DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc. The story contents are the creation and property of Djinn and is copyright (c) 2000 by Djinn. This story is Rated PG-13.
From the Sky
by Djinn
The sky had darkened. In
the distance she thought she heard the first rumble of thunder. She waited for
the lightning, but the sky remained black.
"Come back to
bed." His voice was warm and deep and sleepy. "Come back to bed,
Chris."
"I just want to watch
the storm for a while," she whispered. "Watch the sky."
He wrapped his arms around
her. She hadn't even heard him get up.
"Maybe someday you'll
tell me what's up there you find so fascinating? You need to start sharing with
me, love. We're together now. We shouldn't have any secrets."
She leaned back against
him and felt his arms tighten. "Everyone has secrets, Steven."
He leaned in and kissed
her cheek. "I don't."
No, he probably didn't.
But she did. Secrets she intended to keep...forever.
He pulled her back with
him to the bed. "You're in a strange mood tonight, Chris."
She followed him down to
the nest of covers and let him tuck her in next to him. Curling into his body, she
found a spot that allowed her to be close to him and still watch the storm.
"Go to sleep, Steven. I'll be better in the morning."
He kissed her gently then
relaxed. She heard his breathing slow as he drifted into sleep. It was only as
she watched the sky that she felt her own body relax. A rhythmic sound on the
roof signaled rain had started. The sky suddenly lit with the first bright
streak of lightning. Several seconds later came the deep rumble of thunder.
Still far away. Just like Spock. So far away.
As the sky ignited with a
sheet of lightning, she felt her eyes begin to fill. Storms and Spock. Forever
linked in her mind. She hated them both. She loved them both.
Steven rolled over and
released her. She rose carefully from the bed and left the room. Finding her
way across the living area, she grabbed a throw and wrapped it around her
shoulders. She settled into the chair by the large picture window and let the
storm mask the sound of her weeping.
She hoped Steven wouldn't
wake up. He didn't deserve this—didn't need this.
She buried her face into
the crook of her arm and muffled the wild sobs that threatened to tear her
apart in the thick softness of the throw. Why wouldn't this pain go away? Why couldn't
she forget Spock? Damn him!
##
Two years earlier
"Doctor Chapel, may I
speak with you?"
Christine turned to see
Spock standing in the door of her office at Starfleet medical. She felt her
stomach lurch.
"Spock, this is a
surprise. What could possibly cause you to darken my door?" She tried to
soften her words with a gentle smile.
He looked down as he
nearly whispered, "It is a private matter."
Christine fought a
moment's panic. So it had finally come, the words she
both dreaded and wanted to hear. The burning was imminent and he hadn't found a
mate. After the incident with V'ger she'd found the courage to seek Spock out.
She'd told him that if he ever needed her, she'd be there for him. She'd sworn she
wouldn't see him die. All he had to say were the words she'd just heard. He'd
thanked her gravely at the time but she'd never thought that he'd need her, had
expected him to take a wife, build a family. He hadn't. He was here.
"Now?" Her voice
was steady despite her racing thoughts.
He looked at her finally.
"Soon."
"How soon,
Spock?" She'd need to take leave. No one else was gone so that shouldn't
be a problem. They could go to her uncle's house in the Blue Ridge Mountains.
They would be assured of privacy there.
"Doctor?" She
realized that Spock had answered her and she'd been lost in planning.
"I'm sorry. I didn't
hear what you said."
"One week, I have
about one week."
"Okay. I'll call you
when I've arranged everything. I can leave in five days—will that be soon
enough?"
"Yes." He
stopped and swallowed visibly. "Doctor Chapel, you made this promise some
time ago. Your feelings or your circumstances may have changed. If you no
longer wish to do this, I will understand."
She gave him another
gentle smile. "I won't let you die, Spock. I can't."
He nodded and turned to
go.
"Spock."
He turned, his expression
questioning.
"I think you have to
call me Christine now."
He nodded again; his eyes
were dark and unfathomable. "Christine."
She felt her heart flutter
in anticipation and in fear. At that moment he seemed perfectly alien. But it
didn't matter—she would not let him die, not when it was in her power to save
him. "I'll call you as soon as I have the details."
"Thank you,
Christine. You cannot know what this means to me..."
"I know, Spock. I
know."
##
The cabin was perfect.
Christine finished putting away the last of the supplies and went into the next
room to make up the bed. She opened the windows to chase out the stuffy air.
The temperature outside was fresh and clean, much cooler than in the lowland
areas below. Summer in Virginia—who could stand it? Her uncle had taken them on
day trips to Charlottesville, D.C., Williamsburg, Richmond. She'd hated leaving
the pleasant warmth of the Blue Ridge for the swamp feel of those crowded
tourist sites.
But she'd always loved the
fierce summer storms that swept the area. Her cousins had huddled in their beds
but she'd never hidden from the lightning and thunder. She remembered sitting
in front of the open window in the attic room they all shared with the rain
blowing into her face as she felt, not just saw or heard, the storm. A part of
her wanted it to storm tonight, wanted to have that as the accompaniment to
being with Spock.
"Christine."
She whirled at his voice.
He was early. He set his travel bag down and moved to help her with the bedding.
She felt herself blush at the simple domesticity of the act.
His voice sounded somewhat
deeper than normal as he expressed approval for the cabin, and she felt a rush
of pleasure that he appreciated the place, appreciated her. She started to pull
the spread over the sheet but he moved to her side of the bed and reached for
the covering.
"We will not need
this, Christine." He took the spread and folded it carefully, placing it
on the dresser. Turning back to her, his eyes were like liquid darkness.
