her.
ÒIt's
funny. When I was with her, she
never hurt me. Guess you're just
special.Ó
ÒDon't.Ó
ÒDon't
what? Point out the extremely poor
choices you two are making?Ó
ÒWhatever
we're doing, it's our business.Ó
ÒNot when
it has my CMO complaining that his best nurse isn't on her game. And you know what a whiny bastard he can
be when he gets going.Ó He grabbed
her, shook her a little. ÒSlow
down, goddamn it.Ó
She winced,
an involuntary gasp coming out as his fingers found budding bruises.
ÒChapel. Chapel, I'm sorry.Ó
She heard
footsteps coming, pulled him into her quarters, then sat down on her bed and
bit back tears. This wasn't about
her. This was about her friend, who
needed her, who was willing to confide in her, who might explode—or
implode, more likely—if she didn't have someone she could talk to. So what if talking ended up with Chapel
hurting? It was a small price to
pay if she was helping Gaila.
ÒIs she
worth it?Ó He sat down next to
her. ÒI mean she's Orion and all,
but...Ó He
smiled tightly, trying to make what wasn't a joke funny.
She
actually appreciated that. ÒWe're
not lovers.Ó
ÒThen
why...?Ó He lifted up her sleeve,
examined the red skin that would turn purple soon if she didn't haul ass to
sickbay and treat it.
ÒShe's
really screwed up.Ó
ÒWe have
psych screenings for that. Or we're
supposed to. How the hell did she
get on my ship?Ó
His ship?
He'd had it what? Four
months? She met his eyes. ÒHow'd you pass, Captain? How'd you game the screening so they
didn't realize how completely screwed up you
are?Ó She leaned in. ÒMight want to keep your voice down the
next time you and Len play 'pass the bottle' in sickbay. I hear an awful lot from both of
you. Enough to realize that neither
of you is any more 'all right' than I am.Ó
He looked
surprised at her admission, then leaned in. ÒHow'd you game it, Chapel?Ó
ÒHow do
you think? They never get us. Not really. We're functionally damaged, but we test
well. They can't see that we're the
walking wounded. Bodies
of cast iron and hearts of shattered glass. They don't look for that;
they can't.Ó
ÒPoetic.Ó He ran his fingers lightly over Gaila's
finger marks. ÒBut you're not cast
iron.Ó
ÒI'm
helping her.Ó But was she? Was she really?
ÒChris,
this doesn't look like help.Ó
ÒIt's
Christine.Ó
ÒNobody
calls you Chris?Ó
She shook
her head.
ÒGood,
it's my special name for you, then.Ó
He smiled. ÒAnd that didn't
distract me. We have a counselor on
board. Gaila should see her, not
you, about this.Ó
ÒHow have
you done with counselors over the years, sir? I know how I have.Ó She met his eyes. ÒI'm helping her, sir.Ó
ÒMy name's
Jim.Ó
She could
tell he was using his name to soften her up, but she thought it might soften
him up, too. To
hear it. To be called a name
other than sir or captain. ÒJim,
I'm helping her.Ó
She saw
something in his eyes, something that resonated with what she was saying. Then it died.
ÒYou can't
help her, Chris. She'll suck the
life out of you if you try.Ó
ÒShe's not
your mother.Ó
He tensed,
and for a moment, she thought he might hit her. But then he relaxed, and she realized he
wasn't like that, had forced himself not to be like that.
She wished
her father had learned the same lesson when his daddy beat him, wished he
hadn't carried the tradition on to Chapel.
She wished she didn't know how it felt to tiptoe around, to watch
expressions just to gauge how ÒsafeÓ you were.
No one
should have to wonder how safe she was in her own home.
ÒGaila's life—itÕs been extreme, Jim. You can't imagine. She's so light and happy—but
that's the face she puts on. Her
life was horrible. And we talk
about it. I'm the only person she
has who she will talk to. DonÕt take that away.Ó She leaned in. ÒSheÕs doing so well in
engineering. IsnÕt she?Ó
She knew
Gaila was. Scotty raved about
her. She was his favorite protŽgŽ.
ÒItÕs just
the down time thatÕs a problem. And
weÕre working on that. DonÕt interfere,
Jim.Ó She moved closer, took his
hands, pressed them, felt him press back. ÒPlease?Ó
ÒYou canÕt
help her.Ó But he got up and
sighed, and then said, ÒIÕll tell Bones to stop riding you. But IÕll still be watching.Ó
ÒThank
you.Ó
ÒDonÕt thank
me. I doubt IÕve done you any
favors.Ó
##
Kirk took
a deep breath before comming his grandmother. He loved her, probably more than anyone
else in his life, but he wished he hadnÕt needed her so many times as a
boy.
ÒJames,Ó
his grandmother smiled at him, her eyes a bit clouded, her
hands shaking as she adjusted her old-fashioned viewscreen. ÒHowÕs my boy?Ó
Her
boy. HeÕd always been her boy no
matter how much he acted up, no matter how many stupid pranks he pulled. SheÕd taken him in more than once, had
held him and let him cry his heart out and didnÕt comment on the bruises she
found on him. SheÕd told him
stories of his father, what heÕd been like when he was growing up, how much she
loved him.
SheÕd been
the only safe thing in his life. Until Pike, until this new life.
ÒIÕm
good. ShipÕs good.Ó
ÒAnd your
friends?Ó
He
grinned. HeÕd never had friends as
a boy, just partners in crime. This
trust he had with Bones, with Spock, with Scotty and Sulu and Uhura, it was
new. It was nice. He didnÕt have the first idea how to
manage it, but it seemed to be taking care of itself on its own. He just tried to stay out of the
way. ÒTheyÕre great, Gram.Ó
ÒIÕm
glad. And have you found a nice
girl to settle down with?Ó
For a moment,
he thought about Uhura. Then he
forced his mind off her and was surprised to find himself thinking of blonde
hair, blue eyes, bruised skin, and a terrible look of resolve.
His
mother. Chapel looked like his
mother. Except his mother had never
been that resolved. Resolve had taken one look at Winona Kirk and run screaming
from the room.
ÒJames?Ó His grandmother was laughing softly, as
if he seemed embarrassed or something.
ÒOh, no,
Gram. Just someone who reminds me
of home.Ó
Her look
changed. ÒHome as in me? Or home as in your mother?Ó
ÒKind of
both, I think.Ó
She looked surprised.
ÒDo you
think if IÕd known what I was doing, I could have helped Mom?Ó
ÒNo,
darling. She didnÕt want to be
helped. She still doesnÕt.Ó
No, she
didnÕt want to be. She didnÕt want
to be in KirkÕs life anymore. Had
skipped all the ceremonies that meant he was succeeding, not screwing up. HadnÕt commed
when heÕd shipped out after being made captain.
She didnÕt
care about him.
Chapel
wasnÕt faced with that. Not
according to her. Gaila wanted
help. Gaila wasnÕt his mom, and
neither was Chapel.
ÒYouÕre
thinking awfully hard, James.Ó
ÒSorry. Bad habit lately.Ó
ÒSo, get
on with it and tell me whatÕs going on.
