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 PG-13.
Emotional Rescue
by Djinn
Chapel looked up as Spock
walked into sickbay. She grinned at his
expression. Even after all these years,
he couldn't hide his distaste for exams.
"Hop up on the table,
Spock. You know the drill." She waited for him to tell her that Vulcans
did not hop.
A raised eyebrow filled in
for the words as he eased himself onto the table. She looked down to hide her grin. She was getting way too big a kick out of
yanking his chain. She reached for her
scanner, began to check him for lingering effects--or any new ones--from his
meld with V'ger.
"Sleeping okay?"
she asked.
"I do not require as
much sleep as humans do, Doctor Chapel."
"Nice diversion,
Spock. Just answer the
question."
"I have been dreaming
more than is my norm."
She ran a special check on
his neurotransmitters and hormones. They
were elevated but far less so than they had been right after the meld. "Well, I hope they're good dreams."
"They
are...interesting."
The emphasis he put on the
word made her look up at him. "Care
to share?"
"I do not." Despite the terse reply, his tone lacked his
usual acerbity and his expression was more open than she was used to. Another post-V'ger effect, this more emotional
Spock.
She was having trouble
getting used to it. She began to make
notes on her padd.
"You are enjoying being
a doctor?"
She smiled at him. "Don't even think you can distract me
from noting your dreams as another effect."
"I was merely inquiring
as to your satisfaction with your chosen profession."
"If you aren't careful,
I'll put 'Attempts to make small talk' down as a side effect too."
"I believe that was more
than just an attempt at small talk."
She laughed. "Oh, you think you were successful, do
you?"
"Indeed. Is that not what we are doing? Engaging in small talk?"
"I'd call it banter, but
you can categorize it however you like, Spock." She shook her head. "Too bad McCoy isn't here; he lives for
good banter."
It suddenly occurred to her
that McCoy was never around when Spock showed up. If she didn't know better, she'd think Spock
was timing his arrivals for when McCoy was off duty or on break. And when she was on.
She sighed. This was not a place she was going to
revisit. If Spock was only showing up on
her shifts, it was just coincidence.
"I would like to ask you
a question," Spock said.
"Ask away," she
said, snapping the scanner shut and putting it back with the other diagnostic
equipment.
"It is of a personal
nature."
She moved closer. "Do you need to whisper it?" She grinned at him. He actually looked a bit exasperated with her
and she wondered if he had an embarrassing post-V'ger rash or something. "Okay, sorry, Spock. What did you want to ask about?"
"I was hoping you would
join me for dinner."
Her chin hit the floor and
kept on traveling. She figured it
stopped somewhere near engineering. So
much for coincidence. "Technically,
that's not a question." She moved
away from him and opened a drawer at random, began to inventory the
contents. Spock didn't need to know that
Nurse Percell had already done this.
Twice. Business in sickbay had
been slow.
"You do not appear
overly pleased by my suggestion."
She shot him a look. "You realize anything you're feeling is
because of the meld."
"I am aware that I am
more emotional since the meld."
"Elevated hormones and
neurotransmitters will do that, even to a Vulcan. You don't really want to have dinner, you're
just..." She couldn't bring herself
to say the word horny to him.
"I did not suggest that
we have sex, Christine. I merely thought
a shared meal might prove pleasant."
She'd offended him. She shook her head. "I'm sure it would. Find someone else to share it with and have a
great time." She closed the drawer,
harder than she meant to.
"You do not eat?"
"Of course, I
eat." She looked around sickbay,
realized that Percell and Castena were watching Spock and her with
barely-veiled interest. "Let's go
into my office?"
He followed her in. "If you eat and I eat, then I fail to
see why we cannot share a meal."
She shut the door, leaned
against the wall. "I'll be frank,
Spock. I'm flattered. Part of me is probably thrilled but I'm not
listening to her anymore.
This"--she pointed at him, then back at herself, her hand gestures
coming out a bit spastic--"is not territory I want to revisit. The big hopeless crush scene was not a happy
place for me."
He moved toward her. "What if it were not hopeless this
time?"
She gave him her best
rendition of the Vulcan eyebrow of disdain.
"Christine. I admit that a large portion of what I am
feeling was triggered by the meld with V'ger.
But I do not believe that the emotions I am now open to will entirely
dissipate over time. I have made a
choice. To explore these feelings. Wherever they may lead."
"So, you're saying
you're curious? You want to play with
these emotions? Walk on the wild
side?"
"That is not how I would
choose to put it. But it may be
accurate." He touched her cheek.
She pulled back quickly, hitting
her head on the bulkhead. "Ow! Dammit, Spock."
"You were interested in
me once, Christine."
She pushed him back, moved
away from the wall, rubbing her head as she did so. "And you weren't interested in me,
Spock. And I don't think you are now."
He actually sighed softly.
She shook her head. "I was in sickbay when you came to,
Spock." She smiled, hoped it wasn't
a bitter expression. "'This simple
feeling.' Does that ring a
bell?"
He seemed to draw away
slightly.
"If you want to ask someone
to dinner, ask the Captain."
"Jim is my friend."
"Which is more than I
ever was, Commander." She hit the
door switch, bowed him out mockingly.
"I'm going to pretend this conversation never happened."
"But it did
happen."
"Work with me here, Spock." She pushed him, hoping he'd take the hint and
leave.
He did step back. "I am trying to, Christine."
"Could you just call me
Doctor Chapel? It's so much easier on my
psyche." She hit the door
switch. As the door slid closed behind
them, she held her hand up.
"Buh-bye."
She rested her head against
the wall, tried to ignore that it was still hurting...or that she was
trembling.
Damn Spock! Just when she thought she was over him, he
had to go and pull this.
--------------------------------
Spock watched Doctor Chapel
as she sat down to eat with one of the other doctors. It was clear by the way she was enjoying her
meal that she did indeed eat. She just
did not wish to eat with him.
"You look like a man
with a problem, Spock." McCoy pulled
a chair out and sat down. He followed
Spock's gaze. "Oh, boy."
Spock quickly looked away
from Doctor Chapel and the unknown male doctor who seemed to be amusing her so
much.
"Don't tell me that
after all these years, you're actually ready to make a move?"
"I was not planning on
telling you that, Doctor."
"Well, that's good. Because she's moved on, my friend. You are a closed book, a dead letter,
a--"
"Yes, I grasp the
concept, Doctor."
"She sure looks like
she's having fun with Morrow."
McCoy shot Spock an innocent look.
"Just as you are having
'fun' baiting me."
"Aw, Spock. You make me sound so mean." McCoy leaned in. "I do think she's moved on. Why go and reopen old wounds?"
"I was not aware I had
wounded her."
McCoy rolled his eyes. "Well, it's a cinch that she didn't hurt
you any. Nothing gets past that thick
Vulcan skin. Not even a clue."
Spock was still trying to
think of a suitable retort when Kirk walked over.
"You two fighting
again?" he asked as he sat down.
The grin he shot Spock was
open and happy, and Spock felt a pang of tenderness for his friend. Not the interest that Doctor Chapel had
implied--something different, but in its own way just as strong. He loved Jim, loved him like a brother. And he'd missed him more than he could ever
have predicted he would when he'd first set out to purge his emotions.
McCoy leaned in. "I'm just trying to tell our Vulcan
friend that now is not the time for him to decide he's interested in
Christine."
Kirk shot Spock a surprised
look. "Are you interested in
her?"
"You do not deem her
worthy of interest?"
Kirk shook his head
quickly. "I didn't mean that. She's delightful."
Spock tried to hide his
surprise.
McCoy didn't. "Something you want to tell us,
Jim?"
Kirk laughed. "She used to date one of the admirals in
my circle of friends. Nothing serious
but it gave me a chance to get to know her.
I like her. A lot. As I said, she's delightful." He turned to Spock. "So are you interested in her?"
When Spock did not answer,
Kirk laughed and held his hand up in surrender.
"Forget I asked. But you
might want to move fast, before that guy"--he gestured off toward Doctor
Morrow--"gets the upper hand."
He ate for a few moments, then said softly, "Would you like me to
define 'delightful'?"
Spock knew he was glaring
disapproval, tried to force his expression into something more neutral.
Kirk only laughed. "God, it's good to have you
back." He looked over at McCoy,
included him in the smile. "Both of
you."
"Well, unlike Spock
here, I didn't have a choice," McCoy said, but his expression as he looked
at Kirk was full of affection.
Spock supposed they had all
been lonely for each other. It was good
to be together again.
He watched Doctor Chapel get
up and leave with her dinner companion.
Perhaps later Spock would ask Jim to explain what he deemed the upper
hand...as well as what he meant by delightful.
---------------------
"This seat taken?"
Chapel looked up, smiled
broadly when she saw Kirk. "I was
saving it for you."