"Come out. We should talk while we still have time."
She realized he was going
out of his way not to touch her. He must be very close. She followed him to the
living area and sat across from him.
She started to speak but
he held a hand up. "Christine, I have much to say and it is so difficult.
Vulcans do not have to speak of this. It just is. Both partners are fully aware
of all that will come. But I need to explain things to you. There is much you
must know before this begins."
"Yes, I have many
things I wonder about, worry about."
"Do not fear this,
Christine. It will be intense but I will not injure you. If you did not desire
me so, it might be harder for you. But you are aroused already."
"How...?"
"My senses are more
acute than usual at this time. I know you desire me. I know that you also fear
me."
She nodded. "I am
trying not to. But there are so many rumors of the Pon
Farr and what it means, and how a human wouldn't survive it."
"You will survive it.
Christine. I will meld with you, but it is likely that I will also be overcome
by the intensity of the experience. I may seek to bond with you. Would you be
opposed to that?"
Christine felt confusion
overwhelm her. "Bond? You mean as husband and wife?"
"Yes."
"No!" The words
were out before she could soften them.
His expression was one of
pure surprise, "I would have thought you would welcome the idea. It is
what you have wanted, is it not?"
For a moment she felt her
world crumbling as she fought a nearly overwhelming urge to agree with him.
"I wanted you to come to me. I wanted you to want me. But not like this.
Not because you're under the influence of your hormones." She took a deep
breath. Suddenly a dark emotion was clouding their time. To have the chance to
be his wife and to refuse it was almost more than she could bear. "Can you
fight the urge to bond?"
He nodded, "If you do
not wish it, we will not bond." He looked at her almost sadly. "Your
reasoning is logical. I commend it even if I am surprised by it."
Was he disappointed? She
couldn't tell from his expression. Christine saw the curtains billow as the
wind shifted. In the distance she thought she heard thunder. She looked out for
a moment but there was no sign of the storm. When she looked back, her eyes met
Spock's. His look was more intense than any she'd ever seen him wear. She
slowly stood up, and he mirrored her action. "Spock?" She felt a rush
of desire and saw his eyes darken as he seemed to sense it.
"I burn for thee,
Christine." His hand at last reached out. She held her own out. When they
met it was fire. She was consumed by the feel of his
fingers on hers, his emotions overwhelming her own. Her sadness and confusion
were forgotten, subsumed by Spock's passion, by his lips on her mouth, his
hands on her body. There was no space between them; they were fused and melting
into one another. Spock was feeding off her desire, and sending her back his
own in equal measure.
His mind touched hers and
everything she'd felt up to that moment seemed inconsequential in the face of
this new battering of sensation. Christine, my Christine. Bodies
entwined they fell on the couch as outside the storm broke in all its fury.
Lightning was their witness, thunder their music. Rain blew in on them, cooling
the fires momentarily as they rested. But the burning was on him now and he was
unwilling to be parted from her for long.
Christine felt as if she'd
die of pleasure. His mind, his body, his desire drove her down and then lifted
her up. She felt pure ecstasy, raw sensation. The storm inside her far outshone
the one going on outside.
Hours later Spock lifted
her and carried her to the bed. Exhausted she pulled him down with her. Sleep,
Christine. While you can, you should sleep.
She was out before he
finished shifting to get comfortable. She slept a deep dreamless sleep until he
woke her and the pleasure began again.
##
Christine heard birdsong
as she opened her eyes. She grimaced as her body reminded her just how
exhausted and overtaxed it was. She felt herself turning red as she remembered
the way Spock had made love to her, the intensity of the experience. Turning to
see if he was still asleep, she discovered she was alone in the bed.
"Spock?" she
called out softly. There was no answer.
Moving carefully, she got
out of bed and made her way into the other room. "Spock?"
The room was empty. His
travel case was gone. She saw that the communications module was blinking.
Already knowing who it was from, she started the message.
"Christine, I will
never be able to fully express my gratitude for what you have done for me. We
both know that you have saved my life. I regret leaving in this fashion, but I
do not see a logical alternative. Anything I felt during the days we shared was
a result of the Pon Farr. It would be unfair to try
to build a life on that. You deserve more. You are an exceptional woman,
Christine, and I am in your debt." There was a long pause. "I am
sorry."
Christine played the
message a second time, then a third. Unwilling to believe her ears. He could
not have just left her. Not like this. Not after what they'd shared. Anger
overwhelmed her. Misery joined it. She walked outside, clutching the porch
column as she stared out at the view. Tears blurred her vision and huge
wracking sobs cut off her ability to think, to comprehend. She could only feel,
and all she felt was pain.
##
"Sweetheart?"
Christine jerked awake.
She was still sitting in her living room. Steven knelt before her, obviously
concerned.
"Are you
alright?" He reached up to stroke her hair.
She felt a rush of
affection for this sweet man who was so concerned for her. "I'm fine. I
couldn't sleep and I didn't want to disturb you so I came out here. I must have
fallen asleep."
He shook his head at her,
"You came out to watch the storm, didn't you?"
She nodded and he smiled
knowingly.
"Come on, Doctor,
I'll make you breakfast."
In no time he'd put
together a hearty meal for them both. He kissed her as he set the plate in
front of her.
"You spoil me."
"I love you."
She smiled at him. He
waited for a second then his look grew sad. Sighing, she busied herself with
fixing her coffee.
"Someday, maybe,
you'll say it too?"
She knew he was tired of
waiting for her to express her love. She'd said it more than once when they
were making love, but they both knew it didn't really count then. He wanted to
hear it just out of the blue. She wanted to be able to give him that, but she
couldn't bring herself to lie to him. "Steven,
we've talked about this."