Only the interesting parts, though.
IÕm old and may not have much time left.Ó
He laughed
and told her about his week.
##
Gaila
watched as Scotty demonstrated what he said was an old technique, but she
thought it was probably something heÕd just made up and didnÕt want to tell
them was new and untried. He was
like that, had learned his lesson, apparently, when theyÕd exiled him to Delta
Vega. He was pretending now. Pretending to be not quite as brilliant
as he was, at least until his first year was up.
He never
pretended when he was alone with Gaila.
HeÕd say, ÒLass, this isnÕt the way they taught you at the Academy, but
what do those blowhards know?Ó And
then heÕd show her something that worked twice as well and took half as long.
She
worshipped Mister Scott. SheÕd have
slept with him if heÕd wanted it, but he never went there, and she wondered if
it was because he didnÕt find her attractive, or if he did but just wouldnÕt do
it because he was her boss. She
supposed it could be that he didnÕt think she was pretty; some people didnÕt
like green. But she didnÕt get that vibe from him. It was more that once she put on an
engineerÕs uniform, she became part of his club. Part of the inner sanctum, one of those
who got it, really got it.
She didnÕt
just work in Engineering. She was Engineering.
ThatÕs how he described it.
ThatÕs how the best of them were: part of the ship.
SheÕd
never been part of anything until Star Fleet accepted her. And even at the Academy sheÕd been the
outsider, the green girl. The sexy,
slutty, but thankfully smart girl.
But here
in Engineering, she wasnÕt an outsider.
Finally, it was only the smart part that mattered. At least to Scotty. Ensign Yates kept giving her the
eye. And Parsons snuck looks at her
when he thought she wasnÕt looking.
But Scotty never did. He
just met her with his direct look and weird humor and didnÕt look at her chest
even by accident.
ÒCaptain
on deck,Ó someone called out, and she rolled her eyes. You did that for admirals, not captains
on their own ships, or youÕd be doing nothing but that. Did people not pay attention during the
protocol course?
ÒThanks
for that. Are you going to announce
the queen next?Ó Scotty asked, the mockery almost lost
in his accent as he walked over to Jim.
ÒCaptain.Ó
ÒMister
Scott.Ó Jim looked around the
engine room. He nodded at her in
what was clearly a professional way, then moved on.
She loved
that he did that. DidnÕt ogle
despite the fact theyÕd slept together.
DidnÕt leer. He treated her
like just another member of his crew.
He looked
good. In control. In command. SheÕd been unsure of staying if he was
going to be in charge. Thought it
might be awkward, but heÕd made it easy.
ÒAs you
were,Ó he said as he motioned for Scotty to walk with him, his head close to
ScottyÕs, as if they were working up a practical joke—or coming up with
some new version of transwarp beaming.
Scotty
listened for a moment, then he turned to her. ÒEnsign Gaila. Come give us the benefit of your wisdom,
wonÕt you?Ó
She
hurried over and smiled at Jim, then looked at Scotty, trying to be the
professional, not an excited girl who couldnÕt believe heÕd singled her out in
front of everyone.
ÒThe
captain has a few ideas for making our ship have greater thrust in a crisis.Ó
ÒIÕd like
to avoid having to eject the core next time we hit a singularity,Ó Jim said
with a smile.
ÒAye, IÕd
like to avoid that, too. My poor
wee engines deserve better.Ó
Wee? She looked around the enormous engine
room and smiled. She loved how
Scotty talked, even if at first sheÕd been completely confused by his accent
and the way he said one thing and meant another.
ÒItÕs
based on what you were talking about, Scotty. In the bar the other night on Delentia.Ó He
pulled out a padd. ÒI wrote it all
down after you left with that lovely brunette.Ó
Scotty
smiled and sighed. ÒAye, she was a
wonder.Ó He included Gaila in the
smile, as if she was just one of the boys.
Jim held
the padd out to her, let her study what heÕd come up with. ÒWhat do you think, Gai?Ó
She met
his eyes. ÒThis is
interesting. It could work.Ó
ÒCan you
test it without tearing apart my ship?Ó
She
laughed. ÒYes.Ó
ÒThen do it.Ó
She took
the padd from him and transferred the data to her own, then handed his
back. ÒIÕll get right on it.Ó She heard
Scotty cough quietly. ÒAfter I
finish what I was doing.Ó
ÒAfter
hours is fine, too,Ó the captain said.
ÒIf you want a project to keep you busy.Ó
ÒAfter
hours would be great.Ó Kill some of
that horrible free time she never knew what to do with. Maybe give Christine a break from
playing mother-shrink.
He held
her gaze. ÒYou doing all right
here? Scotty treating you right?Ó
ÒMister
Scott is amazing.Ó She saw her boss
blush and laughed. ÒAnd yes, IÕm
very happy here, sir.Ó
ÒGood. Good.Ó He seemed to want to say more, and she
waited, but he just shook his head and smiled in what looked like an
uncomfortable way. ÒOkay,
then. Carry on.Ó
ÒAye,
sir.Ó She stuck her padd into her
pocket and went back to the engines.
The padd pressed against her leg as if urging her to pay attention to
it, not her tasks. She had to work
to ignore it; she couldnÕt wait to get started.
##
Chapel saw
the captain come into the rec lounge and waited until he was alone before
walking over and asking, in a casual, low voice, as if she wasnÕt spitting mad,
ÒWhat the hell do you think youÕre doing?Ó
ÒHmm?Ó
ÒGaila and
her extra credit project.Ó
ÒOh, sheÕs
not actually getting any extra credit.
Did she think she was?Ó He
gave her a tight little smile.
ÒHowÕs the arm?Ó
ÒYou had
no right to interfere.Ó
ÒActually,
I did. You both work for me. You both work on this ship—a ship
I need to keep running at optimum level.
GaiÕs happy, and more importantly busy during
her down time. YouÕre getting some
actual rest, and Bones has quit bitching to me about you every five
minutes. Win, win, win.Ó
McCoy had
quit riding her, so sheÕd thought heÕd quit bothering the captain with
this. But apparently cutting him
off at the pass was harder than sheÕd expected.
ÒCan I buy
you a drink, Chris?Ó
ÒFine,
sir.Ó
ÒI told
you my name was Jim. Use it. IÕm sick of being sirred.Ó
She
followed him to the bar.
ÒYou know,
there are five kinds of women in the world.Ó
ÒReally?Ó
He
nodded. ÒWine drinkers. Beer drinkers. Non drinkers. Fruity concoctions
with umbrella drinkers. And
those who appreciate good hooch.Ó
She
waited, giving him nothing.
ÒI think
youÕre in the last group.Ó
ÒSorry,
Jim, but I like my drinks blue with multiple parasols.Ó She motioned the bartender over. ÒIÕll have a scotch, neat. My friend here will have the same. Only make his a double. Oh, and itÕs on his tab.Ó
ÒNice. And see. I was right.Ó
ÒYou were
right. IÕd give you a gold star,
but IÕm fresh out so thoseÓ—she waved at the viewport, where the starstream in warp showed—Òwill have to do.Ó
ÒThey more
than do.Ó For a moment he looked
still and happy, then he turned to her.