He laughed. "Liar." Setting his breakfast tray down, he nodded at
her coffee cup. "You need a
refill?"
"Please."
She watched him as he got
himself a cup of the strong mess coffee, then refilled her cup. As he walked back, she found herself
grinning. The one good thing about
dating Admiral Cartwright had been getting to know her former CO on a personal
basis.
He seemed to be reading her
mind. "So, how's
Matthew?"
She rolled her eyes. "You know, you could have warned me about
him." Cartwright had been fun--for
the five seconds a day he wasn't obsessing over work, his next assignment, or
the Klingons.
He shrugged. "Would you have believed me? Besides, he's a good contact for you. Since you parted on good terms." He shot her a look. "You did part on good terms?"
"Yes, I took your advice
and cut out gracefully."
"Our hasty departure
probably helped."
She laughed. "I'm indebted to V'ger." Her smile faded. "It feels wrong to joke about it. Because of Will."
"I know."
They ate in silence for a
moment, then he took a deep breath.
"I'm sorry about the demotion."
"Nothing you're going to
do about it now." She smiled when
he shot a look at her, his gaze questioning, as if wondering what she really
felt. She decided to tell him. "I was in a bit over my head, Jim. I'd have never said that to Will because he
seemed so dead set on having me as his CMO.
But I'm not sure I was the right person, other than that he listened to
me." She shook her head. "Which was only fair considering how
many times I listened to him go on about Ilia.
Usually over beers."
Kirk smiled. "Best kind of CMO does just that. Beers or Romulan Ale. Whatever works." He seemed about to say something else.
She shook her head. "It's okay, Jim. I'm over any irritation with you. Truly."
"Okay. We won't talk about it again."
"Good." She studied him. He seemed happier than he'd ever looked back
on Earth. "You're in heaven, aren't
you?"
He nodded. "It's great to be back. To have her back."
She didn't have to ask which
'her' he was talking about.
"And to have Spock
back," he continued. He shot her an
odd look. "Must be a little strange
for you...having him around again?"
She shook her head. "Not like I see him much." She studied Kirk, tried to figure out what he
was thinking. She'd learned that few
conversations with him were haphazard, most of them were designed to take you
somewhere. She had the suspicion this
one was going to a place she didn't want to end up in. "I'm over him," she said in what
she hoped was a very final tone.
"Yes. About that." He grinned.
She glared at him. "If you say another word, I'm going to
start calling you Captain Cupid."
He laughed.
"He's just going through
a phase, Jim. Surely you can see
that."
"Is he?"
She shook her head. Trying to debate him was a losing
proposition. He was too good at winning.
"You might want to give
him a chance." He held up his hands
when she glared at him. "I'm just
saying..."
"Well, say it to someone
else. There are plenty of hot young
babes on this pretty ship of yours who must be dying to date Mister Tall, Dark,
and Rigid." She realized that hadn't
come out quite right. Could feel herself
starting to blush.
Kirk was trying not to laugh.
"Don't even..."
"I'm not saying a
word." He nodded at the door. "Oh look. There's Mister Tall--" He broke off when she kicked him lightly
under the table. "Spock," he
called out, waving the Vulcan over.
Spock looked relieved when he
saw Kirk. Then he took in Chapel's
presence at the table and actually perked up.
He headed toward them.
She closed her eyes. "This isn't happening." Kirk started to get up and she clamped a hand
on his. "Don't even think of leaving."
"If you've really moved
on, then there's nothing to be afraid of, right?" He gently pulled his hand out from under
hers.
"Captain. Doctor."
Spock looked around for a chair to add to the two-person table she'd
chosen.
"Here, take mine,"
Kirk said. "I have to go. You can keep Christine company." He grinned at her.
She wanted nothing more than
to stick her tongue out at him.
He seemed to realize that;
his eyes positively sparkled. "See
ya."
She nodded, tucked into her
food, intent on finishing and getting away as quickly as she could.
"Is eating with me such
an unpleasant notion, Christine?"
Spock asked, sounding rather sad.
"Would you rather choke on your food than endure a moment more than
is necessary with me?"
She laughed meanly. "I had a good teacher. It's what you would have done."
He looked away. "No.
I would have simply stopped eating and left. I do not like to rush a meal."
"Touche," she
whispered. If his words hadn't been said
in such a morose way, they would have stung more.
"But I never found your
company unpleasant."
"Right," she said,
but she put her fork down. "I'm
sorry if I hurt your feelings." She
was curious how he would reply to that.
He stared at her, his eyes
seemed resigned. "Is this what it
feels like? To have hurt feelings? I never knew."
"You're saying you have
them now?"
"I do not know. I know that it troubles me that my presence
is not more welcome to you."
She laughed, then looked
away. The strange dejection in his eyes
bothered her. More than she liked. "I've moved on, Spock. Can't you just let me be?"
He stood up, took his tray
and said, "Of course, Doctor. I
apologize for disturbing you."
He moved to a table on the
other side of the room. His movements
seemed more awkward than she'd ever seen them.
She got up and dumped her tray, stopping to refill her coffee. Looking back at his table, she knew she was
going to go to him and hated herself for it.
She should just turn around and go to sickbay. He was leaving her alone. Like she wanted.
She walked over to his
table. Sat down. Sipped her coffee slowly. "I don't want to be mean to you."
"You have not been,
Christine. I should have respected your
wishes and stayed away." He did not
look at her.
"Does it hurt?"
"Yes. Rejection hurts." He did look at her then. "Is this what you felt?"
"Some of it. I doubt that you're getting the full
treatment."
"You are undoubtedly
right." He put his fork down. "I was not as kind as you are being, was
I?"
She shook her head. "Maybe you had more resolve than I
do. Or maybe you really didn't give a
rat's ass. I wish I didn't care how you
feel."
"A rat's ass?"
She laughed. "It's a saying."
"A perplexing
one." He sipped at his water, the
gesture almost that of someone frantic for something to do. "You care then? Somewhat?"
"More than I want
to. But it won't make any
difference. I can't do this again. I'm sorry."
"There is nothing to be
sorry for." He took a deep
breath. "You are interested in
Doctor Morrow and not in me. I should have
realized."
She frowned. "He's married, Spock. And just a friend."
"But Jim said..."
She was going to kill Captain
Cupid the next time she saw him. She
touched Spock's hand, only letting her fingers linger for a second before
pulling away. "This is not going to
work for either of us. Eventually you're
going to shake V'ger's effects and go happily back to being logical and
stoic. And not interested in me." She smiled gently at him. "I'd rather not be very close when that
happens. Okay?"
"You do not know that it
will happen as you predict."
She laughed softly. "Yes, I do. It's how it always goes with you. Even women you really cared for couldn't have
you for very long." She stood
up. "Maybe you should have McCoy do
your check ups from here on out?"
She smiled gently, then turned and left.
She had to force herself not
to look back at him as she walked out of the mess hall.
-----------------
"Spock, heads up."
Spock looked up in time to
see Kirk toss him the microspanner he'd been looking for. He caught it easily. "Where did you find it?"
"The last place you'd
look." Kirk took a deep breath of
fresh air. "You could leave that
for one of the technicians, you know, and walk with me. I want to see the place."
"I am aware of that,
Jim. But I can perform this repair more
efficiently than the technicians. And
you did promise the Prefect that we would be off his planet by dawn."
Kirk sighed. "Why is it that the most beautiful
planets also have the most xenophobic governments?"
Spock could feel his
expression soften into his version of a smile.
Jim could be so whimsical at times.
"They allow us to keep the sensors here. It is more than the Federation
expected."
Kirk nodded. "I know, I know. And it's our duty to repair them with as
little fuss as possible." He looked
down the row of sensor arrays, where
"Then go. I will finish here."
"Meaning I'm not much
help."
"Well, you did find the
microspanner."
Kirk laughed.
"Go, Jim. I will be fine."
Kirk nodded, left Spock alone
to finish his task. Spock watched him
for a moment, glad that his friend was taking the time to enjoy himself, to
relax for a moment. A wave of affection
ran through him. He did not fight the
emotion. Just accepted it.
It had been months since his
meld with V'ger. The emotional onslaught
he had first experienced had died down.
He no longer felt the urge to cry at odd moments, did not erupt into
spontaneous and ill-timed laughter. And
for that he was exceedingly grateful.
The experience had been fascinating.
And useful. But he would not want
to live his life that way.
But he was not free of
emotions. He was a very long way from
the man who had nearly purged every feeling inside him on the hot sands of
Gol. He was not even the man who had first
gone to Gol, the man who had been so sure that he was losing the Vulcan part of
himself that he was willing to eliminate all things human--and some things
Vulcan as well--to make himself over into some extreme Vulcan ideal.