He slammed his fork down.
"No, we really haven't talked about this. You refuse to tell me about your
past. You won't tell me who hurt you."
"Nobody hurt
me."
"Quit lying, Chris.
Just once, tell the truth. I can see it in your eyes. I can hear it in your
voice. Someone hurt you. And the sick thing is that he's the one you love,
isn't he? Not me. Him."
She rose. "I'm late
for work. I can't do this now."
He followed her into the
bedroom. "You never can. Why won't you tell me what this thing is that
stands between us? Why won't you let me love you? Let yourself love me."
She walked into the
bathroom, closing the door in his face. As she entered the shower, she heard
him say, "We're not going to make it, Christine. Not if you won't talk to
me."
She let the hard stream of
water drown out anything else he had to say. When she finished her shower and
walked into the bedroom to get dressed, he went into the bathroom without
saying another word. She sighed heavily. Fine, if that was how it was, she'd
just go on without him.
The walk to the clinic
seemed longer without his normally cheerful presence. How many months had he
been living with her now? Three, no four. He'd pursued her since nearly her
arrival on Cannalise. She'd eagerly accepted a
posting to this beautiful world a few months after her encounter with Spock.
She hadn't been able to stand the thought of running into him anymore at
Starfleet. Of pretending they hadn't been lovers. So she'd
run. And Steven had made no secret of his attraction to her.
He'd been relentless. He
was younger than she and so handsome. Many of the young women would have loved
his attentions. But he wasn't interested in them. He wanted her. She'd resisted
him for over a year. Then one night they'd gone to a party together. A little
too much wine, two full moons, and the next morning she woke up in his arms. He
was so sweet, and his love was like a balm to her battered heart. But she
didn't love him. Would it be kinder to lie to him?
As she entered the clinic,
one of the nurses came over to her. "Doctor Chapel, you have an important
message waiting, from Starfleet medical."
She hurried to her office
and activated the message console. Commander Weston appeared on the screen.
Christine smiled when she saw the other doctor. They'd been roommates in
medical school before Christine had left to pursue Roger Korby. Sharon had been
one of her staunchest supporters when she'd returned to finish her degree.
"Christine. I'm sorry
I didn't catch you personally. It's been far too long since we talked. But this
isn't personal. I wanted to let you know that the Board met today to decide the
upcoming senior level assignments. If you want it, Director of Emergency
Operations is yours. Get back to me as soon as you hear this. I need to get
your acceptance logged in so we can start arranging your transfer.
Congratulations, Christine. Weston, out."
Christine stood stunned.
She hadn't expected to get the position when she threw her name into the hat.
She replayed the message again, almost unable to believe that she'd won the
plum slot. She sent a quick reply back to her friend, accepting the assignment.
"So, another secret
you weren't going to tell me about?" Steven gave her a hard look from the
doorway.
She started to answer but
he turned and walked away before she could form the words.
Sinking into her chair,
she sat for several moments lost in thought, weighing what she was doing. The
beep of the message console interrupted her reverie. It was Sharon.
"So
you're coming home?" Her friend was clearly pleased. "There will be a
shuttle there on Wednesday. Is that too soon for you?"
"Wednesday."
Three days. It probably was best. Cut the cord quick. "I can be ready by
then, Sharon. It'll be great to see you."
"Same here. Call me
when you get in. We have lots to catch up on."
"I will. Chapel,
out."
Christine found herself
suddenly overwhelmed at the thought of going back to Earth. Spock was still
there—but did it matter? He haunted her here too. Wherever she was, he was
going to be a spectre in her life.
She reached over and
dialed the admin officer. He was sorry to hear she was going but assured her
that there was no reason to delay her departure. Two new doctors were coming in
on the same shuttle so the clinic wouldn't be left short
handed. She talked with him a few more minutes then broke the
connection.
A steady stream of
patients kept her from dealing with Steven till the end of the day. She found
him in his office, getting ready to leave.
At her soft knock he
looked up. His expression was controlled and distant. "So
would you have just left one day? Would I have woken up to find you not here
anymore?"
She fought back a sharp
retort. Instead she pulled a chair in close to his.
Taking his hands in hers, she shook her head gently. "Someone did that to
me once. I could never do that to you."
"At last the truth. When it's already too late." He pulled
his hands away, pushed his chair back, and moved away from her. Then he got up
and began to pace—she let him walk because she didn't know what to say to him.
He turned around suddenly.
"I'd go with you."
She felt a new burst of
emotion. This time guilt. "I know but I can't ask
that of you."
"Why not?"
She stood and approached
him. When he looked away, she touched his face and forced his gaze up.
"Because you deserve someone that loves you. Completely and
unconditionally and madly and to the end of time. And you're right. I am in
love with someone else. Someone who doesn't want me. Who may never want me."
It was her turn to look
away and his to pull her face back up. "I do want you. I've always wanted
you. Choose me, Chris."
Oh God, why was this so
hard. She pulled away from him and walked to the window. Staring out at a
landscape she'd come to love, she tried to find the words. Finally
she turned around and met his gaze. "Steven, once upon a time, I turned
down a chance to spend the rest of my life with this man that I love because
the union he proposed didn't involve him actually loving me. How can I then
turn around and offer you just such a life? It would be wrong."
"You could learn to
love me. You could at least try?"
She smiled sadly.
"That's what I used to think about him."
He turned away from her
then spun back around angrily. "How can you still love him?"
She shrugged. "How
can you love me? Love is strange, Steven. We love who we love. It doesn't
always make sense. And this man, he is who he is. I hate him for hurting me.