ÒGaiÕs fine for the moment, Chris. You werenÕt fine.Ó
ÒYouÕre a
doctor suddenly?Ó
ÒNo. But I know when someoneÕs not getting
anywhere but is too damned stubborn to quit trying, or to take a moment to see
if maybe their path needs tweaking.Ó
ÒWhich do
I need to do?Ó
ÒI donÕt
know. I doubt you know yet. But maybe with some time, youÕll figure
it out. In the meantime, Scotty
tells me Gaila is constantly accosting him with ideas sheÕs building off my
modest little suggestion. SheÕs
happy.Ó
ÒFor now.Ó
ÒYes. For now. Sometimes thatÕs all you can ask.Ó He sipped at his drink, but she had the
feeling heÕd like to have thrown it back and have another. ÒDo you dance?Ó
ÒI do.Ó
ÒDo you
want to dance with me?Ó
ÒI donÕt
know.Ó She saw a grin start to
grow; the man loved a challenge, there was no doubt of that. ÒJim, you irritate me.Ó
ÒI get
that a lot.Ó He smiled but there
was something underneath the smile, something that went very deep.
She
finished her drink in one swallow, as if Scotch was a shot of tequila. ÒI didnÕt really mean that.Ó
ÒThatÕs
nice of you. But I do get it a lot.Ó He finished his drink and took her hand,
leading her out to the dance floor.
He was a
good dancer. She hadnÕt expected that.
It was a slow number and he did more than sway; he knew how to lead, how
to hold her just so.
ÒMy
grandmother taught me to dance,Ó he said, as if sheÕd asked the question. ÒItÕs a happy memory.Ó
She could
tell that happy memories were not the norm for him. ÒShe was a good teacher.Ó
ÒShe
was—is a good everything.Ó He
sighed, then pulled her closer. ÒGaila will be fine, Chris. Just...just let things be for a while.Ó
It was
comfortable with him. They fit
together nicely. She settled her
head in the crook of his neck, smiled as he ran his hand over her upper back.
She
decided she could let things be. For a while.
##
Gaila saw Nyota sitting alone in the mess hall and walked over. ÒDo you want company or is he joining
you?Ó
She never
used SpockÕs name, just in case there was a crewman on the ship who hadnÕt
figured out these two were together.
ÒEven if
he were joining me, Gai, you could still sit here.Ó
Gaila
nodded tightly as she put her tray down and sat.
ÒIÕm
serious. The captain joins us. Sulu joins us. Hell, even Chekov muscles his way in,
although itÕs usually just to talk obscure science with Spock.Ó She grinned. ÒHeÕs really a strange kid.Ó
Gaila
laughed, feeling finally like they were roommates again, sharing secrets and
having inside jokes. ÒHe really
is. But cute.Ó
ÒYeah,
heÕs growing on me.Ó Nyota leaned forward.
ÒIs he growing on you?Ó Her
eyebrows went up and down in a way that made Gaila giggle.
ÒOn
me? IÕd leave the poor child
scarred for life.Ó
ÒNo, you
wouldnÕt. Why would you say
that?Ó Nyota
was frowning, probably because sheÕd never woken up with finger marks.
Not that Pavel would, either.
Gaila couldnÕt imagine sharing her darkness with him, sheÕd open her
mouth and the first word would get swallowed up in his sunny eagerness.
Nyota frowned. ÒWhat?Ó
ÒNothing.Ó
ÒNo, you
looked funny.Ó Nyota
was leaning forward. ÒIf you like
him, I didnÕt mean to tease...?Ó
ÒItÕs not
that. ItÕs not anything. Really.Ó She gave Nyota
the brilliant smile that fooled nearly everyone. ÒIÕm distracted. New project. Exciting.Ó
ÒYeah? Tell me everything.Ó
For once,
Gaila could.
##
Kirk saw
Chapel sitting by herself in the rec lounge, watching Spock and Uhura as they
talked with Bones. He recognized
the look on her face, figured it wasnÕt for Uhura. Ordering a drink for her to go with the
one for himself, he walked over and sat down next to
her.
ÒDid I say
you could do that?Ó
ÒI have
single malt for you.Ó
ÒOkay,
fine, you can do that.Ó She smiled
and it was actually a nice smile.
ÒWhatÕs the occasion?Ó
ÒTo
hopeless crushes.Ó He glanced
toward Spock and Uhura and then smiled gently. ÒI have one. You have one. HereÕs to getting over them.Ó
ÒIÕll
drink to that.Ó She clinked her
glass against his. ÒYours is for Nyota, right?Ó
He
laughed. ÒYes.Ó
ÒGood. IÕd hate to think I was competing with two
of you for Spock.Ó She
grinned.
ÒNope,
heÕs all not yours.Ó He shook his
head as he surveyed the room. ÒThey
do know how to have a good time.Ó
Gaila especially. She was in
a crowd of men, all eagerly hoping by the looks on their faces that sheÕd
notice them. She was a pro, though,
at giving everyone a little bit of attention and no one too much. He liked the moderation sheÕd started to
show. ÒSheÕs not sleeping with
everyone who asks anymore, is she?Ó he asked softly.
ÒNope.Ó She sighed. ÒBut still a lot of them.Ó
ÒWell, she
is Orion. Sex is sort of like
breathing for them.Ó
ÒI know,
but her reputation is all she has.Ó
ÒWell,
Scotty will make sure a good bit of her reputation is for how damned smart she
is.Ó He leaned back. ÒWhy are you helping her? I would have thought Uhura might have
but how did you get involved?Ó
ÒUhura
didnÕt even see what was going on with Gai. No one did.Ó
ÒI
wouldnÕt say no one did.Ó
ÒOh,
youÕre saying you did? Mister use
her for the codes to the Kobayashi Maru and then dump her?Ó
ÒShe told
you about that?Ó
Chapel
nodded.
ÒDamn.Ó He met her eyes. ÒGuilty as charged. But...I have an explanation.Ó
ÒOf course
you do.Ó
ÒI didnÕt
have to let her know I did that. I could
have covered my tracks better and she wouldnÕt have been the wiser. But...I wanted her to be more careful
who she trusted. What she was
willing to do for lovers. I wanted
to...Ó
ÒTo teach
her a lesson?Ó
ÒThat
sounds so harsh. But yes.Ó
ÒWell, it
worked. SheÕs definitely been more
circumspect on what she says about work.
And IÕm working on her self esteem.Ó
ÒIs that
before or after she crushes your arms?Ó
He frowned. ÒShe never
seemed that strong.Ó
ÒSheÕs
not. Usually. But she gets in the memory and I let her
go. I let her remember, and she
goes deep, and her reaction is to hold on.
And I bruise easily. I always
have. She just doesnÕt know how to
hide it the way my fath—Ó
He waited,
but she was staring resolutely down, her face going white instead of red. He could tell she hadnÕt meant to say
that, and she was mad at herself for letting it slip, not embarrassed.