He sometimes had nightmares
that he was back at Gol. Back learning
the Kohlinar. Learning to destroy what
made him unique. For he was not only
Vulcan; he was also Human. With all the
associated problems. And the
emotions. It was never his destiny to
destroy that part of himself, but to learn to better integrate the two. To find his way.
As he had been doing, until
he had panicked and run away from everything and everyone he cared for.
He would not make that
mistake again.
He focused on his task. Found some small pleasure in the way he
moved, in the efficient manner he completed the repair. Was it not logical to feel moved by
efficiency? He was not sure, but he did
not fight his enjoyment of his skill. He
closed the panel, then sealed the array.
Checking the system with his tricorder, he was satisfied that it would
run at optimal efficiency.
He moved down the line,
helped a technician with some awkward repairs, then walked on. His attention was caught by a group of
off-duty crew, sitting on blankets in the field beyond the array, taking
advantage of the sunshine and pleasant weather.
Christine was there. Odd that he could no longer think of her as
Doctor Chapel. After their last talk,
she had become Christine to him, even if she had asked him not to call her
that. Spock could feel his lips
tighten. He did not feel pleasure when
he thought of her. He had no skill to
take pride in when it came to romance.
In fact, it had probably been a mistake to have ever pursued her. She had been right. He had been more interested in experiencing
the emotions than in experiencing her.
She had been right all along.
He saw her get up to join in
some sort of ball game. She laughed and
the sound carried to where he stood. He
could feel a small smile beginning. He
had little experience in seeing her happy.
He decided the sound of her laughter was pleasant.
One of the crewmen raced her
to the ball; they ended up wrestling for it.
She won, both she and the crewman laughing as she held the ball away
from him and he reached around her, his hands brushing her body as he tried to
steal the ball away.
Spock suddenly wished he were
that crewman.
"Must be nice," one
of the technicians said wistfully.
"To play."
Spock nodded, then looked
back at the man to see who it was.
"Yes, Mister Jensen. It must
be nice." He ignored Jensen's look
of surprise, moved on to the next beacon.
He could not resist another
look at Christine. It was allowed. Since he was not interested in her.
---------------------------
Chapel watched McCoy pace
through sickbay.
"Damn fools. Don't have to be on every landing party. They aren't getting any younger," he
muttered.
She wisely remained silent,
let him rant. She knew how worried he'd
been about Jim and Spock when they disappeared during the collection
mission. Fortunately, the strange
singularity that had taken them out of the middle of a landing party, had then
deposited them half a planet away without doing them any permanent damage. But it had left them both badly shaken and
exhausted from the bombardment of some sort of alien energy field.
"Doctor McCoy,"
Spock said, pushing himself up. "I
believe we can track the location of the singularity. Determine if it is native to the planet or if
it is free to travel out of the planet's gravity."
"So help me, Spock. Lie back down or I'll sedate you."
Spock looked over at Kirk,
who was still sleeping. Then he turned
to her. "I need a
tricorder."
She looked at McCoy. He shook his head.
Spock's mouth tightened. "You had to recall the landing parties,
did you not? If we could track the
singularity, determine where it will go and if there are others, it would be
safe to send them back down."
She grabbed a tricorder,
walked over to the bed. Handed it to
him. They needed several minerals that
the planet had in abundance. They would
be used in the base for a vaccine in critically low supply on a neighboring
planet.
"It can wait till he's
slept, Christine." McCoy seemed
angry with her.
"He won't sleep,
Len. You know that."
McCoy's mouth tightened, but
he didn't argue. Just turned and went
into his office.
"Thank you," Spock
said softly.
"He's just worried about
you."
"And since you are not,
you can think more clearly?"
She smiled. "I didn't say that."
He began to program in some
equations. "So you were
worried?"
"Of course. You and Jim would be a terrible
loss."
"Ah." He handed her the tricorder. "I need the readings I took
earlier. I uploaded them before the
singularity took us."
She nodded, went to a
terminal and called the data up.
"All of it?"
"Yes."
She downloaded it quickly,
handed the tricorder back to him.
"You do need rest, you know."
He nodded, already keying in
more formulas. "And Cygnus XV needs
vaccine. Which is more
important?" He looked up, seemed
unusually interested in her answer.
"What is that Vulcan
saying? The needs of the many?"
"Yes. Precisely." He worked for a few more moments, then asked
softly. "How did you come to know
that particular Vulcan saying, Christine?"
She sighed. "Back in my stalker days"--she
smiled when he shot her an amused look--"I researched many things
Vulcan."
"Ah." He finished programming the tricorder, set it
down as it processed the data for him.
"I did not consider you a stalker."
"Oh, please, Spock. You'd practically run the other way when you
saw me in the corridors."
"That is an
exaggeration." At her look, he
said, "I would walk very quickly."
She laughed. "Very, very quickly."
He gave her the eyebrow and
she laughed again.
"You have a pleasant
laugh."
He said it so casually, it
took he a moment to realize he was complimenting her.
"Spock," she
said. "We agreed."
"I merely commented on
the tonal quality of your laughter. It
was not a proposal of marriage."
She laughed again. "A joke?"
He seemed to shrug. The gesture looked funny, out of character.
"Still not over V'ger,
huh?"
She was no longer keeping
track of his progress. Spock had taken
her suggestion and started going to McCoy for his check-ups.
"On the contrary, I
would say I have returned to normal. A
new baseline for normal perhaps, but I do not feel unduly disturbed by my
emotions."
"Good," she said
neutrally. "That must have been
hard for you."
He did not answer, just
stared at her.
"Spock."
He looked away. "Perhaps you could create a rulebook
that would indicate what type of behavior is acceptable, and what is not. I admit to being quite confused when it comes
to how I should interact with you."
She sat down in the chair
next to his bed. "It's just that you're
pushing."
"I was not pushing. You are oversensitive." His tone was the Spock of old.
She was not sure what to
say. Looked down. Finally, whispered, "This is why I
didn't want to go there."
"And we did not go there
or anywhere, Christine. I have done as
you asked. I have stayed away from
you. If you would relax, it might help
your interactions with me."
She stood up. "I think it would be better if I just
left you alone with your computations."
"As you wish."
She walked away, glanced at
Jim's bed as she passed and saw that he was awake. He just shook his head, and rolled his
eyes.
She stopped at his bed,
studied the monitors.
"You could at least try
to be nice to him," he said very softly.
She glared at him, then felt
bad. "Don't meddle, Jim. Please?"
He sighed. "Fine."
She patted him on the
shoulder, an awkward attempt to reconnect, to tell him no hard feelings. Then she fled to her office.
Percell or Castena would call
her if they needed anything.
Spock stared out past the
viewscreen in the darkened auxiliary observation lounge. The stars slipped quietly past, slightly
skewed as they always were when the ship was in warp. He took a deep breath, let it out slowly,
then did not breathe, held the moment of between.
He heard footsteps coming
toward him. He had hoped that no one
would disturb him here. For some reason,
he had not wanted to meditate in his quarters, where he could have had perfect
privacy. It was illogical to feel irritation
that one of the crew had chosen to come to what was, after all, a public place.
He was not far into the
meditation at any rate. He had not even
reached the first level. He sat quietly
as the footsteps came closer. Then they
passed and he realized the other person had not seen him in the corner, sitting
so still, his black robe disappearing into the darkness of the space.
He heard a sob. Rose slowly, trying not to make any
noise. He would leave; whoever was here
would never know that he or she had not been alone. He moved silently to the door, heard another
sob and looked back to see who was in such distress.
It was Christine.
He was torn. She had made it clear she did not want him
near her. But it was obvious she was in
some sort of pain.
He shook his head at his own
folly. What good would he be? She had
come to the small observation room to be alone, not to deal with him. He turned to go.
"Spock?"
He turned, surprised.
She was wiping her eyes.
"How--?"
"--Your robe smells like
incense." She sniffed.
"Are you all
right?"
She slowly shook her head.
"Is there something I
can do?"
She shook her head again.
"Do you want me to
leave?"
Again she shook her head.
She was not all right, there
was nothing he could do, but she did not want him to leave. He could feel his brows pulling down into a
slight frown. How exactly was he
supposed to act?
"My father died
today." She sniffed again. "He's been sick. Really sick.
We all knew it was just a matter of time. He didn't even know me the last time I saw
him, just before I shipped out."
Her shoulders were shaking.
"It's like my father was already gone, you know?"
He moved toward her. The few times he had seen his mother cry,
Sarek had held her. Would that be
appropriate for this occasion?
She turned back around,
leaned her head against the viewscreen.
"Have you ever lost anyone, Spock?"
He thought he had lost
Jim. More than once. But Jim had not died, and Spock had not had
to grieve long. Did Sybok count? He had idolized his older brother, had been
crushed when Sarek cast him out.
"Yes," he said softly.
"Did it hurt?"
