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)
2013 by Djinn. This story is Rated R.
Howzabout We Forget Last Night?
by Djinn
Chapel
saw Spock walk out of the lift and turned on her heel, hurrying to get around
the corner before he saw her.
She
thought she heard him call, ÒDoctor Chapel,Ó but kept going, finally slamming
her palm on the door of her quarters and rushing inside.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
ÒPlease
just go away,Ó she said over and over until the chime on her door went off and
put an end to that pipedream.
He
didnÕt know she was in here, did he?
She might have gone to the lab.
ÒCommander
Spock requests access, Doctor Chapel,Ó the room controller said, sounding far
too loud—could he hear through the door?
ÒHas
Commander Spock inquired as to my location?Ó she whispered.
ÒPlease
restate command at appropriate volume.Ó
Screw
this. She walked to the door and
slammed her palm on the opener.
ÒWhat?Ó
Spock
looked uncomfortable. ÒI wish to
talk.Ó
ÒAnd
I donÕt.Ó
He
took a deep breath. A deep audible breath. ÒChristine, please let me in.Ó
ÒSo
we can have sex again and you can tell me how unresponsive I am?Ó
He
looked both ways down the corridor, as if checking to see if anyone might have
heard her. ÒYou implied I was
unskilled.Ó
ÒNo,
I stated it. Out and out declared
it. You reek in bed.Ó She tried to close the door.
He
held it open, then his attention was caught by
something near the lift. ÒDoctor
McCoy is headed down the corridor toward us. Do you want him to hear us discussing
this?Ó
ÒNo,
I want you to go away so we can stop discussing this.Ó
He
stood like a stone. Finally, she
grabbed his arm and yanked him into her quarters, setting the door to privacy
once it had closed.
She
walked into the main room and took the desk chair, forcing him to choose the
bed or stand—he chose the bed.
ÒSo?Ó
ÒSo,
I regret what I said.Ó
ÒLet
me guess? YouÕre still suffering
from post-VÕger horniness and you want to get your
rocks off again with me, the frigid bitch.Ó
ÒI
did not call you that.Ó
ÒIf
you were fully human, you would have.
I might have preferred it to your overly detailed account of my
shortcomings.Ó
ÒI
have had sexual relations before.
My partners were satisfied.Ó
ÒThey
were faking, Spock. F-A-K-I-N-G
faking.Ó She leaned back in her
chair. ÒOr are you going to tell me
you felt their orgasm with your handy dandy telepathic skills?Ó She dared him to tell her that. HeÕd been so lost in his own pleasure
last night he hadnÕt even noticed she was left high and dry—well, not
dry, exactly but—crap what did it matter? Fat lot of good telepathy was if
horniness made it go on the fritz.
ÒAnd
you do not fake. You made that
quite clear last night.Ó
She
sighed. ÒIf itÕs not there, itÕs
not there. IÕll note, however, that
I think last night it could have been there if you had paid the least bit of
attention to me. And why did you
pull my hand away when I decided to give myself a ride home?Ó
ÒIt
is unseemly for a—Ó
She
stood, moved closer to him, and struck her finger against his chest. ÒWhat is unseemly is a guy who doesnÕt
take any time to get his lover off.
I use the word lover ironically.
How about sex partner?Ó How
about goddamn whore? That was what
sheÕd felt like last night. Not
that she knew what they felt like—but she was projecting.
ÒAnd
I am sure Doctor Korby was a skilled lover who pleased you in every way.Ó
She
closed her eyes.
ÒAh. He was not. So two unskilled
lovers or one unresponsive woman?
OccamÕs razor says the simplest—Ó
ÒI
know what it says. And you know
what, the simple fact is that men are asses sometimes, never more so than when
the little brain is driving.Ó Although
in SpockÕs case it was not that little.
SheÕd have bet money it alone could have brought on some happy
feelings. SheÕd have lost big. ÒAnd Roger was not my only lover. Trust me. I know what a good orgasm feels like.Ó Or any orgasm. Even a missed one would have been
preferable to last night.
He
stood and pushed her out of the way.
ÒI wanted to tell you I was sorry for the way the evening ended.Ó
ÒBut
now you donÕt want to tell me that?Ó
ÒI
do not. This is not all my fault.Ó
ÒMeaning...?Ó
He
walked toward the viewscreen, clasped his hands
behind his back, and said softly.
ÒYou do not trust me. I
could feel that every time I touched you.