ÒSo he
beat you? My stepdad used to think
it was fun to wallop the shit out of my mom and me, too.Ó He waited, just let the statement hang
there, sipped his drink and watched his crew.
He waited
so long he thought she wasnÕt going to bite. But then she said, ÒThen you
understand?Ó
ÒI fully
understand.Ó He turned so he was
sitting more sideways, facing her, his knee up. ÒTell me?Ó
ÒI donÕt
talk about it.Ó
ÒI donÕt,
either. Maybe itÕs time we did.Ó
She
drained her drink. ÒGet me another
first?Ó
ÒYouÕve
got it.Ó He finished his, got up
and secured refills, and hurried back, almost afraid sheÕd be gone, but she was
still there. He handed her the
drink then sat down, closer, so they could talk as quietly as theyÕd need to.
ÒI always
thought my mother was the volatile one in my parentsÕ relationship. But when she left, I realized she was the
one who grounded my father. He was
lost without her. Lost and
angry.Ó She took a sip of her
drink. ÒAngry meant violent.Ó She met his eyes.
ÒYeah,
when my dad died, my mom remarried.
My stepfather was a piece of work.
Especially once he realized he could never live up to the legend that
was George Kirk. ThatÕs when he
really lost it.Ó
ÒI think
my dad lost it when he realized mom was never coming back. And when my sister and I both started
looking just like her. Gwen got out
before he turned bad. SheÕs older.Ó
ÒSheÕs
with Admiral Pike.Ó
ÒDefine
with.Ó Chapel didnÕt smile.
ÒI donÕt
think I need to, do I? At his side. In his bed.
Whatever. SheÕs clearly
important to him and vice versa.
She was at his side every time I went to visit him when he was
recuperating.Ó
ÒYeah,
thatÕs Gwen. Pike is her
life.Ó Bitterness surrounded her
words.
ÒShe left
you there.Ó
ÒYep.Ó Chapel looked down. ÒI mean, she
was in Star Fleet. I donÕt know
what I thought sheÕd do with me, but she was living this free life that did not
include being beaten.Ó
ÒDid you
tell her?Ó
ÒShe
didnÕt care.Ó
ÒDid you
tell her?Ó He reached over. ÒListen, I understand if you
didnÕt. My grandmother—my
fatherÕs mother—she wasnÕt welcome at our house, but sheÕd find ways to
see me. I didnÕt tell her,
either. She noticed it one day when
she hugged me too hard. Then she
found ways to get me away.Ó
ÒAt least
you had that.Ó Chapel looked
down. ÒAlthough I got myself
away. The hard way.Ó She laughed softly. ÒSpent some time in a juvenile
facility. Impulse
control problems. Anger
management issues.Ó
ÒOh, man,
have I heard those phrases in my life.Ó
She
smiled, but then her smile faded.
He leaned
in, asked softly, ÒDid your dad...?Ó
She seemed
to know what he was asking without him having to finish the thought. ÒNo, he had his girlfriends for sex and
me for kicking the shit out of.
Only he had this one girl, Stephanie. She was sweet. So nice to me. I actually think...Ó She swallowed hard. ÒI think I sort of loved her.Ó
ÒItÕs okay
to love people.Ó
ÒIÕm not
sure itÕs smart, though.Ó She took
a long sip of her drink. ÒAnyway,
she was cooking dinner and I was setting the table. I must have been about twelve at the
time. The age girls get really
surly. My dad didnÕt like the way I
was doing the job. I canÕt even
tell you if I was doing it right or not.
But he just exploded.
Knocked me across the room.
I hit my face on the edge of a table. Next night was a dance at school. I actually was going. Now I was going to look like crap. I came up spitting mad.Ó
ÒNot
good.Ó
ÒNever good. Fighting back just
makes it worse. TheyÕre like
bears. You should just huddle up,
protect your vitals, and play dead.Ó
He reached
out, touched the back of her neck, was happy to see
she didnÕt flinch so he started to rub it.
ÒYep, thatÕs probably the best thing to do.Ó
She smiled
at him. ÒHow many times you do
that?Ó
ÒPretty
much never.Ó
ÒFigures. Me, neither. I always riled him up worse. But this time, she got in the way. She tried to talk him down. Leave her alone and all that. SheÕs just a kid.Ó Chris seemed very far away. ÒHe hit her so hard. And it was the look in her eye that did
it more than anything. That shock,
you know? That he could hit her,
too.Ó Her eyes turned hard. ÒI went to the stove and I picked up the
pan. Nice solid cast iron one. We were studying anatomy in school. I was a straight A
student with barely passing grades, if you get my drift?Ó
ÒI
completely get your drift. I was
the same way.Ó He winked.
ÒI knew
where to hit him. I intended to end
him. You know?Ó
He nodded.
ÒBut she
got in the way. She protected
him. And the oil went all over her
arm. And the pan hit him wrong. Still got him good, but not in the
temple. He was in a coma for three
days. She had second degree burns
on her arm—never forgave me.
I spent time in juvenile rehabilitation while they tried to figure why I
did it.Ó She laughed, the sound so
sad and bitter it made his heart hurt.
ÒSo if youÕre planning to ask me at any point tonight why IÕm not
letting the counselors near Gai, thatÕs why. My dad, he never had anything done to
him. StephanieÕs
still with him. IÕm not
welcome there. Gwen
is embarrassed by me. And I
have a notation in my record from an Academy psychologist that says: ÔCadet
Chapel may not be fleet material and I recommend her commission with
reservations.ÕÓ
ÒHow do
you know that? Psyche records are
sealed.Ó He was grinning.
She shrugged. ÒMaybe not if you work in medical. At any rate, I can see it but I canÕt do
anything about it. ItÕs there.Ó She looked down, and this time her face
was red.
ÒActually,
itÕs not.Ó He smiled as she looked
up at him. ÒI saw that in there when I was trying to figure out what was going on with
you and Gaila.Ó At her look, he
held up a hand. ÒBefore you tear me
a new one, listen to what I have to say.
IÕve also seen you at work.
IÕve talked to Bones about you—not about Gaila or anything else
personal, about your work. I donÕt
happen to agree with whoever wrote that footnote. So, I decided to use my powers for good
this time. ItÕs gone.Ó
ÒYou
erased it?Ó
ÒI
did. Pfffffft,
itÕs gone. Magic.Ó He took a sip of his drink. ÒWhy do you think the shrink said that?Ó
ÒI was
angry at Roger when I changed tracks from biochem to
nursing. I didnÕt tell the shrink I
thought IÕd probably get my M.D. eventually—I have enough credits
practically. Or maybe IÕll do
something else. IÕm still
searching, I think.Ó
ÒSo am I,Ó
he said with a grin.
She
laughed. ÒHe was concerned about my
impulse control.Ó
ÒWhat have
you done thatÕs impulsive? Other
than your little crush and trying to help a friend?Ó
ÒWell,
thereÕs spilling my guts to you.Ó
ÒThatÕs
not impulsive. ThatÕs shared
pain. What else?Ó He could see she liked the way he
accepted and moved on.