"Yes." He touched her shoulder gently, felt her lean
into his hand slightly. "Yes, it
hurt."
She pulled away, wiped at her
face again. "Thank you." She moved past him, toward the door.
He could not see her
face. "Christine? If you need to talk, I am here."
She turned, and he saw that
her eyes were bright with unshed tears. She tried to smile; the expression came
out as a grimace. "Right here? In the observation lounge?"
Even he could tell that the
joke fell flat. "You know what I
mean."
She nodded. "Thank you. But I'm fine now."
"Of course."
It was the exact same thing
he had told his mother when she came to comfort him after Sybok had gone.
But he had not been
fine. He did not think Christine was
either.
----------------------------
Chapel moved through the
market. She could feel Spock shadowing
her, was starting to get angry. Every
time she turned around, he was there. A
few booths behind her, ostensibly looking at this or that item for sale. But she had never seen him shop with such
dedication of purpose. In fact, she had
never seen him shop.
She doubled back suddenly,
the move taking him by surprise as she strode up to him.
"You're following
me. Why?"
"I am merely
shopping."
"That's crap."
He almost looked angry. "It is not 'crap,' as you put it. My mother's birthday is approaching. I am at somewhat of a loss...I have never
given her a present before."
"And now you suddenly
want to?"
He nodded. "It would please her, I think. Make her happy. Another post-V'ger effect, I presume. But surely not a negative one?"
She was suddenly very
embarrassed. "You're not following
me?" She felt off balance; she'd
been feeling that way ever since her mom had called to tell her about her dad's
death. "I'm sorry." She could feel her face reddening. "I thought..." She fought back tears--why did they seem so
close all the time?
He surprised her by touching
her hand, a sudden surge of support going through her as their skin made
contact. She looked up at him in shock,
saw that he seemed to be as surprised as she was.
"I beg forgiveness. I did not intend..." He pulled his hand away. "I am concerned for you. My desire to help must have led me
to..." He looked down, some sort of
shame written on his features.
"It's all right. It was a kind gesture." She swallowed hard. "I'm not doing very well, Spock."
"No, I know you are
not."
She looked down. "Are you really shopping for your
mom?"
"Yes. I was, however, following you. I had hoped to get some ideas of what to buy
her by what you stopped to admire."
She smiled, wiped at her eyes
as a rebel tear broke loose from the rest.
"Do you want me to help you find something?"
"Would you do
that?"
She sniffed again, rubbed at
her eyes. They felt sticky and
puffy. Sore inside and out. "Yeah.
I will."
He smiled slightly. "It would be a nice gesture."
She nodded, couldn't muster
the energy for a smile. Tired, she was
so tired. She turned back to the
booths. "What does she like?"
"I am not certain."
She turned to look at
him. "You're not?"
He shook his head.
"Hmm." She studied him. "Does she collect anything?"
He seemed to think about
that. "Small bottles."
"What kind? Glass?
Pottery?"
"Some kind of brilliant
glass. They sparkle when the sunlight
hits them."
She was not sure what would
make them do that. Metal shavings mixed
in maybe? Or perhaps the bottles were
cut from some sort of gemstone? "We
could look for one?"
"That would be
appreciated."
The walked slowly. She tried to pay attention to the things she
was looking at but her head hurt and she felt dizzy.
"Have you been
sleeping?" he asked her gently.
"Not really." She wondered why she could not seem to lie to
him the way she had been to Len and Jim and Uhura.
"You are
exhausted." He touched her hand
again, this time the surge of energy she felt was much stronger.
She looked up at him.
"My ability to help you,
to bolster your reserves, is limited.
You should ask McCoy for a sedative.
You need sleep." His look was
quite stern. "And I should not have
to tell you that."
She felt like a child again,
in her father's study trying to explain why she had done something wrong.
Her father.
She closed her eyes, could
feel her body begin to shake.
"Christine. I will look for the bottle. Thank you for helping me think of that. Will you go to sickbay?"
"I don't need
to."
His voice became more
firm. "You will go to sickbay. Or I will take you there myself."
She heard very clearly the
first officer. She also heard someone
who cared for her. She had managed to
push everyone else away. But he had
slipped in. How had he slipped in?
"I'll go to
sickbay." She would rest in her
quarters. That would be good
enough. Maybe this time she would fall
asleep before she started to cry.
"Give me your
word."
She sighed in
frustration. "Who do you think you
are?"
"The first officer of
the Enterprise." His eyes were
exceptionally gentle. "And your
friend."
She swallowed hard, felt
tears threaten again.
"Christine. Give me your word."
How did he know that she
wouldn't break it? How could he possibly
know that about her?
"Christine."
"Fine. You have my word. I'll go to sickbay. I'll talk to Len." She started to head for the beam-out
point. The idea of the long walk back
was daunting.
"Wait." He pulled out his communicator. "Spock to Enterprise."
"Enterprise here."
"Doctor Chapel is ready
to beam up. At these coordinates. Energize when ready."
She felt her eyes
drooping. How had she gotten this
tired? "Thank you, Spock."
"You are welcome."
He faded to nothingness
before her eyes as the transporter took her.
She stepped off the pad wearily, headed to sickbay to finally tell McCoy
that something was wrong.
It was a huge relief to stop
trying to be strong.
-------------------------
Spock sat down at an empty
table in the mess hall. He had hoped Jim
or McCoy would join him but they were both otherwise engaged.
"Do you want
company?"
He looked up, could feel his
expression lightening as he saw Christine smiling at him. She no longer looked as if she was about to
break. Seemed to be stronger, her smile
more true.
"I would 'love' some
company." He thought she would
enjoy the phrasing.
"Ooh, someone's been
studying human pick up lines." She
grinned at him. It was an expression
that seemed to hold amusement and gratitude and he hoped forgiveness.
"Jim may, in fact, be a
bad influence," he said.
She sat down. "Nyah.
He's a great guy. Matchmaking
tendencies notwithstanding."
He looked at her. "I was not aware he was working on us
both."
"Oh, he was." She laughed softly. "Big doof."
"Doof?"
She sighed in mock
frustration. "We really need to get
you a decent slang dictionary."
"Ah, so that I could
look up 'rat's ass'?"
She nodded. "Exactly. Have to use it right if you're going to use
it."
"I do not intend to use
it at all. Present company
excepted."
She laughed. "I'm not sure if that's an insult or a
compliment."
"When you determine
which it is, let me know."
She smiled and he was relieved
to see the expression reach her eyes.
"You are feeling
better?" he asked.
It was the wrong
question. Her good humor dropped away.
"I am sorry. I do not mean to pry."
She met his eyes, seemed to
be trying to figure out why he wanted to know.
Why could she not just ask him why he cared?
"You appear to be doing
better," he said carefully.
She nodded. "I needed sleep. You were right. And it was foolish of me and worse,
negligent, to allow myself to get to that state. If you want to put me on report, I won't
fight you."
"I do not wish to put
you on report." He took a sip of
his water. "The tendency to believe
that one can solve any problem by oneself is not wholly a human failing."
"Are you saying that
you've been guilty of that?"
He nodded.
"I'm just sorry you had
to be the one to deal with it."
"Interesting." He could feel his mouth turning up slightly,
wondered at her ability to provoke his version of a smile. "Because I am not sorry at all."
"Spock, don't."
He touched her hand,
intrigued by her cooler skin. "I
believe I have proven you can trust me."
She jerked her hand away,
looked down.
"V'ger and the meld that
caused me to act so out of character was six months ago."
"I know."
"Then perhaps it is time
for you to accept that it is possible for me to have feelings where you are
concerned."
"I can't accept
that."
"Why not?"
She looked down. "I can't do this again."
He felt frustration fill
him. "Christine, there is no this
to repeat. You and I have not had a
relationship. What is growing between us
is new. There is no reason to run from
it."
"There is nothing
growing between us." She stood
up. Picked up her untouched tray. "Leave me alone." She practically fled the mess hall.
Spock suddenly wished he was
still in a position to not give a rat's ass about her. Whatever that meant--it sounded preferable to
this.
------------------
Christine steeled herself as
she walked up to Spock's office. She was
glad she did not have to go to his quarters.
Too many painful memories of his Pon Farr and of her bringing him
soup. Now all she had was an
apology.
She rang the chime before she
could lose her nerve.
The door opened.
She walked in, saw him
sitting at his desk. "Hi. Can we talk?"
"I am in the middle of a
report." He did not look up at her.
She sighed. "I'm sorry. I overreacted."
"Yes. You did." He still didn't look up.
She walked over to his desk,
sat in the guest chair. "I'm trying
to apologize."
"Why?" He finally looked up at her. He seemed tired, defeated even. "You will no doubt lose your patience
with me again very soon. I cannot seem
to please you."