I finally invoked a Vulcan discipline to limit the telepathic input.Ó
ÒSo
rather than work on getting me to trust you—and for the record it isnÕt
you I donÕt trust, itÕs your sudden interest in me—you just chose to
ignore it so you could have sex?Ó
ÒYour
talent for expressing my deficiencies in the most damning manner possible is
impressive.Ó
ÒHey,
when you have good material to work with, itÕs not hard to do. And answer the damn question. Why not work on trust? Or do you see this having a limited shelf
life and just wanted to get inside me while the urge was strong?Ó
He
turned and looked at her. ÒYou can
be extremely unpleasant.Ó
ÒWow,
nice way to answer the question, Spock.
Thanks. Now get the hell
out.Ó
He
did not say, ÒWith pleasure,Ó but the way he strode out of her quarters pretty
much said it for him.
She
leaned against he door and told herself not to get mad, not to let him ruin
another evening. Her pep talk
failed utterly.
##
Chapel
joined the landing party on the transporter pad. SheÕd waited until the last possible
minute, sure that Spock would tell Jim to find another doctor for the mission.
ÒChris,
nice of you to join us,Ó Jim said softly as she passed him, giving her a look
that basically said, ÒWhat the fuck?Ó
ÒSorry. Forgot something.Ó As lies went, it wasnÕt a bad one.
Spock
met her eyes. ÒDoctor.Ó
ÒCommander.Ó She took her place, and Jim said,
ÒEnergize.Ó
They
materialized on a dry world, the wind blowing sand at them as Jim waved the
team into action, surveying and tagging anything of interest.
Chapel didnÕt have a specific task, other than standing around being a doctor,
so she began to take samples of the immediate area to stave off the boredom.
She
sensed rather than heard Spock come up behind her. ÒI figured youÕd ask for me to be taken
off this assignment.Ó
ÒWhy
would I do that?Ó
Shit. Jim, not
Spock. She turned and gave
him the kind of smile that she hoped conveyed, ÒIÕm joking. IÕm completely joking.Ó
He didnÕt look convinced.
She
laughed and asked, ÒDonÕt you like to take Len to all these garden spots?Ó She made sure her smile went all the way
to her eyes—something sheÕd perfected when sheÕd been applying to RogerÕs
program in grad school, standing in front of her bathroom mirror in the nights
before her meeting with him making sure her smiles looked real.
Jim
made the face that usually meant he was disappointed in something sheÕd
said. ÒHeÕs been off his game
lately. You the reason?Ó
ÒHe? He who? Len?Ó She shrugged, which was probably
overkill.
Jim
rolled his eyes. ÒYou donÕt
misdirect any better now than you did on Earth. I donÕt know why you think IÕll
constantly fall for your little wiles.Ó
He looked over at Spock, shielding his eyes with his hands. ÒHeÕs upset. He seemed to be pursuing you and
suddenly heÕs not. YouÕre my
friend. HeÕs my friend. HeÕs upset. YouÕre talking about being taken off
landing parties. You see my
dilemma?Ó
ÒNot
really.Ó She gave him a patently
fake smile and walked away.
He
caught up with her in two strides.
ÒChris, damn it all.Ó
She
looked back; Spock was watching them.
Was he worried what she might tell Jim? She might not have enjoyed her little
interlude with him, but she was sure as shit not going to tell his best friend
that he lacked in the lovemaking department.
She
put a hand on JimÕs shoulder, gave him her best Òthis is going to hurt, but
itÕs for your own goodÓ look, and said as firmly as she could, ÒLeave it
alone.Ó
ÒFine. For now.Ó He slipped out from under her hand and
walked away.
Spock
was still watching her. She gave
him an angry ÒWhat?Ó look until he turned around.
Jesus. And people thought she was needy?
##
She
had just washed the dust of the planet off and was deciding what clothes to put
on before going to grab some chow when her chime went off.
And
off
And off.
She
strode to the door and slapped it open.
It was, of course, Spock.
ÒReally?Ó She walked away and he followed her
in. ÒIÕm about to get dressed.Ó
ÒDo
not bother. I wish you to show me
what you would have preferred I do in bed.Ó
She
turned to look at him. He did not
have on his ÒI am with Jim therefore I must bullshit my way out of this
situationÓ look. ÒWhat did you say?Ó
ÒI
want to know how you like to be pleased.Ó
ÒWhy? I wasnÕt planning on repeating the
experience, so itÕs a moot point.Ó
ÒIf
you had enjoyed it, would you want to do it again?Ó
ÒThe
question is illogical.Ó She pushed
hangers around, trying to look busy.
What the hell?