ÒI donÕt
know. ThatÕs the thing. ItÕs like he could not get past my early
crimes. I was no saint in
rehab—he could see it from the notes in my file. Some girls wither living like that, but
I didnÕt. I was angry. I was
strong. I didnÕt give a damn if I
lived or died.Ó
ÒDeadly
combo.Ó
She
nodded. ÒYou can end up sort of
running things if you want it bad enough—if youÕre willing to fight for
it. Alternative management as it were. That was
in my file, too. They tell you itÕs
expunged when you reach maturity, but itÕs not. Because Starfleet sure could get their
hands on it.Ó
ÒDid your
sister ever come see you?Ó
ÒIn that
place? Are you kidding me? SheÕd have died of embarrassment. You know her nickname, right? Number One. Hell, itÕs her name now. I think a
handful of people know her real name anymore. I was the family fuck-up. Worse than dad, even. He at least kept his crimes in house.Ó
ÒAnd
thatÕs why youÕre so hell bent on helping Gaila. Because no one ever helped you.Ó
She was
about to protest, but stopped, seemed to be thinking about it and he liked her
for that—liked her better. He
was already liking her quite a bit as it was.
ÒMaybe
youÕre right. Do you think thatÕs
wrong?Ó
ÒDo you
think youÕre helping her?Ó
ÒI
do.Ó She smiled, and it was a
softly beautiful smile he didnÕt expect.
ÒYour project is helping her, too.
ItÕs more than just a distraction.
SheÕs having fun and sheÕs good at it.Ó
ÒI know
she is.Ó
ÒYouÕre a
good man.Ó
ÒDonÕt
spread it around.Ó He realized he
was still rubbing her neck—had he been doing that the whole time? He slowly pulled his hand away. ÒIf you ever need to talk. About anything. Even non serious
things. Or you just want to
drink. Or dance. Or even breathe in my vicinity. IÕm very open to that.Ó
She
smiled. ÒIÕve heard youÕre easy.Ó
He
squinted as if sheÕd hurt him but then grinned to let her know she hadnÕt. ÒIÕm easy to get into bed
with—although less so on this ship.
IÕm finding it awkward to be quite so...available here. But IÕve never been easy to get to know
and if you polled the women whoÕve slept with me—and you have my
permission to do that, by the way—youÕd find they know very, very little
about me. And that you already know
much, much more.Ó
ÒI think
youÕd find the same about me. Only
without the easy to get into bed part.Ó
He leaned in, let his lips linger at her ear. ÒThat just makes it better.Ó Then he got up. ÒThank you for a very enlightening
evening.Ó
ÒThank you
for listening.Ó
ÒAnytime.Ó
##
Gaila woke
up, curled around Christine. She
checked for bruises before Christine woke up, found very few and let out the
breath sheÕd been holding. Last
night had felt...different. For
one, sheÕd spent some of the time talking about the project she was working on
for Jim and Mister Scott. And then
sheÕd been surprised when Christine had let some things slip, that her father
had been mean. That she understood
what it felt like to be locked up, to be not free.
Gaila had
felt something tear loose inside her, but in a good way. Like the feeling of
apartness, of being the only one, was gone. Maybe others werenÕt as perfect as they
seemed? Maybe they hid their damage
differently than she did.
Christine
sighed softly and Gaila kissed her on the lips. SheÕd welcome this woman as her lover
but didnÕt need her to be. But she
liked the easy contact, appreciated that Christine was willing to give her
that—the same way her mother had.
ÒGood morning, sleepyhead.Ó
ÒChrist,
what time is it? IÕm always awake
before you.Ó
ÒThatÕs
because youÕre usually in pain.
Look, hardly any bruises.Ó
Christine
inspected her arms and gave Gaila a brilliant smile. ÒThese wonÕt even show if I wear my
three quarter sleeves. IÕm
starving. Are you starving?Ó
Gaila
nodded eagerly. Happy that
Christine was in such a great mood.
Normally, she was in a hurry to get away, to get cleaned up. To hide the evidence
of their night.
She hit
her shower while Christine went to her quarters. They met a few minutes later in the
corridor and chatted easily as they walked to the mess. There was no line and Gaila saw
Christine wave at someone, realized it was Jim and that Christine wanted them
to go sit with him.
She
grabbed her friendÕs elbow. ÒIÕve
slept with him,Ó she said as softly as she could.
ÒActually,
you had sex with him, youÕve slept with me,Ó Christine murmured back.
ÒWell,
true.Ó Gaila pouted, a look that usually
got her what she wanted.
Nothing. ÒBut you like him,
and he likes you.Ó
ÒOh, shut
up and be brave. WeÕre friends, the
three of us. No matter who likes
whom any other way.Ó Christine had her ÒQueen of the BrothelÓ
look on, and Gaila wondered if she knew how intimidating she was when she was
like that. Or how much someone like
Gaila wanted to follow her when she wore it. How safe Gaila felt with her—like
nothing could hurt her.
She led
Gaila over to JimÕs table.
ÒExpecting an exotic alien princess or may we
join you?Ó
ÒWell, I
was expecting one, but sheÕs damned late, so sheÕs on her own. Please?Ó
Christine
sat next to him. Gaila chose the
seat across, then immediately wondered if the one next to him would have been
better. No, she was here with
Christine. Not with Jim—err,
the captain.
ÒHowÕs the
project coming, Gai?Ó His grin was easy, still the cadet in
some ways but also a bit older around the eyes. Like becoming captain
had aged him even if he seemed to love it.
ÒThank you
so much for letting me do this, sir.Ó
ÒGai, I think you can all me Jim, when weÕre alone. God knows weÕve got the history.Ó
And in
that moment, she loved him for how easily he set to rest their past, his
betrayal and the present. ÒJim.Ó
She smiled. ÒWell, itÕs going
great, so thank you.Ó
Christine
was beaming at her.
ÒAnd you,
Chris. How is my favorite nurse
today?Ó
ÒIÕm the
only nurse you know.Ó
ÒThatÕs
not true,Ó Gaila said. ÒHe slept
with Betty Suzanne and Mariella.Ó
Two sets
of blue eyes turned to glare at her.
She gave
them her most charming smile. ÒNot
the right thing to say?Ó
ÒLetÕs
clear that up a little, shall we?
When did I do that?Ó He was
looking at her very intently and she tried to read what he wanted from her. Then she looked at Christine, who was
also very intent.
ÒOhhhh, before.
Before you got the ship. At the Academy.
When you were still a big man slut.Ó She smiled at Christine. ÒHeÕs not now.Ó
Christine
started to laugh. It took a moment
but finally Jim started to laugh, too.
ÒWell, IÕm
glad we cleared that up.Ó Jim
started to tuck into his eggs.
Gaila
pulled Christine over to her, whispered in her ear, ÒFor what itÕs worth, he
never came up with a special name for anyone that I know of. And you donÕt ever let anyone call you
Chris. You told me not to.Ó
Christine
just smiled.
ÒWhat? What is she saying to you?Ó
ÒSomething
good. Just shut up and eat.Ó The look Christine gave Jim was a sweet
one.
Gaila smiled. She smiled even more
when Nyota and Spock came in and neither Jim nor
Christine seemed to even notice.