But I also respect that since he couldn't offer me what I wanted,
he didn't insult me with less."
"Would you take his
offer now?"
She didn't even have to
think about it, "No. I need his love. Anything less would be half a
life."
"Is that what we've
been living?"
"Yes." She saw
him flinch at her bluntness. "Don't fight this, Steven. You're a kind and
generous man. You're an exquisite lover. Somewhere out there is the woman who'll
love you back just the way you want. I really wish it could be me. But it
isn't."
He seemed to think about
this for a long time.
She let him have silence
to process, walked to the window and tried to memorize the landscape. She
should probably try to memorize the man standing behind her but...she just
didn't love him. Regret filled her.
His voice was in her ear
as he whispered, "This man you love. At least tell me who he is?"
She shook her head firmly,
"No. Better to let him remain faceless. Hate and anger are powerful
emotions, Steven. They eat you up inside. If I don't give you a person to focus
on, then you can't waste your life in hatred. Just move on. Move on and forget
me."
He hugged her close, his
chest pressed to her back. "I'll never forget you. Never."
She felt the tears spill
down her cheeks before she realized she was crying. "Nor I you."
The stood together for
several minutes and he held her as she cried. Finally
she turned in his arms so she could face him. "My shuttle leaves in three
days." She saw his dismay as he took that in. "You can keep the
house, I already checked."
"Do you want me to be
somewhere else while you get ready to go?"
"No. But that's so
selfish of me."
He gently wiped the tears
from her face. "Three days. Three days to make enough memories for a
lifetime. I'll take it. Maybe I can change your mind."
She smiled sadly as he led
her out of his office and back to their home. And for the next three days he
loved her the only way he knew how: with everything in him. He did his best to
change her mind.
And in the end, he didn't.
As her shuttle pulled away from the planet, she watched the house they'd shared
grow smaller and smaller. She bid him a silent farewel
as the little ship turned for Earth.
##
The trip was uneventful,
even boring. Christine watched through a viewscreen as Earth's spacedock came into view. A starship was pulling out as
they approached. As it slid below them she saw the
writing on the saucer section. U.S.S. Enterprise. My God, she thought. I
wonder if they're onboard? Kirk, McCoy, Uhura, Sulu, Scotty, Chekov? And Spock.
Was he there too? She felt a prickle down the back of her neck when she thought
of him, but dismissed it as the ship disappeared underneath them. She was
getting superstitious in middle age, seeing disaster at every turn.
As the shuttle pulled into
its berth, she gathered up her bags and followed the other passengers to the
transporter pads. Her household effects would be shipped directly to the
Starfleet holding facility to wait for her to find permanent housing. She gave
the transporter operator her destination and joined a group of other officers
heading for Starfleet Command. A second pause as the transporter hummed and
then they were in the main arrival area. She stepped off the pad.
"Christine!"
She turned and found
herself in a tight embrace. "Sharon, what are you doing here?"
The other woman grinned.
"I'm just getting off work. Thought you could use a hand settling in. And
I missed you, so shoot me." She took one of Christine's bags. "Do you
have a place to stay yet?"
Christine followed her
friend out of the room. "I came here to arrange for temporary
quarters."
Sharon stopped and scowled
at her. "Are you kidding? Stay with me till you find your own place. I've
got plenty of room." She continued walking, the
matter obviously closed in her mind. "We can catch up and watch vids and
make popcorn and get wildly drunk and spill all our secrets. Just like the old
days."
Not all their secrets, but
Christine smiled at Sharon's enthusiasm. The other woman had always known how
to make her feel right at home even though they'd been separated for years.
"I've missed you," she said.
"Ditto, kiddo."
They talked about
Christine's journey and her new position as they walked to Sharon's apartment.
Christine unpacked her things in the guest bedroom then went out to help make
them some dinner.
Sharon handed her a glass
of wine and some vegetables to chop up, before asking, "So, you
nervous?"
Christine took a sip of
the wine. Ah good California Merlot. She'd missed that on Cannalise.
"About being Director of Emergency Ops? Yeah, actually I am. I'd be a fool
not to be nervous. But I'm looking forward to it too. Cannalise
was beautiful but frankly I was getting a little bored. I guess after being on
a starship..."
"The starship,"
Sharon said with a grin.
"The starship, then
something as mundane as being a doctor in a clinic on a peaceful little planet
just wasn't going to be very satisfying."
Sharon nodded as she took
the vegetables from Christine. "Did you find anything to 'satisfy' you
while you were there?"
Christine shot a glance at
Sharon, who was looking at her with a knowing smirk. "I was living with
someone when I left."
"Wow. That's serious.
For you that's really serious. And you just left him?"
Christine drained her
glass. "Yeah, I just left him."
"Why?"
Reaching for the wine
bottle, Christine refilled both of their glasses before she answered.
"Because I'm a heartless bitch. Because I'm too stupid to know a good
thing when I see it. Because he loved me, and I didn't love him. All of the
above."
Sharon didn't look at her
as she asked, "It's not still Spock, is it?" When Christine didn't
answer, she let out an exasperated huff of air. "Christine Chapel, I
cannot believe you're still pining for that man? Has he ever said more than
five words to you? What's wrong with you?"
Spock was the one,
Christine thought but didn't say. '"Steven was a wonderful man. It just
wasn't meant to be. Spock had nothing to do with it."
"I hope not. I'd hate
to think you threw away a perfectly good relationship for that Vulcan piece of—"
"Sharon!"
"Okay, okay. I won't
call him names. I just don't like him, you know that."
Christine nodded and her
friend went back to cooking. Sharon really wouldn't like Spock if she knew the
entire story.