ÒIt
is not illogical. You were shut
down from the moment we started despite the interest I had showed in you after
my meld with VÕger. You came to me the other night,
Christine. You were the one who
initiated this.Ó
ÒYes,
and that was very stupid of me.Ó
ÒBut
that is my point.Ó At her glare he
hurried to say, ÒNot that you are stupid.
But that you were of two minds. You wanted me, but you were afraid as
well. Why were you afraid?Ó
She
stared at him. He stared back. She realized trying to make him
uncomfortable enough to leave was a losing proposition.
ÒChristine,
why were you shut down?Ó
She
abandoned the closet, walked past him to where she kept her makeshift bar, and
poured herself a good stiff drink.
ÒScotch?Ó
ÒNo. An answer would be preferable.Ó
She
downed the drink and then said, ÒI took advantage of you—of your
openness. And how likely were you
to stay interested in me, huh?Ó
ÒI
do not know. But it is the nature
of Vulcans to be faithful to their mates.Ó
ÒWe
were having sex, not mating.Ó
He
did not seem to have an answer for that so she turned to look at him.
ÒWhat
do you care? Is it just wounded male
pride? DonÕt worry, I havenÕt said
anything to anyone.Ó
He
moved closer. ÒI...I wish to have a
do-over.Ó
ÒA
what now? You did not just say
do-over.Ó
ÒJim
says it all the time. I find it
appropriate to the situation.Ó
ÒNo.Ó She poured herself another
drink—did she have any antitox left? She wasnÕt sure so she sipped
slowly. ÒHereÕs my do-over,
Spock. I donÕt go to your quarters. I donÕt say I want to sleep with
you. You donÕt say yes. And we donÕt disappoint each other.Ó If she closed her eyes, could she wish
him out of her quarters?
ÒBut
I have come to your quarters this time.Ó
He put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed gently. ÒI am asking you.Ó
ÒGo
ask someone else.Ó
ÒI
do not want to. And you want
me. I can tell.Ó
She
ducked away from him and his stupid ÒIÕm telepathic, ask me howÓ hands. ÒSure, now you can read me just
fine. Go away, Spock.Ó
He
studied her for a long moment, then nodded
slowly. ÒGood night, then.Ó
ÒNighty
night.Ó Her tone was as mocking as
she could make it. She felt a pang
of regret and crushed it ruthlessly into oblivion by finishing her drink and
pouring another.
But not before she checked to make sure she had some antitox
on hand, just in case she was needed in sickbay.
##
Chapel
sat in a cave with Spock, wondering why she couldnÕt have refused this
mission. It would have meant going
over his head to Jim, and she just couldnÕt do that to him, romantic sap that
she was.
Plus
she thought Spock knew that the mission was sure to appeal to her love of biochem and previous work sheÕd done on immune
systems. The people on this world,
although still in the equivalent of EarthÕs Middle
Ages, were remarkably healthy. This
mission was designed to find out why.
The fact that the Klingons had been nosing around the system was also
curious; Spock was scanning the mineral components of the planet while she took
care of the biochem aspect.
Normally
theyÕd have run the scans from the ship, and they had done some preliminary
ones, but there was something on the planet that was interfering with their
sensors. Spock was working to
identify it now.
ÒHave
you found anything?Ó he asked softly.
ÒIÕve
found a whole lot of healthy people.
Our flyover probes are getting me tons of data, but so far I donÕt see
anything all that unusual. I
foresee long hours in the lab studying this.Ó
He
pushed a tricorder at her. ÒWhat do
you make of this?Ó
ÒGeology
is not my specialty.Ó
ÒNevertheless,
the question stands.Ó
She
smiled and took the tricorder. The
combination of minerals was not one she was used to seeing. ÒWhat is this?Ó
ÒUncertain. A new element, perhaps?Ó
ÒOr
a chimera.Ó She reached for her
tricorder, and he leaned around her and grabbed it, then handed it to her. ÒLook. See these cells. I thought they were random mutations,
but what if theyÕre just like what weÕre seeing here with these ores?Ó
ÒThe
data the probes are collecting should help us determine what on this world is
contributing to the strange combinations.Ó
She
programmed in a few instructions for the ultra high-flying probes and then
leaned back. ÒMaybe once upon a
time someone terraformed this world, set it to be
this way? It could explain the
interference.Ó
ÒHow
do you explain the current state of the population?Ó
ÒHow
do you explain finding Terran Indians on a planet far
from earth? Maybe these people were
seeded just as the Indians were.Ó
ÒLogical.Ó He took her tricorder gently from her,
studied the readings. ÒIt may have
been a deliberate attempt to promote health, perhaps increase longevity.Ó
She
nodded. ÒThe mutated ores may be an
unexpected side effect, whether beneficial or not remains to be seen.Ó She realized they were having a
conversation: a nice conversation.