##
Chapel
woke up to Gaila thrashing in her arms, crying out so softly she couldnÕt make
out the words.
ÒWake up, Gai. YouÕre
safe.Ó She felt GailaÕs
fingerÕs pressing down hard on her hands, then an unexpected release as her
friend turned and burrowed against her, sobbing. In all the time sheÕd been helping
Gaila, sheÕd never known her to cry.
ÒBaby, baby, itÕs all right.Ó
ÒYouÕre so
strong,Ó Gaila said between almost hiccupping sobs. ÒYou remind me of her so much. I know I should go to the counselor, but
you remind me of her so much.Ó
ÒWho.Ó
ÒMy
mother. She kept me safe. You keep me safe. I donÕt think you even know you do it,
but you do.Ó She went back to crying,
clutching Chapel, but not hard, not hurting her at all. ÒI love you. And I donÕt mean that the way I say it
to the men. And I donÕt mean IÕm in
love with you. I just mean I love
you. IÕm glad youÕre in my
life. IÕve never really had a
friend before.Ó
ÒNyotaÕs your friend, Gaila. And Chekov and Uhura.Ó
ÒNo,
theyÕre my peers. And Nyota was my...pal, I guess? But they donÕt know me. Only you. And maybe Jim, a
little. HeÕs dark, too,
isnÕt he?Ó
Chapel
hesitated, but then she nodded.
ÒYes, heÕs dark, too.Ó She
imagined Leonard had his darker side, too, if sheÕd bother to let him in, which
so far she hadnÕt. But sheÕd had a
taste of being involved with her boss and wasnÕt eager to do it again.
Of course
one could argue that her friendship—or whatever was happening with
Jim—was just trading one type of boss for an even bigger one. But Jim was different. Jim was...familiar territory. Another wounded soul.
Dark.
ÒWhat were
you dreaming about?Ó she asked gently.
Gaila took
a deep, shuddering breath. ÒMy
first time.Ó
ÒIt was
bad?Ó
Gaila
laughed, a laugh so profoundly bitter, it sent chills down ChapelÕs spine. ÒNo, itÕs worse. ItÕs...Ó She pulled away, played with
ChapelÕs hair, something that always seemed to calm her. ÒWeÕre supposed to be luscious,
sensuous. They donÕt want us
damaged. They donÕt want us
scared. They bring the best of the
best of the men, and they feed us drugs to make us pliable and aroused. And they give us pleasure. And make us ready for our lives as the whores
of the galaxy.Ó Her fingers caught
in ChapelÕs hair.
Chapel
didnÕt cry out, and a moment later, Gaila let go without being prompted. ÒWhen I first got here, at the Academy,
I was still acting like I was a whore.Ó
ÒYou were
free with your body. ThereÕs a
difference.Ó
ÒNo,
Christine. Now, IÕm free with my
body. Then...I was still that Gaila. The slave.Ó She cuddled around Chapel. ÒDonÕt let them tell you that freedom is
a mantle you assume. ItÕs not. ItÕs a weight, too. Just as heavy as the
slave chains. Just as
difficult to learn to navigate under if slavery is all youÕve known.Ó
Chapel
hugged her close, kissed her neck.
ÒWhen I was first at the Academy, an upperclassman took a dislike to
me. Made my life a living hell. IÕve told you a little bit about my
father. How much I hate him and
what he did to me. But Gaila, I
wanted to attack this upperclassman.
If IÕd been at the rehab center, I would have gone after her—and I
would have won. I went to see one
of the counselors about it. Told
him she was bullying me, what a hard time I was having not retaliating. He told me I needed to grow a thicker
skin. Told me he was worried that I
considered violence as an option.
But I hadnÕt reached for it, didnÕt want to be like my dad, and the
counselor didnÕt seem to get it.Ó
This was
the same psychologist who had put his reservations about her in her
record. Reservations Jim had now
expunged.
ÒSo I
understand what youÕre saying, Gai. We may long for what we donÕt have. But the way we grew up: itÕs inside
us. ItÕs what we are and we have to
work to not let it define us.Ó
Gaila
kissed her again. ÒYou do
understand.Ó She began to hum a
song, and Chapel imagined it was a lullaby GailaÕs
mother must have sung to her. ÒGo
to sleep, Christine. Dream of Jim. I
think he might love you.Ó
ÒHe loves
everyone.Ó
ÒNo, he
doesnÕt. And you know it.Ó
##
Kirk sat
next to Spock, wondering if the discussions with the Horvathian
delegation were ever going to end.
Their main interlocutor had the charisma of a Rhodilian
sea snail. Even Spock looked bored
and Kirk had to work to hide a grin.
Finally
the talk wrapped up, with neither side having come any closer to a decision on
Federation use rights of the Horvathian satellites,
but plenty of time had been used up to come to that state. The Horvathians
seemed satisfied.
ÒMore
progress should be made tomorrow,Ó Spock said softly as the other delegation
filed out.
ÒIs that a
prediction or a plea to some deity?Ó
Spock
seemed too tired to try to hide the slight tick of his lips. ÒThe former.Ó
ÒGreat.Ó He leaned back, studied the conference
room theyÕd been stuck in all day.
ÒSupposed to be some good restaurants on this Star Base.Ó
ÒSo I have
been told.Ó
ÒDouble
date? You and the
fair Nyota? Me and Chris?Ó
ÒYou are
seeing Nurse Chapel?Ó
ÒYou have
a problem with that, my friend?Ó
ÒOn the
contrary. Her command of the
sciences is impressive. She is
wasted in sickbay.Ó
ÒDonÕt let
Bones hear you say that.Ó Kirk
laughed. ÒOh, wait, you said that
to him last week.Ó
ÒI
did. Just after he called me a
racially inappropriate name. Must
he do that?Ó
ÒI could
call him on the carpet if you want?Ó
ÒIt is
your duty as captain and leader to provide a workplace free of intolerance.Ó
ÒDoes this
mean weÕre not double dating?Ó He
held a hand up. ÒIÕll talk to
Bones. Ixnay
on the green skin and pointy eared comments. Racially insensitive. YouÕre completely correct, Spock. IÕve been derelict in my duties. Now, call Nyota
and get her down here and IÕll call Chris.Ó
He walked
far enough to give Spock privacy and pulled out his communicator. ÒKirk to
Chapel.Ó
ÒChapel
here.Ó
ÒGot
dinner plans?Ó
ÒNothing I
canÕt jettison.Ó
ÒJoin me
and Spock and probably Nyota down here on the Star
Base?Ó
ÒThat
sounds scarily official.Ó
ÒI know,
doesnÕt it? I was thinking of food.
And then eating it. And then who I
would want to eat it with. And then you came to mind. You and no one else.Ó
ÒExcept
Spock and Nyota.Ó
ÒWell, Spock
was here and heÕs gonna have to bring his own woman.Ó
She
laughed. ÒIÕll be right down.Ó
ÒWeÕre in
conference room thirty-nine. See
you soon.Ó
He turned, saw that Spock was still talking to Uhura. Marveled that it took a Vulcan longer to
convey dinner plans to an established girlfriend than it had two humans who
were still getting to know each other.