##
Several days later,
Christine came in from a long but invigorating day in her new position. She
dropped her things on the table and yelled a response to Sharon's greeting from
her bedroom. A moment later Sharon came out and dropped on the couch in the
living area and turned on the communications console. "Christine. Get out
here."
In the kitchen, Christine
was getting something to eat. "In a minute. Do you want a sandwich?"
"No, and neither will
you. Get out here now."
Surprised at her friend's
tone of voice, she left the food and walked out to the living room. As she got closer,
she saw Spock's face on the video screen. "What's going on?"
Sharon just looked at her,
ashen. "I'm sorry. I know you cared for him."
"What are you—"
Christine finally was close enough to read the memo. "Captain Spock gave
his life to save the Enterprise and his crewmates." She felt as if she'd
been slugged in the stomach. She couldn't remember how to breath. No, no, no.
"Oh God."
She sank into the couch. They
read the dispatch and then sat in silence. Christine found that she couldn't
cry. She'd been crying for Spock for the last two years. Maybe she didn't have
any more tears.
Sharon touched her
tentatively on the arm.
She gave her a sad but
reassuring smile. "I'm alright, Sharon. I mean, this is so incredibly sad.
My shipmates must be devastated. He was a fine man, and an excellent officer.
But as you said, I hardly knew him." Christine felt what little was left
of her heart shatter into a million pieces. But the face she presented to Sharon
was calm and composed.
Sharon nodded uncertainly.
"If you want to be alone...?"
"Don't be
silly." She got up and went back to the kitchen. "Are you sure you
don't want a sandwich?"
Christine somehow made it through
the rest of the evening. The excuse of a busy day at work allowed her to retire
early. She made it through her door, managed to close it, before the pain
felled her. Holding her stomach, doubled over, the tears she'd thought she was
incapable of crying streamed down her face and she fought to keep her grief
silent. Not making a sound, with shudders wracking her body, she wept her
bitterness and anger and loss and, ultimately, love.
##
The next few days passed
in a blur for Christine. She went to work, interacted with Sharon, all the
while hiding the depths of her loss. She thanked God she'd never told Steven
the name of his rival. Had he known, she suspected that he would have been on
the next shuttle out. And she really couldn't deal with him too right now.
She watched on the
monitors in her office when the Enterprise limped into Spacedock. She sought out Uhura and heard the whole story,
or as much as she could tell her. Then Uhura disappeared without a word. Using
her access, Christine made some queries about her friend. She was shocked by
what she found out. Uhura had helped Kirk take the Enterprise back out,
against orders. And then she'd left with Sarek, presumably for Vulcan. What the
hell was going on?
It was several days later
that Christine heard that the impossible had happened. Spock was alive. She had
no idea how this could be so, but HQ was buzzing with it. She was able to find
out that the Enterprise had been destroyed and that a young man she'd
never heard of but who was apparently Kirk's son was dead. But Spock was alive.
Alive and on Vulcan. And she was here on Earth and nobody even had thought to
tell her he was alive. Nothing has changed. Other than she could let go of this
grief now, not a damn thing has changed.
##
In the following months,
Christine's life fell into a pattern. She worked hard at a job she not only
loved but was good at. She moved into her own place but still saw Sharon often.
She made new friends at work. Some of these friends would have been happy to
deepen the relationship, but she always held them off. She'd learned her lesson
with Steven. It wasn't fair to the other person. Another man already owned her
heart, and that wasn't going to change.
She was just getting breakfast
at home when the console rang with the immediate tone. She rushed to the screen
and heard the ensign notifying her of an impending threat, one that was causing
havoc all over the Federation. She dressed hurriedly and nearly ran to the
Operations Center. The lieutenant on duty gave her a quick picture of the probe
that was even now entering Earth's' orbit.
She and the others watched
helplessly as all their efforts to communicate with the probe came to naught.
She was heartened to see Sarek enter the room, but soon felt dismay when she
heard him urge the President to send a planetary distress call. Then Kirk
appeared on the screen. As he detailed his bizarre plan, Christine felt
absurdly better just knowing he was on the case. If anyone could find these
whales, he would be the one.
Moments later, when
everything seemed to be crashing down around them, she saw the Klingon Bird of
Prey dive into San Francisco Bay. For a moment the craft seemed stable then it
began to sink. She could see nothing happening but suddenly the pattern of
transmissions from the Probe altered and became more dynamic. They'd really
done it. That thing was talking to something. Within a few moments the Probe
withdrew and the systems came back on line. She saw the rescue pod pick up the
crewmembers of the Bird of Prey. One of those people could be Spock. She felt
her spirits lift till she reminded herself that nothing had changed.
The next day Kirk and his
crew faced charges, and Christine used her position to get into the
proceedings. She found herself talking to Sarek and the cetacean biologist Kirk
had brought back with him from the past. Then Spock walked up. Christine
worried that he could hear her heart racing as she struggled to maintain her
composure.
"Welcome back,
Captain Spock."
He turned to her.
"Thank you, Doctor. It is satisfying to have returned safely."
She was about to say more
to him when they were called to order. Spock walked away from her to stand with
his shipmates. Slightly more than five words but not by much. She left quickly
once the verdict was rendered barely stopping to say hello to her friends from
the ship.
##
That night Christine was
making dinner when the door chime sounded. She palmed open the door. Spock
stood before her.
Her shock was palpable.
"Spock?"
"May I come in, Doctor
Chapel?"
She recovered just enough
to motion him in and invite him to take a seat in the living room. He sat very
straight, very rigid. Something was very different about him.