She frowned. "Did something happen? I mean other than my freaking out on you last
week?"
He did not answer, just went
back to his work.
"Spock?"
"I am very busy,
Christine. Perhaps we could continue
this discussion another time." He
carefully put his hands on the desk.
"What
happened?" She touched his hand.
He pulled it away as if he'd been
burned.
"Spock?"
He seemed very far away when
he answered, "Today is my mother's birthday."
Christine frowned. Had he forgotten to send her present? Had he not gotten her anything after
all? "You sent something?"
"Yes. I found a bottle, similar to what I
remembered her collecting."
"And she didn't like
it?"
"Oh, she was quite taken
with it. I believe she was very
happy." His jaw tightened and he
looked down.
The last time she had seen
him act this way was when his father was on board. Sarek.
Who could be so disapproving.
"Your father didn't like it?"
"I do not believe he saw
the need for me to give a gift. He did
not say anything, of course. Sarek would
not be so rude. But his disapproval was
more than apparent. I am, after all,
very good at recognizing it since I was the cause of it so many times in my
youth."
"He thought it too human
a gesture?"
"Most
probably." Spock seemed to be
holding himself under extreme control.
Seemed very much the Vulcan. She
thought Sarek should see him now. The
bastard would no doubt be proud.
"I think if you made
your mom happy then to hell with your dad."
He slowly looked up at her.
"And I'd be willing to
tell him that," she said more fiercely than she meant to.
His mouth began to turn up
into what she was starting to recognize as a smile. "I believe you would." The smile faded; he looked down.
"Fathers. Dead or alive, they get to us." She reached out, touched his hand.
This time he allowed it. He sighed, and she realized it was a
demonstration of trust that he did it in front of her.
"I'm sorry," she
said.
"For Sarek? Do not be.
This is an old problem between us."
"I know. I'm still sorry. And I'm sorry I overreacted."
He looked at her. "I am confused by your behavior. I do not know what it is I do that sets you
off." He sighed again, more softly
this time.
She stared at him. "I'm afraid of you. I'm afraid of loving you." She looked down. "I'm afraid of...I'm just afraid."
He did not speak for a long time,
just stared at her, his expression soft, almost tender. "I know you have been under considerable
stress. I do not wish to add to
that. If you want me to stay away from
you, I will." He held her eyes for
a moment, then turned back to his terminal, as if he knew what her answer would
be.
As if he knew her.
Was she such a coward? All he'd tried to do was be her friend. He hadn't asked her to love him. He hadn't really asked her for anything. Except that she go to dinner.
"Who'll keep me honest
if you stay away?" she asked softly.
He looked up.
"I was thinking maybe if
you were free for dinner..." She
smiled at him wryly.
"You wish to share a
meal? With me?"
She was enormously pleased to
see the Vulcan eyebrow of irony begin to rise.
"Yes. I promise not to wolf my food down or bolt
from the room."
"Do not make promises
you may not be able to keep."
"I won't." She smiled at him. "Would you like to have dinner? Someday?"
He nodded. "I would like that."
Relieved, she turned to go. "Okay, then pick an evening and we'll
go."
"Tonight."
She turned to look at him.
He shot her the eyebrow
again. "I fear you will lose your
nerve if I do not act quickly."
She laughed softly. "You may be right. Buzz me when you're ready?"
"I will." Again he gave her the minuscule smile.
It made her feel warm
inside. But when the warmth faded, she
could feel panic starting.
"It is a good thing to
feel happy in another's presence. Is
that not so?" he asked.
"You're scary," she
said. "I thought you had to be
touching someone to read their mind?"
He turned back to his work, a
satisfied look on his face. "I will
see you tonight, Christine."
She nodded, walked to the
door, fighting down another feeling of panic.
They had a date? Was she insane?
She swallowed hard.
They had a date. She was insane.
She looked back at him. He was staring at her, a fond expression on
his face, not even seeming to care that she had caught him watching her.
She felt a slow smile spread
across her face.
She might be insane, but it
was a nice kind of madness.
-------------------------
Spock's chime rang again and
he wondered if it was Christine coming back to say she had changed her
mind. She had not appeared fully
committed to the dinner scenario. He had
never expected it to be this hard to win a little time with her. In the past, he would have bet that she would
be what his roommate at the Academy had dubbed "the sure thing." She had turned out to be a long way from
that.
"Come," he said
softly, waiting as his door swooshed open.
Kirk entered, smiling his
easy grin. "Time to knock
off."
Spock looked at his chrono,
was surprised to see that several hours had passed since Christine had come to
apologize. "I did not realize it
was so late."
Kirk leaned against the
wall. "What are you working
on?"
"I am attempting to link
the attributes of the singularity we discovered to other known phenomena. I would like to be able to draw conclusions
about its origin and capabilities."
"Any luck?"
Spock nodded. "I believe I have found a similar energy
vortex on Lyciria. I will know more when
I have completely correlated the data."
"Great. In the meantime, you interested in dinner and
chess?"
"I have plans tonight,
Jim."
"Really?" Kirk sat down in the chair opposite him. "With a certain doctor we both
know?"
"It is possible,"
Spock said, watching as Kirk started grinning.
"Jim, it is just dinner."
"Dinner with
Christine." Kirk shook his
head. "Keep it light, my
friend. She's seriously gun shy when it
comes to you."
"I am aware of
that." Spock closed down his work
and sat back. "I admit to having
some trepidations about this evening."
"It's natural to be a
little nervous. First date
jitters." Kirk laughed softly. "I feel like your dad or something. Should I give you 'the talk'?"
Spock glared at him. "That will not be necessary."
"Should I give her the
talk?" Kirk laughed harder. "She's a damned interesting woman,
Spock. You do realize that?"
"I do." Spock frowned slightly. "I am not completely sure why I did not
see that in the past."
"People change. Sometimes it takes awhile for someone to grow
into herself. Or himself. I'd say you're both late bloomers." Kirk shot him a fond glance. "You're also both nice people. Caring, serious, driven. Find the similarities tonight, Spock. Hit them hard. Make her feel comfortable with you. And for god's sake, keep it light."
"You have said that
already, Jim." Spock steepled his
fingers, pursed his lips thoughtfully.
"I am not sure I am capable of keeping it light."
"Try?" Kirk pushed himself out of the chair. "And try to have a good time. Remember, this is supposed to be fun."
"Yes. Fun."
Kirk shook his head, as if in
surrender. He headed for the door.
"Jim?"
Kirk looked back.
"Did you ever consider
seeing Christine on a social basis?"
Kirk gave him an odd
smile. "I'm married to the ship,
remember?"
"Jim? Please?"
Kirk took a deep breath. "I don't use the word delightful
lightly, Spock. She's a fascinating woman. If things were different...maybe." He shook his head. "But things aren't different. And she makes a damned delightful friend
too. And I can always use
that." He gave Spock a slow smile,
then turned and left.
Spock sat back, considering
Jim's words. He had not found Christine
particularly delightful yet. Perhaps
tonight would be a chance to discover the woman of whom Jim was so fond.
If he could just keep it
light.
------------------------
Chapel sat back in her chair,
trying not to take another look around the mess hall. She felt as if every eye was on her, which
was ridiculous. Nobody cared that she
was having dinner with Spock.
He came back with two glasses
of water, set them down and sat in his graceful way. She let herself look at him, really look at
him. He had aged more than she'd
expected. While his hair was still dark
and full, his face was more lined than the man she had lusted after for so
long. He was starting to look craggy,
almost careworn. It was a look he wore
well.
"Why are you staring at
me, Christine?" he asked softly.
"I am reasonably certain I have nothing on my face."
"I'd tell you if you
did." She smiled. "Just trying to see how you've changed
over the years."
"Kohlinar is an extreme discipline. There was a point during it that I looked in
the mirror and saw that I looked older.
Much older." He shot her an
eyebrow that seemed to say, "Imagine that?"
"I thought purging
emotions would be good for the skin," she said with a smile. "No facial expressions, no
wrinkles."
"If that were the case,
then I would look very young indeed."
She laughed. "True."
He seemed to study her
face. "You smile often, yet your
skin is exceedingly smooth."
She could feel herself
starting to blush. "Good genes and
too much time in a lab instead of outdoors.
Or maybe it's all those expensive beauty products."
"You do not seem the
type."
"No?" She leaned forward. "Tell me, Spock. What do you know about the type?"
He smiled slightly. "My maternal aunt is what I believe was
once called a society matron."
Chapel held up a hand. "Enough said. Tubs and pots and bottles line her vanity, I
bet."
Spock nodded. "When I was younger, I offered her an
analysis of the chemical efficacy of the compounds."
"Bet that went over
well."
"It did not. She told me I did not understand the synergy
of the ingredients."
Chapel rolled her eyes. "We both know science is all about
synergy."