Then again, he and Chris had covered a lot of ground that night in the
rec lounge. Navigated a lot of
minefields that would have blown up most people.
She really
was right down. She smiled as she
came through the door, bumped up against him easily, frowned as she looked at
Spock. ÒIs he talking to Nyota?Ó
Kirk
nodded.
ÒDid he
start the call way after you?Ó
He shook
his head.
ÒWow, high
maintenance or what?Ó
He started
to laugh—it was exactly what he had been thinking. A moment later, Spock cut the
connection. He took a deep breath, then said, ÒShe will be down momentarily.Ó
ÒDefine
that,Ó Chris murmured.
Momentarily
was about ten minutes. Uhura seemed
to have taken the time to change out of her uniform—Chris had
not—and her hair was loose.
Kirk shot Chris a look to see what she thought of all that; her
expression was impossible to read.
Turning to
him, Chris put her arm through his, gave him a brilliant smile, and said, ÒSo
where are we eating, Jim? IÕm
starved.Ó
And just
like that, all the attention was back on him, and by extension her. Nicely played. He could see this was going to be one hell
of an interesting evening.
##
Gaila was
eating lunch with Christine when Nyota came over and
stood at their table, her tray held almost defensively. ÒHi,Ó Gaila said. ÒSit.Ó
Nyota turned to Christine,
who shot her a puzzled looked then nodded.
ÒTake a load off.Ó
Something
changed in NyotaÕs expression, but she sat, moved her
tray in a little. ÒI just...I
wanted to apologize about yesterday.
I should have just come down.
Not changed clothes.Ó
ÒNo, you
were smart. You looked so much more
comfortable. I should have thought
of that.Ó She leaned forward. ÒI mean when Jim said come now, I
just...well, hurried on down.Ó
ÒWell,
itÕs still new for you.Ó
ÒItÕs not
that new.Ó
Gaila
watched in fascination. They were
like two jungle cats circling, taking test swipes. She wasnÕt entirely sure what they were
talking about—neither of them talked to her about the other; she gave
them credit for that.
Christine
went back to eating. Gaila wondered
what Nyota would do. In the brothel, only the strong ate when
threatened.
Christine
looked over her sandwich at Nyota. ÒSomething wrong?Ó
ÒIÕm not
sure I like you.Ó
ÒWell, IÕm
not sure I like you, either.Ó She
glanced at Gai.
ÒBut weÕre both friends of Gaila.
And our boys are tight. So
maybe we should try to get along.Ó
ÒYouÕre
not what you seem,Ó Nyota said, leaning in, still not
eating. ÒEveryone thinks youÕre
this sweet nurse. I hear them
saying it. Christine in sickbay is
so nice. Is that you theyÕre
talking about?Ó
Christine
shrugged. ÒWe all wear masks. Some of us do it better than others.Ó
ÒSheÕs
smart, Ny.
And sheÕs tough.Ó Gaila
touched NyotaÕs arm. A conciliatory stroke, the way a lesser
girl would have done in the brothel, meant to bring peace, calm another
down. ÒBut she can be your
friend. SheÕs my friend. And youÕre my friend. You can be each otherÕs friends, too.Ó
ÒIÕm not
sure thatÕs going to happen.Ó
Christine smiled gently at Gaila.
ÒJust because we love you doesnÕt mean weÕll love each other.Ó
NyotaÕs look seemed to soften. ÒYou speak so easily of loving her. That makes me like you. Gaila deserves loyal friends.Ó
Gaila
smiled and dug into her salad.
ÒYes. She does deserve loyal friends. On that, we are agreed.Ó
Nyota finally started to
eat. She kept her eyes on Christine
as she did it, but she ate.
##
Kirk
waylaid Chris in the corridors. ÒDo
you know whatÕs happening tonight?Ó
She shook
her head.
He
smiled. ÒAbsolutely nothing. No delegations. No visiting brass. No parties. Nothing. Come to my quarters?Ó
ÒNow?Ó
He
nodded. ÒI may have food in there
for us. And a
nice bed. Clean sheets.Ó
ÒTaking an
awful lot for granted, arenÕt you?Ó
ÒWeÕve
waited a long time. IÕm tired of
waiting. ArenÕt you?Ó
ÒIs this a
personal best for how long youÕve waited?Ó
ÒOh, hell,
yes.Ó
She
smiled. ÒThen letÕs go to your
quarters.Ó
He smiled
and looped his arm around her shoulders.
ÒHave I told you how much I like you?Ó
ÒLike?Ó
ÒWell, IÕm
crazy about you, too. This may, in
fact, be love. But itÕs more than
that. I like you. I want to tell you about my day when my
day is over. I think about you and
it makes me happy. YouÕre not just
some girl I want to be with and then leave.Ó He squeezed her arm. ÒI donÕt think IÕve ever really liked a
girl before.Ó
She leaned
her head against his shoulder.
ÒThen like is good.Ó
ÒOh, like
is great.Ó He palmed his door
open. ÒBut before we eat, you need
to meet someone.Ó
ÒIn here?Ó
He walked
them over to the comm unit, kissed her quickly, and
then got his grandmother on the comm.
ÒJames.Ó Her smile was wide. ÒAnd whoÕs this?Ó
ÒThis is
Chris. I thought youÕd like to meet
her.Ó He smiled at Chris. ÒChris, this is my grandmother.Ó
ÒYou can
call me Millie, dear. Or Gram, like
he does.Ó
Chris was
smiling broadly, her eyes suspiciously bright. ÒIÕd be pleased to call you Gram.Ó
ÒWell, thatÕs just fine, then. And
is my boy sweet on you?Ó
ÒI guess
he is.Ó
ÒWell,
thatÕs even better. DonÕt let him
take you for granted. Kirk men will
do that.Ó
ÒNo,
maÕam.Ó
ÒGram, donÕt go filling her head with nonsense. Anyway, IÕll call you tomorrow for our
regular talk. I just wanted you to meet Chris. You know, see what you thought of
her.Ó He winced as Chris elbowed
him.
ÒI think
she must be a saint to put up with you, dear.Ó She winked at Chris. ÒNow, go have fun, you two. IÕve got to go and play tile rummy with
the girls next door. I love you,
James.Ó
ÒLove you,
Gram.Ó He cut the connection then
turned to Chris. ÒThatÕs my
home. ThatÕs who raised me. ThatÕs who matters in my life. And IÕve never ever brought a girl to
meet her. In person or by comm.Ó
Chris
pulled him in for a kiss. ÒI love
you, Jim Kirk.Ó
ÒI love
you, too.Ó He kissed her again, then pulled away.
ÒDid you want to eat?Ó
She
started to pull off his uniform.