"Doctor Chapel, I may
be presumptuous in coming here. I am struggling to put my past into
perspective. Do you have any idea what happened to me?"
She shook her head so he
briefly explained about the katra and how his was
taken from where he'd placed it in McCoy and refused with his body. "My
memories are no longer linear. No longer coherent. It is as though I have many
fragments of memories, most with little to no context."
"Like a jigsaw
puzzle?'
He thought about that for
a moment. "Very much so. As I put some of the memories where they belong
others fall into place as well. But I have a rogue memory that I cannot seem to
place into context. It concerns you."
She looked at this new
Spock. "You mean the memory of our encounter? Your Pon
Farr?"
He looked distinctly
uncomfortable. "Yes. You were not my mate. You did not become my mate. Why
would we have been together like that?"
Was she so unimportant to
him that he really couldn't recall? "I couldn't let you die. I loved
you."
"Love. It is a
difficult concept. I am trying to understand it as my mother appears to deem it
important."
"Your mother is
human, Spock. Love is important to all humans."
He nodded slowly. "Do
you love me? Still?"
She felt anger rising in
her. And pain that he could treat her like an experiment as he tried to sort
out his memories. She presented her coldest face to him as she replied,
"No Spock, I hate you."
"Hate is a negative
emotion. It is not love. I must try to make sense of this." He rose
slowly, lost in thought. As he studied her expressionless face, he continued,
"I felt that I owed you an apology. Do I?"
"If you don't know
what you're apologizing for, Spock, then the gesture is meaningless."
He nodded again.
"Logical."
She rose and brought the
conversation to a close. "Good bye, Spock. I wish you Peace and Long
Life."
His expression was puzzled
as he turned to her before walking to the door. "Live long and prosper, Doctor
Chapel."
As the door closed behind
him, Christine felt the ice she'd wrapped around herself crack. She fought the
tears but then gave in. What was that? What the hell was that?
##
Christine spent the next
few months trying to avoid Spock. But as time went on, she realized he was at
HQ less and less frequently. She settled again into her routine. During the day
she worked. At night or on weekends she spent time with friends, usually Sharon
or Uhura when she was in town. She avoided romantic relationships and found her
life settling into a dull but comfortable rut. After three years, she was
offered the position of Associate Director of Medical Operations for Research.
She took the job and absolutely loved it.
She heard news of Spock
from time to time. Uhura kept her up to date when she saw him. He appeared to
be involved with a Vulcan woman, a fellow officer. Her name was Valeris. The
first time she heard of the relationship, Christine felt sadness and anger. But
over time even that seemed to go away. Spock hadn't sought her out since his
visit so many years ago. He clearly had managed to put her memory to rest in
its proper place.
It was many days after Khitomer that she heard of Valeris' betrayal of Spock and
the Federation. This new position didn't offer her the same kind of access she'd
enjoyed in her former job so she had to wait for Uhura to return and give her
the real story. Christine expected to feel smug over Spock's pain, but she
didn't. She didn't seem to feel anything. Maybe she was finally over him.
Several months later,
Christine was enjoying her weekend, curled up on her couch with a book. She was
so engrossed in the story that the sound of the door chime made her jump. She
was shocked to see Spock standing there. Her heart raced and she felt excited
and irritated at the same time.
She wanted to be rude to
him but her own natural courtesy held her in check. "Captain Spock, what
can I do for you?"
He said the very last thing
she ever expected to hear from him again: "It is a private matter."
"What?"
"I said, it is a
private matter." He stood at her door waiting for her to invite him in.
She stared at him incredulously for several seconds before she moved aside and
let him enter.
He stood before her, the rigidity he'd displayed the last time she saw him
was gone. He seemed almost relaxed, comfortable with himself. He raised an
eyebrow at her. "If you do not wish to help me, I will understand."
Christine walked up to
him, stopping when they were nearly face to face. She could barely restrain
herself from shaking him as she hissed. "Couldn't you try to find someone
else?"
"I thought I had. She
turned out to be a traitor. I have no wish for further contact with her. Who
else would you suggest I try?"
Christine looked at him in
amazement. There was the barest hint of humor in his voice. He thought this was
funny? "You can try the Horta, for all I care."
"She is really not my
type."
Christine glared at him.
"Not your type?"
"No. Doctor Chapel, I
do not want to waste my remaining time. Do you wish to save me or shall I
prepare myself for death?"
That bastard! "You
can't tell me Vulcan doesn't have plans for this. There has to be at least one
other unbonded male out there."
"Indeed. But I will
not make it there in time."
She tried to find a way
out of this and failed utterly. He'd defeated her and she knew it. And worse he
knew it. "Fine," she said tightly. "When?"
"Now," he
replied calmly. "We should leave at once."
Now. At once. This could
not be happening. How could he just show up and force her to choose? She was a
healer for god's sake. She'd sworn to preserve life. "Now?"
"I was delayed in
arriving. I thought I would have more time."
She stared at him for a
long moment. "Fine," she said again. "Let me make some
calls."
While he waited for her,
she arranged for indefinite leave and then called the cousin who'd inherited
the cabin from her uncle. He'd been planning to use it, but when she managed to
convey to him, in the vaguest way possible, that this was urgent, he agreed to
let her have it. She packed some things and came out to where Spock sat
waiting.
"You don't have a
bag, Spock?"
"It is outside your
door. I did not want to appear that I had taken your acceptance of the
situation for granted." He opened the door and retrieved the travel bag.
Opening his communicator, he called Starfleet. "This is Captain Spock. Two
to beam to prearranged coordinates."
"Didn't want to take
that for granted either, huh?" She could feel her anger boiling. He'd
known she'd say yes. This was so wrong. But what else could she do?