He seemed to smile
again. "Yes, we do."
She could feel herself
relaxing slightly. It was easy to talk
about science. And easy to tease
him. If he just kept things light,
they'd be fine.
"You finished medical
school quite quickly, did you not?"
"They let me test out of
a lot of stuff. Something to be said for
working in the flagship's sickbay after all." She grinned.
"Not to mention that I already had two Ph.D.s. That went a long way towards credibility."
"I imagine
so." He ate slowly, not
rushing. "You never did say if you
enjoy being a doctor?"
"No, I didn't, did
I?" She smiled. "I do.
But other than the nice office and the new title, there are times it
doesn't feel that different."
He nodded thoughtfully. "I believe you often went far beyond the
duties traditionally thought of for a nurse.
As you were already serving in some capacities as a physician, it will
not seem a dramatic change."
She hadn't thought of
that. "You're right. I have Len to thank for that. He pushed me, let me grow. He didn't believe in keeping people down if
they showed potential."
"Are you enjoying
working with him again?"
She nodded.
"You were intended to be
CMO, were you not?"
She laughed. "I was.
But that was for Will, and he's off being a new life form. I don't think he's put a complaint in on my
behalf yet." She grinned at Spock,
was surprised to see him give her a small smile back.
"No, I do not believe
that he has. I am sure he will attend to
it soon."
She laughed. "Somehow I doubt that." She felt the pensive sadness come over. It happened whenever she thought of
Will. "What do you think they
became?"
Spock considered that. "They evolved into some form of pure
energy. I believe the potential for them
is unlimited."
"God?"
He shook his head. "I am not sure what that means in a
scientific sense. But more evolved than
us, certainly. V'ger's knowledge was
beyond comprehension, Christine. The
worlds it had visited, the technologies and information it had collected were
immense. Add to that Commander Decker's
natural curiosity, his great capacity for caring, and I believe the new entity
will be something truly remarkable."
She felt tears sting her
eyes. No one had ever put it quite that
way before. She found the idea
comforting. That Decker would humanize
the V'ger part. That he'd keep doing good. She smiled.
"He was a very nice man."
"And he was your
friend. It is natural to feel his
loss." He moved his hand toward her
but then let it fall to the table without touching her. "You have recently had to deal with a
great deal of loss, Christine. I
understand that."
She looked up at him, saw
that his expression was gentle, calm. He
didn't look worried about her, was just stating a fact. Letting her be who she was, letting her feel
what she felt. She slowly moved her
hand, set it down on his. His skin was
so warm. Comforting.
"Thank you," she
said.
"For what?"
She smiled slowly,
shrugged. As she drew her hand away, she
felt herself fully relax. Spock was a
nice man too. If she let him be.
Spock walked into sickbay. He had been waiting for Christine by the
transporter room door for fifteen minutes.
It was not like her to be late.
She rushed toward him. "We had a last minute emergency. Rock climbing accident. Broken leg.
I'm going to be a few more minutes."
"I can return
later. Or we can forego a visit to the
planet."
"Miss shore leave? Not on your life." She indicated a chair. "I just have to check the bone placement
once the regenerator finishes."
He sat, watching her as she
worked. She ignored him, and he
commended her sense of duty. She was
dedicated to her profession. And quite
proficient at it.
She was indeed a fascinating
woman. Jim had been right--but then his
friend usually was.
Jim had been right about
keeping it light as well. Spock had
worked hard to make their first dinner an occasion that would not threaten her,
that would not spook her into running from him again. They had eaten together many times since
then. A simple meal shared, usually just
the two of them, sometimes with Kirk and McCoy.
They occasionally ended the evening talking in the auxiliary observation
lounge. That had become more common as
she relaxed around him.
He saw her gently touch the
young woman on the biobed, moving her leg as she checked the bones. She was so careful, so thorough. Her smile for her patient was a mixture of
confidence and sweetness. An expression
that imparted comfort and trust.
Spock looked away, saw one of
the other doctors watching her too.
Morrow. Spock decided the man
might not be as safe as Christine seemed to think he was. He felt a surge of irritation, of
territoriality. Wondered if that was a
Vulcan or strictly human reaction to the man's interest in Christine.
Well, Spock would soon have
her away from him. Away from everyone. He had grown tired of dinners, of the
limitations of the few hours they spent together. He was anticipating spending more time, less
structured time with her off the ship.
In a new environment--an environment neither of them controlled or knew
well. Where they would be on even
footing, united in their exploration.
He almost smiled. He was becoming as whimsical as Jim.
"You loitering here for
a reason, Spock?" McCoy said as he walked into sickbay.
Spock knew McCoy had been on
the first shore leave rotation. He was
here to relieve Christine.
"I am waiting for Doctor
Chapel."
McCoy grinned. "Music to my ears, my friend. Music to my ears." He glanced Christine's way, seemed satisfied
that he was not needed. Turning back to
Spock, he said in a slow drawl.
"Just what are your intentions toward my deputy, Mister
Spock?"
Spock gave him his most
eloquent eyebrow.
McCoy burst out
laughing. "Yeah, I didn't think
you'd tell me. I'll have to try that
line on her.
Spock hoped he didn't.
McCoy read his expression
perfectly, laid a quick hand on his shoulder.
"Don't worry, Spock. I'm not
going to mess things up for you."
He smiled, then headed to his office.
Christine finished what she
was doing and walked to McCoy's office.
They conferred for a moment and then she ducked into her office,
grabbing her casual clothes. She
mouthed, "One minute," dramatically to Spock and headed for the staff
locker room.
It had been his experience
that with human females most time estimates for being ready had to be
multiplied by a factor of five, perhaps seven.
But she was back in just slightly over the time she said, smiling as she
pulled her hair out of the clips that held it up.
She put her uniform in her
office and tossed the clips on her desk.
Her hair swung free at her shoulders and he suddenly wanted to touch it,
to see what it would feel like. It had
the sheen of Vulcan silk.
"Ready?" she
asked.
He forced himself to focus on
things besides the texture of her hair.
"Yes."
"Let's go." She took in his uniform. "Guess casual clothes are out for
you? Or are all your robes at the
cleaner?"
He chose not to answer, just
raised an eyebrow. She laughed loudly
and he gave her the small smile that she so naturally pulled from him.
"Have you been to this
planet before?' she asked as they headed into the transporter room.
"I have not."
"Then we'll explore it
together." She smiled at him as
they were transported from the Enterprise to the surface of Calexilon.
The first thing that hit him
was the heat. It felt like Vulcan. But the atmosphere was more Earthlike, easier
for her than Vulcan would be. He'd seen
how difficult the harsh conditions had been for his mother. Although Christine struck him as somehow hardier
than this mother, her tall, lanky form more resilient.
He no longer questioned that
he thought about Christine's form, or how sturdy it might be. Or what other things she might be able to
easily withstand. He forced his thoughts
away from sex. He might no longer
question that he seemed to think of it more often, but it did not mean he had
to indulge himself shamelessly.
"Penny for your
thoughts?" she asked.
He did not think a penny
would be sufficient for his more lascivious thoughts, so he retreated to safer
ground. "This place is much like
Vulcan."
She nodded. "Hot enough to be." She opened a fastener on her shirt, letting
air in at the neck.
He found himself fascinated
with the movement, realized the fasteners went all the way down.
"What?" She looked concerned. "Are you feeling
okay, Spock?"
He nodded quickly, too
quickly. Forced his eyes away from her
skin. It would not do to let her see how
much he wanted her. It would be counter
to the light approach that Jim had advocated, that Spock knew was the only way
he could win her.
He wondered if Christine knew
that a Vulcan could desire someone as much as Spock did her. That it was not only at the time of the Pon
Farr that such thoughts rose, making it difficult to concentrate. It had been a shock to him when he realized
his parents slept together, that they touched each other between the seven
years. It should not have been
surprising, nowhere did it say Vulcans could not desire...could not love. But he had assumed that his father, stern
taskmaster that he was, treated his mother in much the same way as he did
Spock. That she would come up wanting,
would disappoint him. But she did not.
Spock was glad for her, even
if he wished just once he could make Sarek proud.
"Spock?" Christine touched his hand lightly, the
caress glancing.
He had the illogical urge to
take her hand, to walk with her that way.
Her frown grew. "What's the matter?" There was something in her eyes, a suspicion,
a fear.
He realized that she thought
his reactions were due to the Pon Farr.
He did not think she would ask him outright about it though. He must find a way to explain. A way that was light. He wondered if Jim would come down and do it
for him. Give her 'the talk', once Spock explained the Vulcan birds and bees to
his friend--what little Jim didn't already know. Spock's mouth turned up slightly.
She smiled, but her brows
narrowed in confusion. She touched his
hand again.