ÒFood can wait.Ó
HeÕd
picked out food that could definitely wait. ÒOfficer thinking, Ms. Chapel.Ó
##
Gaila sat
at a picnic table working on the project Jim and Mister Scott had given
her. She looked out where the
others were playing on the beach. Nyota was in the water with Christine and Jim and Sulu,
playing a game of keep away. Nyota and Christine had forged some strange kind of
dŽtente. Gaila wasnÕt sure theyÕd
ever be friends, but they were trying and she knew it was for her sake and for
the sake of their men. Spock was up
on the ship, preferring to let others soak up shore leave sun, but Gaila knew
heÕd join Nyota later that night.
She saw Chekov
lounging on an air mattress, his pale skin glowing a bright red. SheÕd told him to put on some sunscreen,
but heÕd just laughed and headed out for the open water.
She heard
footsteps behind her, turned and saw Mister Scott. He sat next to her, asked softly, ÒMay
I?Ó and when she nodded, studied the padd she was working on.
A few
minutes later, he looked up and a big beaming smile broke out. ÒMother of God, girl. This is first rate.Ó
She
grinned.
ÒI canÕt
wait to try this out. Do you think we
can convince the captain?Ó
ÒIÕll ask
Christine to ask him for us.Ó
ÒOh, aye,
thatÕll do it.Ó He smiled
happily. ÒCan I ask you something,
Gaila?Ó
She
nodded.
ÒWhy
arenÕt you out there having fun?Ó
ÒWhy
arenÕt you?Ó
He thought
about that. ÒI donÕt really know
how to have fun. I know how to
drink. And I know how to be an
engineer. Well, and I know how to
love a woman, but I donÕt do that very often.Ó
ÒWhy not?Ó
ÒBecause a
woman expects a man to show her some fun now and then. More now than then, to
be honest. And things peter
out when you canÕt.Ó
She
laughed. ÒI donÕt know how to have
fun, either.Ó
ÒI have
trouble believing that.Ó
ÒItÕs
true. I was raised to give
pleasure. Not fun.Ó
He narrowed
his eyes, and she could tell he was thinking about the difference.
And she realized he was the first person sheÕd ever said that to—other
than Christine or another Orion—and this time sheÕd said it with no
bitterness. Like it was in the
past. Really in
the past.
ÒI can see
how thatÕs a problem. Are you good
at geometry?Ó
ÒRelatively.Ó
ÒDo you
play pool?Ó
ÒI
tried. All the men looked down my
shirt and up my skirt.Ó
He looked
at her like she was very silly.
ÒWell, that was because you used to wear such low cut shirts and short
skirts. But you donÕt anymore.Ó
ÒYou
noticed?Ó
ÒI notice
all kinds of things about all kinds of people. I just keep most of it to myself.Ó He grinned. ÒNow, you want to learn the finer points
of nine ball?Ó
ÒWill it
be fun?Ó
ÒI think
it might.Ó He made a face like
Òimagine that?Ó
She
giggled. Then she did it
again. It was a sound she hadnÕt
made since she was a child. A real sound of amusement. Not the sound of a courtesan.
The sound
of the child she never got to be.
ÒLetÕs go
have fun,Ó she said and followed Mister Scott off to what turned out to be a
dark hole in the wall filled with curmudgeons who didnÕt seem to care one whit that
a gorgeous young Orion girl was in their midst, but were full of tips on how to
hit the balls around the table.
It was the
most refreshing feeling in the world.
And nine ball was fun.
She beat him about half the time.
She wasnÕt sure if he looked happier when he won or when she did.
##
Chapel saw
Uhura sitting alone in the surf.
Spock was somewhere on the ship, would be down probably later but wasnÕt
here now. With a kiss for a
drowsing Jim, she got up and walked over to the water, plopping down next to
Uhura. ÒYou looked like you could
use some company.Ó
ÒIf youÕre
feeling sorry for me, then—Ó
She held
up a hand. ÒLook. IÕm a bitch because I had a shitty
childhood and an even shittier adolescence. I learned that to survive, you had to be
tough. And I learned it around
girls. And I brought it with me to
the Academy. And girls like you,
girls who are smart and pretty and have it all, you bring out the worst.Ó
Uhura
turned and stared at her.
ÒWhat?Ó
ÒYou think
I have it all?Ó She laughed
softly. ÒWhy do you think I wanted
to look good that night? It wasnÕt
for Spock and Jim. It was because
you were going to be there.
Smart. Blonde. Mysterious past. Scary as hell unless weÕre talking to
one of the many people who swear youÕre the angel of sickbay.Ó
Chapel
laughed. ÒMy fans. Caught me on a good day, I guess.Ó
ÒAnd Gaila
loves you. In a way she never loved
me. I guess...I guess IÕm jealous.Ó
ÒShe loves
me because IÕm like her.
Damaged.Ó Chapel drew a
series of crossed swords in the sand.
ÒI used to have that carved into my arm. Six swords. Six girls I took down to get to the
top.Ó
ÒTook
down. You mean...?Ó
ÒNot
killed. Just...deposed. Made inconsequential.Ó
ÒWhere?Ó
Chapel met
her eyes. ÒIn a rehab
facility. Like I said. Shitty, shitty past.Ó
Uhura
touched her arm. Touched it right
where the swords used to sit, even though there was no scar left. ÒWho carved it in you?Ó
ÒI
did.Ó She closed her eyes. ÒGaila doesnÕt love me more than
you. She just knows I understand
her better. I understand her world
better because IÕve lived in something like it. A place where status meant everything.Ó
ÒIÕm
sorry.Ó
ÒItÕs
ironic. IÕve been helping her learn
to let go. And yet, I canÕt. YouÕre the kind of girl IÕd have had to
depose. But that would have
happened there, and I donÕt live there anymore. I havenÕt lived there for a very long
time. But the more I help Gaila the
more it comes out. That old Christine.
The one I didnÕt want to be.Ó
She turned. ÒSo IÕm
sorry. No more alpha crap from me.Ó
ÒI can be
a bitch, too. I have this need to
excel. I canÕt stop pushing. And when I run into someone like you,
someone whoÕll actually give me a run for my money. IÕm not sure I know what to do.Ó
Chapel
laughed. ÒThe jokeÕs going to be on
both of us. GailaÕs going to leave us in the
dust.Ó
ÒYouÕre
probably right.Ó
ÒI do love
her. I canÕt imagine her life. And that she came out of it so
well. SheÕs so...innocent for all
that they tried to destroy that innocence.Ó
ÒI know,Ó
Uhura said. ÒItÕs why I love her,
too.Ó
Chapel
started to get up.
Uhura
pulled her back down. ÒStay. I do need company.Ó
ÒEven if
itÕs me?Ó
ÒEspecially
if itÕs you.Ó
Uhura
leaned in for a moment. ÒI love
Spock. But heÕs not fun sometimes.Ó
ÒJimÕs
fun.Ó She looked over at the beach
towel under the umbrella where he was safely sleeping in the shade. ÒWhen heÕs awake.Ó
Uhura
started to smile. ÒDo you like to
shop?Ó
ÒI love to
shop.Ó
ÒGaila
hates to shop.Ó
ÒI
know. It is her one big flaw.Ó
They
shared a smile. Then rose as one,
and pulled their cover-ups and some sandals on. Grabbing their bags, they headed into
town, where all the lovely shops waited just for them.
FIN