They materialized just
outside of the cabin. She led him inside and inspected the larder. It appeared
that Jake had everything well stocked for his own time in the mountains. A good
thing, because if Spock wanted them to get here now, he must be very close.
There wouldn't be any time for shopping.
She turned to discover
that Spock wasn't in the room. She found him in the bedroom, making up the bed.
"Not wasting any
time, are you?"
He looked at her evenly.
"I decided to make myself useful while you assessed our supplies. Does
this bother you?"
"Everything about you
and this situation bothers me, Spock." There she'd said it. The honest
truth.
He moved toward her and
reached out a hand to her face. She tensed, expecting to feel the rush of
desire of last time. But all she felt were his fingers, warmer than a human's,
brushing her hair away from her eyes.
In confusion she said,
"I thought that this was a matter of some urgency."
He dropped his hand.
"It is. I must talk to you."
He walked out to the
living room. She followed him, completely at a loss.
He motioned her to join
him on the couch, and she blushed remembering all the things they'd done the
last time they shared this particular piece of furniture.
"I wish to speak of
many things, Christine. We still have some time before the burning. I believe
that this time will be best utilized by conversation. By 'hashing things out'
as I think is the saying."
"Hashing what things
out?"
"Us."
She laughed. It was a
hoarse, bitter sound. "Spock, there is no us and there never has been.
Never will be. We don't exist."
"We are here
now."
"A technicality. A
once every seven years aberration. Nothing more."
He seemed not at all
bothered by the vitriol in her voice. "I have thought much of our last
meeting. I have had cause to think on love and hate since my protégé betrayed
me."
"Your protégé? I
heard she was your lover?"
"She was not. Not yet
anyway."
"Yeah, I guess a
little thing like betraying the entire Federation kind of put a damper on your
wedding plans."
He shifted to face her.
"You have the right to be bitter. Do you know why I chose Valeris?"
Christine stared at him
angrily. "A wild guess? Because she's Vulcan?" She looked away in
disgust.
"Precisely." He
waited till she turned back before he continued. "I have spent my entire
life subjugating my human side. And I was never good enough no matter what I
did. Never Vulcan enough. But this perfectly logical and quintessentially
Vulcan woman cared for me. Looked up to me. I had pride in her. And because of
her esteem, I could have pride in myself."
"Pride goeth before a fall."
"Indeed. As I found
out." He seemed to gather his thoughts. "I do not wish to speak of
what was. I wish to speak of what is now. After Valeris' betrayal, I was not
myself. I found myself...hating her. It was a new emotion for me. I found it
overwhelming and sought my mother's counsel. Do you know what she told
me?"
Christine shook her head,
wondering where he was going with this.
"She told me that
hate and love are not opposites. They are just two faces to the same emotion.
Love is the good and hate is the bad reaction to a strongly held attachment to
someone. We love, then we hate, then we love, then we hate again. But we are
always intensely aware of the object of our attachment. That person still rules
our lives."
Like he ruled hers.
"You said you no
longer love me. You said you hate me. But if love and hate are the same thing,
one could infer that you love me as well as hate me. Or that you feel both, but
it is in fact only one emotion, just directed differently."
"Your logic is
obscene, Spock. Love can't be reduced to a science experiment or a math
equation."
"Here is another
example. My mother says that indifference is in fact the opposite of love.
Indifference allows no outpouring of emotion because one is not reacting at
all. Do you understand what I mean?"
She nodded bitterly.
"Indifference is what you've felt for me all these years."
"Yes, that is what I
thought too. But it is not true." He leaned forward, gesturing toward the
couch. "I can tell you everything that we did on this couch, every
expression you wore, every sound you made, every sensation I experienced. I can
tell you what your desire felt like, or the exact number of times you told me
you loved me."
"You're Vulcan, it's
your nature to catalog, to be precise."
"Perhaps I am not
making myself clear. I can feel all those things. Even after nearly a
decade, I could describe every moment of our passion, in this room, in the
bedroom, everything. I have never been able to push it to the back of my mind,
and I have tried. Even immediately after the fal-tor-pan,
the memory of you was one of those foremost in my mind. I could not reconcile
it with other memories I had of you. It was so different, so vivid. I believe
the memory of this time colored everything. Even with Valeris, though I loved
her in a way, I did not feel what I do when I think of our time together."
"You're saying you love
me?" At this she laughed outright.
"I am saying,"
he said more loudly, "that if the burning had come upon me when I was with
Valeris, I believe that I would have rejected her. That my body and my memories
would have led me to find and join with you instead. I am not indifferent to
you. I am so far from indifferent to you as to be the opposite. The opposite of
indifference is...?"
"Love."
Christine sat stunned. A part of her wanted to believe what he was saying,
wanted to think that he did love her. But another part warned her against
allowing herself to hope again.
"Yes. Love. Logically
it is true. Emotionally it is true. You have always known it. I did not see it
because I did not want a human wife. But now I understand. We were meant to be
together. I love you."
She looked at him in
dismay. This was everything that she'd ever wanted. Spock saying
he loved her. Why did it have to be now, when he could say or do anything and
not even know his own motivation? She ignored her hopes and dreams and her
traitorous heart that only wanted him, and let her intellect rule.
"It's the burning,
Spock. You don't know what you're saying. I'm going to the bedroom. Come in
when you're ready."
She rose and headed for
the other room.
"Christine, I am not
going through Pon Farr. It is approximately six
months away. I know exactly what I am saying."
She didn't turn around. He
could not have said what she thought he just said.
"Christine, I am not
suffering the Pon Farr."