This time he did capture it
briefly. Stroked her skin gently, reveling
in her coolness. "I am very
distracted today."
"I can tell. Is it an experiment? Do you need to go back to the
ship?" She sounded like she hoped
it was work that was distracting him.
He shook his head, drew her
away from the beam-in sight, then dropped her hand again as they walked. "I am distracted by you."
She swallowed. "Oh."
"That is not a bad
thing, Christine." He kept his tone
casual. If he could just make her joke
about this, they would be all right.
"But it's
unusual." She took a deep
breath. "I just hope it's not once
every seven years unusual."
He glanced at her, surprised
she would speak so frankly. Pleased that
she would. It implied a level of trust
that he had worried would not manifest between them. "It is not that, Christine. I simply enjoy your company. Exceedingly."
She smiled. "You do, huh?"
He nodded.
"Well, there's no
accounting for taste."
He relaxed; she was
joking. "No, there is
not." He slowly let one eyebrow
rise.
She laughed. "What do you want to do?"
He decided that finding a
secluded place and making love to her was probably not an option. He chose the next best thing. "The museum here is reported to be
excellent."
"The museum it is,
then." She brushed up against
him.
He could not tell if the
movement was accidental or deliberate.
He decided he did not care; he just hoped she would do it again.
--------------------------
Chapel followed Spock around
the museum. He seemed to have settled
down since they'd entered the huge building, losing himself in the exhibits of
culture and history and art. But
earlier, he had seemed so oddly distracted.
By her, as he had himself admitted.
For one brief moment, she'd even thought she'd seen a look of pure
desire cross his face.
Desire for her. In the past, it would have seemed
unlikely--impossible actually. But
they'd been getting along so well, their dinners becoming more and more
comfortable and fun. He joked with her
more than she would ever have thought possible.
Teased her gently, his humor scattered throughout more serious
conversations about the ship, or science, or their pasts.
They even spent time with Jim
and Len. She loved their dinners,
invariably ended up spending the entire evening laughing as Spock played straight
man for all three of them.
She could tell both Jim and
Leonard approved of the relationship.
Somehow, that made it easier to relax.
If they didn't think Spock would hurt her, why should she?
She moved to the next room,
lost herself in studying the textiles until Spock came up behind her, standing
close to her. A few months ago, it would
have made her nervous if he had stood this close. She would have wondered what he wanted, and
why he wanted it. She would have
obsessed over it.
He leaned in, his breath hot
on her ear as he said, "This fabric reminds me of Escher's early
works."
He was so close to her. She leaned back, barely had to move for her
back to touch his chest. She felt him
lean in, press slightly against her.
"It does look like Escher,"
she said quietly.
"My mother enjoys his
work. She has a framed original drawing
that she keeps in her study." He
did not move away from her, in fact seemed to move closer.
Where their bodies touched an
amazing amount of heat was being generated.
She took a shaky breath, felt his hand rest lightly on her upper
arm. She stared at the fabric, not
wanting to move on, afraid to break the moment.
"Christine?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you for spending
the day with me." He moved his hand
down slowly, till their hands were touching.
She spread her fingers, felt
his move to fill the space between.
"You're welcome,"
she said throatily.
The sound of someone coming
up behind him made her turn to look.
Spock pulled away, letting go of her hand. She smiled at him, was rewarded with one of
his small smiles.
"We aren't doing
anything wrong," she said as she followed him to the next exhibit.
"Not yet at any
rate," he answered back, his tone light.
Another joke. His way of teasing
her.
She thought.
He turned to look at
her. His eyes were intense, seemed to
bore into her.
She decided she wouldn't want
to bet the farm on him not being serious.
She waited until the other
people had moved on, then she moved, stood next to him, let her hand rub up
against his. She touched his wrist, and
he took her hand in his, holding on tightly but not turning to look at her.
"Spock?"
He took a breath; it seemed
to require a great deal of effort.
"Yes, Christine?"
"If you could do
anything you wanted at this moment, what would it be?"
He turned to look at her and
the answer was in the way his gaze raked over her before he met her eyes. "What would you choose to do?"
She grinned, squeezed his
hand. "Not fair. I asked you first."
He looked away.
"What?"
"My answer may not
please you."
"I asked. I must want to know."
"Logical." He shot her a look that was light again.
She smiled. "So?
What would it be?"
"As long as I could be
with you, I would be satisfied with any activity."
She laughed. "You have been hanging around Jim too
much. Talk about the charming
evasion." She moved closer,
whispered, "Tell me?"
He did not answer, but his
grip on her hand tightened briefly.
"Should I
guess?" She could hear the note of
teasing in her voice, a note she had never used with him before. Coy.
Flirtatious.
"Guessing would be
acceptable," he said.
So a Vulcan could flirt
back? She smiled. "Does it involve the two of us, this
activity you'd like to be doing?"
He shot her a look she could
only classify as playful. "No, I
thought we would each need a team of ten."
She laughed, saw him react to
her spontaneous enjoyment. Again his
hand tightened on hers. "Hmm, so
twenty of us."
"Twenty-two, Christine.
Ten each in addition to you and me. But
upon reflection, perhaps the two of us will be sufficient." He turned away from the exhibit, faced
her.
"Does it involve
science?"
"Biology."
She smiled. She had not expected him to be able to make
light of sex this way. "I'm good at
biology."
"I am as well."
She pushed him toward the
next exhibit. He drew her with him, not
letting go of her hand.
"Is it enjoyable, this
activity?" she asked.
"Yes, if done correctly,
it is most enjoyable."
"And if done
incorrectly?" She saw his look and
answered for him, "It's still pretty good?"
He nodded then looked away,
seemingly entranced by the plain brown cloth that was displayed before him.
"Embarrassed,
Spock?"
"Not at all. Are you, Christine?"
"No." She marveled at that. She was engaging in seductive banter with
Spock. And it wasn't embarrassing at
all. They were joking about having
sex. Only she could tell from the way he
was holding her hand, the way he occasionally glanced at her as they stood in
front of this very boring display that this was no joke. He wanted her. Very much.
Possibly as much as she
wanted him.
"Is it a good idea, this
activity of yours?"
He swallowed, his Adam's
apple bobbing. He turned to look at her,
his expression more concerned now than intense.
"I am unsure."
She was touched at his
worry. "I think it might be
okay."
"You do?"
She nodded slowly.
His expression shifted, away
from concern back to lust. And it was
lust, she could see that now.
She smiled. "You want me?"
"I do." He seemed relieved to be saying it.
"When?"
"Would 'five minutes
ago' be an insensitive response?"
She laughed. "No.
It would be an honest one."
He nodded, affection in his
gaze, in the way he touched her cheek so briefly. "I can, however, wait until you are ready."
"I appreciate
that."
"Do you have any idea
when that moment will be?"
He sounded like a little
boy. She laughed at the wistfulness in
his expression, the longing in his voice.
Laughed and leaned forward to give him a kiss on the cheek. His skin was warm and soft under her lips.
She pulled away slightly,
then moved so that her lips brushed his lightly, softly. His hand came up, pressing on her back,
pushing her closer.
Voices in the next room made
them jump apart. The look he gave her made
her laugh. It was one of extreme
annoyance that they had been disturbed.
As she backed away from him,
she said softly, "Soon, Spock. I'll
be ready soon."
---------------------
As Spock followed Christine
around the minerals display, he decided that the word "soon" lacked
specificity, and should, in fact, be stricken from the language. He glanced at Christine, decided it would not
do to ask her to refine her answer. She
wanted him too. That would have to be
enough data for now.
She turned to look at him,
then moved close, pressing against him in a way that would have been most
inappropriate if they had not been alone in the darkened room. He allowed himself to hold her, to pull her
close. He was kissing her before he
could think better of it.
Her lips were soft, cool
under his. Her body so strong as she
pressed against him. He forced himself
not to groan. He could not remember ever
being this aroused outside of the Pon Farr.
But then he had never before
spent months pursuing someone, getting to know her, the way he had with
Christine.
He forced himself to pull
away from her, realized that the signs of his arousal were very evident. "Perhaps you could leave me alone for a
moment?" He looked down, trusted
she would understand.
She brushed her hand down his
chest, and kept going.
He did groan when she moved
over him. "Christine, please."
She smiled up at him in a new
way, a pleased way. She understood,
finally. What she did to him. What he wanted from her. The power she held over him.
"Do Vulcans have
meaningless sex, Spock?" Her hand
brushed over him again as she waited for the answer.
"Not as a
rule." He grabbed her hand when she
seemed about to make a third pass.
"Certainly that would not be the case here. I care for you."
She gently pulled her hand
away. "I care for you too. And just in case you were wondering, I'm
ready. Now." She turned and walked out, giving him the
privacy he'd asked for.
Her words echoed in his
ears. He suddenly wished he'd worn one of
his robes. It was a long time before he
could leave the room.