ÒSpock?Ó
ÒHmmm?Ó
ÒDid
you bring me down here to woo me with science?Ó
ÒThat
would be a misuse of my position.Ó
ÒNot
if I was the best qualified to partner you on this shindig.Ó She studied him. ÒAlso, that was not an answer.Ó
He kept working as if checking the progress of his probes was taxing.
ÒSpock? Really? Using science for personal gain?Ó
ÒAs
you said, I selected the most qualified officer.Ó
She
started to laugh. ÒYou have at
least three scientists on staff who are also qualified.Ó
ÒBut
less so than you. This was your
specialty when you worked with Korby.Ó
ÒAnd
how long ago was that?Ó
ÒAre
you saying you are no longer qualified?
I can request one of the three to come down if that is the case.Ó
She
started to laugh. ÒWow. IÕm damned if I do and damned if I
donÕt.Ó
ÒOnly
if you consider remaining on the planet doing fascinating work to be
damnation.Ó
ÒYou
left out the Ôwith youÕ part.Ó
ÒAh. My mistake.Ó He looked up from his tricorder.
She
could have sworn his eyes were sparkling.
ÒLet me guess. Your
imprecision is a side effect of the meld with VÕger?Ó
ÒExactly.Ó His lips ticked up, and she
laughed. ÒIt is good to hear you
laugh, Christine.Ó
ÒWell,
IÕm sure it rates higher than me berating you.Ó
ÒIndeed. But even without the comparative factor,
it is pleasant.Ó
She
laughed again. ÒHoly shit, youÕre
really working hard to make me smile, arenÕt you?Ó
ÒAs
part of our problem the other night was that I did not work hard enough, it is
fitting, is it not?Ó
She
wanted to give him a snotty retort but what he said was logical—and made
her feel good, too. ÒFine. ItÕs fitting.Ó
He
leaned in close and showed her the results he was getting. ÒI have never seen readings like these.Ó
ÒAs
geology is not my specialty, which we previously established, I think you just
want an excuse to be close to me.Ó
But she studied the readings.
They were strange.
ÒThat
would be a misuse of—Ó
ÒYeah,
yeah, yeah.Ó She tried to bite back
a smile as she read his results, then pointed to one
set of data in particular. ÒThis
may be useful for my work. Can you
get samples from a wider spread?Ó
He
looked vindicated. ÒOf course.Ó
She
tried to make her expression as disapproving as possible. Either she failed or he was a complete
masochist, because he seemed very happy with himself—and her.
##
Chapel
was working in the lab when Spock came in.
ÒI
sent you the results you wanted.Ó
ÒI
know. I said thank you in a message
back. Which you saw.Ó She started to laugh as he stood there;
apparently he had no answer ready for her calling bullshit on him so quickly in
whatever kind of wooing attempt this was going to be.
ÒI
thought you might have questions.Ó
Wow. Weak. ÒNope. But if I do, I know where to find
you.Ó
He
nodded and began to walk around the lab, straightening things up like her grandmother
used to when a houseguest moved the coaster a millimeter. Sometimes she missed her
grandma—should she thank Spock for making her think of her?
ÒI
have not asked Jim for advice on how to pursue you.Ó
ÒAnd
can I say ÔYayÕ to that, Spock?Ó
She refused to look up from her scope to see what kind of expression he
was sporting.
ÒYou
and he are close now?Ó
ÒYep.Ó
ÒBut
you were not before he was stationed on Earth?Ó
ÒNope.Ó Or was that technically a double
negative she should answer with a yes?
Oh well, heÕd get it. Maybe.
ÒHow
close are you?Ó
ÒQuite.Ó She was just being mean at this point,
but if he wanted to know if she and Jim were lovers, heÕd have to come out and
ask it pointblank.
ÒWere
you lovers?Ó
Wow. Points for Spock for
taking the direct approach much sooner than sheÕd have called it.
She
finally looked up at him. ÒNo. We werenÕt. Spock, what is this?Ó
ÒYou
know what this is. I told you what
this was when I came to your quarters.Ó
ÒAhhh, the big do-over scenario.Ó She cocked her head to the side and
studied him. ÒAnd you think that
the only reason I wouldnÕt want to repeat the experience is because thereÕs
someone else.Ó
He
shook his head. ÒYou would not have
come to me if you were with someone else.