She turned around.
"But you said—"
"I said the only
thing I could think of that would make you agree to spend time with me. In a
place where no one would disturb us. Where we would be free of work and other
duties."
She slowly turned and
headed back to the couch. Sinking into the cushions she looked at him in
confusion. "You lied?"
"I obscured the
truth."
"Same
difference."
He sat quietly next to her
as she processed what had just happened.
Finally she spoke. "So what
now?"
He sighed, as if in
relief. "I would like to get to know you better. I have two experiences of
you. One is doing my utmost to avoid you; the other is quite the opposite. In
neither case did I get an understanding of what you were like on a normal day,
doing everyday things. And you, for all the love I know that you carry for me, really
do not know me at all. We should take the time to get to know one another."
He wanted to date? She felt
frozen, still in shock. She looked over at him. He sat calmly, awaiting her
reaction. Suddenly the anger she'd been containing broke free.
"You lie to me. You
make me leave my job, and kick my cousin out of his retreat, and you make me
think you're dying and all so we can get to know each other? I have
responsibilities, you arrogant son of a bitch! I have friends who'll wonder
where I am. I have a life that you have no right to interrupt!"
"I know these things.
I too have reasons that I should not be here. But perhaps this is more
important than all those other things. Perhaps we are meant to be here right
now at this crossroads where you decide whether to stay or go." He reached
for her hands and took them gently in his own. "Christine, you have
managed to love me all this time. My indifference could not kill your love, my
rejection and abandonment could not kill it. You love with a steadfastness that
I am in awe of. You love thinking all the while that you will never have what
you want. I should like to learn about the woman who can do that. I should like
that woman to learn that the man she loves is worth the trouble. Our work can
wait. Our friends will be fine. This is about us, and a chance for unity that
may never come again."
"What are you
proposing?"
He rose from the couch and
held out his hand. "I think we should sit outside, where there are no
memories. We should talk. We should discover. Will you do that,
Christine?"
She hesitated as her eyes
met and held his. She tried to read his emotions but she couldn't. As if he
understood what she was doing, Spock relaxed his expression. Suddenly she could
see affection and humor laced with his recent pain and a little bit of fear.
She couldn't resist what she saw. Her hand was in his before she even realized
she was reaching out to him. He pulled her from the couch and they headed
outside.
##
Christine and Spock sat
side by side on the porch, only their shoulders touched as they dangled their
feet off the side. They'd been talking for hours. Taking turns asking and
answering questions. Once she realized he was quite serious about them getting
to know each other, Christine had relaxed and asked him the things she'd always
wanted to know. Now, many hours later, she relaxed, words temporarily
exhausted.
She looked over at Spock
and was surprised to see him studying her. "What?" she asked, a
little self consciously.
"I was admiring your
physical appearance. You are beautiful."
Christine felt a flush of
pleasure. "Thank you."
"One does not thank
eyes for seeing the truth, nor lips for speaking it."
She shot him a startled
glance. "That was quite...poetic, Spock."
He seemed very pleased
with himself as they settled back into silence. A rumble of thunder made
Christine look up. It was too dark to see how close the storm was.
"We need to get
inside. These storms move quickly. Not good to be out in one."
They went inside and Spock
began to close the windows but Christine stopped him. "Something else you
need to know about me: I like storms."
"Yes, I
remember." His tone was so warm Christine felt herself blushing again.
She moved to the window
and stood there, enjoying the crisp ozone feel of the air. The first streak of
lightning struck nearby. Spock came up behind her. She could feel the warmth of
his body as he stood very close to her. His breath was hot on her neck.
"I have never watched
a storm," he murmured.
"Never?"
"Of
course I have for scientific reasons. But never for pleasure. I will
watch with you, unless you object?" He snaked a hand around her waist as played
with her hair with the other. "Do you object, Christine?"
She felt as though her
knees would give out. Just being this close to him had a profound effect. She
fought to keep her voice steady as she leaned back into him and felt his arm
tighten. "I don't object."
They were silent then,
watching the lightning. Spock's hands were never still but he did nothing that
would completely distract her from the storm. She didn't know which was louder,
her raging heart or the thunder. Suddenly lightning flashed above them,
followed directly by a tremendous crack of thunder. They both jumped.
Spock's voice was ragged
as he spoke into her ear. "Storms arouse you, Christine."
"This storm
does."
He had both arms wrapped
around her now, capturing and pinning her against him. She felt his strength
and it only excited her more.
His lips found her neck,
her shoulders, her ears. "Your arousal stimulates me. I find that I can
think of only one thing."
She pulled against him and
felt his arms loosen. Turning to face him, she studied his face. Then, despite
some lingering fear that this wasn't real—couldn't be real—she gently began to
kiss him. She felt him shudder against her.
"I love you,
Spock."
She had to wait, but only
for a second. "I love you, my Christine."
As the thunder crashed
around them, Spock pulled her back to the couch. "I feel your desire,
Christine. You must feel mine." As his fingers found the meld points, and
his mind touched hers, Christine felt everything he was feeling. His pain, his
loneliness, his uncertainty, his friendships, and his love...for her. His
feelings for her were chaotic and undisciplined, but strong and undeniable.
Like the storm outside, he told her mind to mind. You make me like that.
Christine laughed in
delight as she let go of the last of her fear. Their bodies, so well matched,
found the blissful rhythm she remembered from last time, and then surpassed it.
Between the meld and the physical union, she'd never felt more complete.
Spock's mind answered her
thought. Nor have I, my love. Nor have I.
As they again reclaimed
the pleasure they had once known, lightning lit the scene for two lovers,
together at last.
FIN