She turned as he walked
toward her. The seductive smile she gave
him almost forced him to return to the minerals room.
"Calculate Pi to the
fiftieth decimal place." She
grinned at him. "And do it
fast."
Fortunately, she did not look
down. He thought he would have been lost
if she had. "Where?" he
managed to get out.
"Well, there's the
ship. There's a guest lodging here. Or there's the great outdoors." She looked at him teasingly. "Personally, I'd rather not go for
option number three. We could get cited
for disorderly conduct."
"That would be
unfortunate. We would lose precious
time."
"My thoughts
exactly." She seemed to be careful
not to touch him as they walked out of the museum. "There are benefits to being off the
ship."
"Yes." He began to weigh them against the costs,
then realized the computations were not helping his physical state. He quickly went back to figuring Pi.
"On the other hand,
there are pros to being in our quarters.
We wouldn't have to go back when shore leave is over, for
instance."
Spock realized that at this
point he didn't care where they did it, just that they did it.
She laughed at his
expression. "Doesn't really matter
much to you, does it?"
He shook his head. "Should I regret that?"
She smiled. "I'll take it as a compliment. Hmmm. Which should it be?" She stopped walking, tapped her forefinger
against her lips as if in great thought.
He realized she was teasing
him and pushed her toward the beam-out site.
"We do not have to check into our quarters. Moreover, we do not have to check out of them
and return to the ship. Utilizing our
quarters will allow us at least thirty additional minutes."
She grinned. "Wow, that logic stuff is useful."
He considered calling the
Enterprise and asking for immediate beam-up, but unlike when he had done it for
her, he could see no real need except to end this torment of desire. He walked on, glad to see that she was
keeping up easily, seemed to be as intent on getting back to the ship as he
was.
"Spock?"
"Yes."
"Thank you."
He glanced over at her. "Did I do something pleasant?"
She laughed. "For not giving up on me. I'm not sure
why you didn't, but I'm glad that you didn't."
"Many years ago, you did
not give up on me. I am merely returning
the favor."
"Awww. That's so sweet."
He tried not to look too
pleased. He had thought it was a
Jim-worthy response also. It was, at
times, very useful having such a charming friend.
"Spock?"
"Yes?"
"You do realize that
we're practically running, right?"
He had not realized
that. He slowed his pace, heard her
laugh. "You are enjoying this far
too much, Doctor Chapel."
"Why, Mister Spock, I
thought enjoyment was the idea."
The raw seduction in her
voice made him want her even more.
They finally arrived at the
spot they had beamed down to. Spock
nodded to the security officer who kept the area clear whenever someone beamed
in, then tried to relax as they beamed back to the ship.
As they walked quickly out of
the transporter room, she said softly, "We get to that age old question,
Spock. Your place or mine?"
"Mine is three decks
closer."
"Problem
solved." She followed him to his.
The lift took forever to
arrive; he would have to have the technicians run diagnostics. It seemed particularly slow in reaching his
deck, as well. He considered stopping
the lift, pulling her toward him, but knew that would not be wise.
"Eager?" she
whispered, as if she had read his mind.
"Yes." He looked over at her.
She smiled. "Me too."
The doors finally opened and
he charged out. She seemed to be
deliberately walking with agonizing slowness.
The corridor was empty so he grabbed her hand and pulled her after
him. She laughed; the delightful sound
filled his ears.
Yes, she was delightful. He no longer needed to wonder what Jim
meant. And in a few moments, he would
know far more about her than his friend did.
He hoped. He was still not completely clear on the
nature of his friend's past relationship with her. He decided not to dwell on it. She was his now.
He palmed open his door,
moved quickly through them, pulling her after him. As soon as the door closed, he locked it,
then pulled her into his arms.
He tried to go slow, but the
feel of her arms around his neck, her lips against his, were making him mad
with desire. "Christine, I wish to
make this good--"
"--Shh. It will be." She pulled him back, kissed him again, her
body pressing against his, making him respond to her.
He surrendered to sensation,
to raw desire, to love. Yes, he loved
her. He wanted her. He cared for her. He remembered how V'ger had not understood
this, wondered briefly if it did now. Pitied
it if it didn't.
He pulled away from her,
stared at her. Touching her cheek, he
let his hand move back to her hair. It
did feel like silk. "I love you,"
he whispered to her.
Her grip on him tightened,
her eyes went very soft. He saw no
fear, no hesitation when she said, "I love you too."
He slowly undid her shirt,
taking pleasure as each fastener came loose, enjoying the sight of her skin,
her body as it was revealed to him. She
was so strong, so lovely. He pushed the
shirt off her, ran his fingers over her stomach, her chest, across her
shoulders.
He could feel her arousal
through his touch, wondered if she could feel any of his the way she had felt
him when he'd tried to help her after her father died.
She began to undo his
uniform, her hands shaking a bit, so he pulled her back to him, kissed her for
a long time, until the taste of her and feel of her and smell of her became
familiar. Became home.
She went back to her task,
her hands steady this time as she pushed his uniform off. He removed the rest of her clothes, followed
her down to the bed. He lost himself in
her body, in the way she bucked up against him, the way she cried out as she
surrendered to the pleasure they were creating.
At the way she held him when he cried out.
"Christine," he
murmured, over and over as he loved her.
They put those extra thirty
minutes to good use.
--------------------------
"You look well
rested," Kirk said as he walked into sickbay. Then he grinned. "Actually, you don't. Enjoyed your shore leave, did you?"
Christine smiled, tried to
make it an innocent smile but knew she failed when he laughed.
"I won't press,
Christine." He sat down in the
chair by her desk. "Just tell me
you're happy."
She smiled again, touched his
hand. "I'm happy, Jim."
They shared a long look. She finally looked away.
"Spock seems pretty
chipper too. For a Vulcan anyway. A Vulcan who got absolutely no sleep."
She refused to rise to the
bait.
"He's happy. You're happy.
My friends are happy. What could be
better?"
"Maybe you should find
someone?" She smiled gently, wanted
to share the way she felt.
"I'm married to the
ship, Christine. Remember?"
She nodded slowly. "On Earth you weren't. Why didn't you find someone then?"
"I thought I did. I thought I'd found it all with
Lori."
She looked down. "I'm sorry. I should learn to think before opening my
mouth."
"It's okay." He waited until she looked up at him, then
shot her a wry grin. "I'll let you
in on a little secret. I'm not so good
at romance."
She thought back over the
years, realized he was right. That
seemed so unfair to her. That he
shouldn’t be good at romance, shouldn't be lucky at love. "Maybe that'll change?"
He stood up, smiled. The golden-boy, one hundred percent, I'll worry
about it tomorrow, Kirk grin.
"Maybe it will." He
leaned down and kissed her cheek.
"I'm glad you're happy. You
deserve to be."
Then he left. A few moments later, she heard him talking to
McCoy.
"He is happy for
us?"
She looked up, saw Spock at the
doorway. "He is. And aren't you supposed to be in command if
he's down here?"
"Mister Sulu is more
than capable. And I wanted to see
you." The look he gave her was full
of tenderness and desire.
She smiled at him. Then she yawned. "I'm exhausted. In a good way."
"I suppose I must allow
you some sleep tonight?"
She could feel her smile turn
into a leer. "I'm not so sure about
that. I can go quite a while with no
sleep. I did it before."
His look changed, became
tenderer but also more firm. "I
will not have you get to that state because of me." He reached out his hand to her.
She reached back, their
fingertips barely touching. She smiled
up at him. "I'll see you
later?"
"I was anticipating
that."
"Good."
He dropped his hand, and she
heard McCoy and Kirk coming back.
"Why, Spock. Did you come to see me?" McCoy looked into the office, winked at
her. "Because I know you didn't
wander all the way down here just to talk to Christine."
Spock raised an eyebrow and
she laughed.
Kirk pulled McCoy away. "We'll leave you two alone. Although I could have sworn I gave you the
conn, Spock." He grinned at her,
then followed McCoy out.
"Guess you should get up
to the bridge."
He nodded, turned to go, then
looked back at her. "I am...glad
that I melded with V'ger."
She smiled. "So am I."
They stared at each other,
the moment stretching out impossibly.
Then he turned and left.
A second later he was back, closing
her door, hitting the privacy screens, and then turning to her, pulling her
into his arms for a very long, very loving kiss. She let herself fall into him, into the
moment, into the love she felt for him, the love she'd never stopped feeling
for him but had been so afraid to acknowledge.
"I love you," he
whispered.
Then he was gone.
She smiled. Wondered if Will was looking down on her now
from wherever he was, smiling that she was finally happy.
She hoped so.
FIN
Curious what Kirk meant by "Delightful?" Try What Might Have Been for a very short look at Chapel and Kirk before V'ger.