I believe you would be faithful.Ó
ÒI
came on to you when I was looking for Roger.Ó
ÒBut
you were under the effects of the virus.
I give you a—pass? Is
that not how you would say it?Ó
ÒYou
damn well know it is. YouÕve been
around Jim and Len long enough to know.Ó
She sighed. ÒOkay, thanks
for the pass. I do tend to be
faithful. So, no, thereÕs no one
else. And no I did not sleep with
Jim on Earth and now that weÕre on the ship have had to give him up.Ó
ÒGood.Ó
ÒGood?Ó
ÒI
would not want to have to compete with him for you.Ó
ÒYouÕre
not even competing with yourself for me, Spock.Ó She closed her eyes. ÒCan you go get me some food if youÕre
going to loiter here?Ó
ÒI
can. What would you like?Ó
ÒIf
I say a rare steak, youÕll go get that for me?Ó
ÒYes. I will detest every moment of it, but I
will.Ó
ÒGood
to know. I actually just want some
pie. I skipped it at dinner and now
I want some.Ó
ÒPie?Ó
ÒYep. Key lime. And some coffee. Milk and sugar.Ó
ÒVery
well.Ó He abandoned the cubby he
was tidying up and walked out.
And
was back not too long later with a really large piece of pie and coffee, with
milk and sugar on the side—clearly he didnÕt want to chance getting the
amounts wrong.
ÒYou
planning on sharing this pie with me, cowboy?Ó
ÒI
am not. I was not sure how hungry
for it you were.Ó
She
started to laugh. ÒUhh, probably not this hungry. But A for effort.Ó
He
looked pleased. ÒI will leave you
to your work. And your pie.Ó
ÒAlrighty.Ó She
took a bite of the pie. ÒOh, so
good.Ó He deserved more than just a
hypothetical A for this so she grinned at him, very warmly. ÒThank you.Ó
ÒYou
are welcome.Ó He turned and left
her, obviously getting the hang of quitting while he was ahead.
##
She
was sitting down to breakfast the next day when Jim came in and saw her. Smiling, he walked over with his
tray. ÒThis seat taken?Ó
ÒSit. Please.Ó She surveyed his choice of
breakfast. ÒDieting?Ó
ÒIÕve
overindulged for three nights straight.Ó
ÒKey
lime pie?Ó
He
laughed. ÒNo, beer and chips.Ó
ÒWhat happened to scotch?Ó
ÒIÕve
been having socials with different parts of the crew. Most of them seem to prefer beer.Ó
ÒItÕs
easier on the credit line than single malt, my love.Ó She laughed as he got an ÒOh, shit, of
courseÓ look. HeÕd forgotten what
it was like to live on the salary of the lowly. She knew. Her title might be grand, but her pay
was still that of a lieutenant.
He
leaned in. ÒSpeaking of love,
whatever youÕre doing to make Spock a happy camper, keep it up.Ó
ÒI
take it his chess gameÕs improved?Ó
Jim
nodded and smiled, all while eyeing the bacon on her plate.
ÒOh
for GodÕs sake, take some. You know
plain oatmeal is not going to cut it for taste. Live a little, put some maple syrup on
it.Ó
ÒOr
just give up and order the cheese grits.
Bones programmed his own recipe into the synthesizer.Ó
She
made a face. ÒIÕll never be an
honorary southerner. DonÕt like
pecan pie and canÕt abide grits.Ó
ÒYour
loss. And really? No pecan pie?Ó He said it the southern way, with a long
E and the stress on the first syllable, making her laugh at his sudden down
hominess.
ÒItÕs
too sweet.Ó
ÒThatÕs
what the whipped cream is for.
Unsweetened, anyway. ItÕs
the same premise as milk cutting the sugar in cookies.Ó
ÒI
get the idea. I just donÕt like it even
so.Ó
ÒI
saw Spock with a big plate of key lime pie a few nights ago. Was that for you?Ó
She
shrugged.
ÒUh
huh.Ó He grinned and took another
piece of her bacon, chomping happily.
ÒAfter losing him to Gol, IÕd like to see him
happy and...settled. So lock that down, will you?Ó
ÒMe? What makes you think that I could make
him happy or that I want to be settled with him?Ó
He
laughed and reached for her last piece of bacon.
She
snatched it away. ÒNo. Go get us more.Ó
ÒBones
took it off my privileges.Ó
ÒAre
you kidding me?Ó She scowled at
him. ÒDid you sit here just so IÕd
get you bacon?Ó
ÒNo,
thatÕs a happy fringe benefit of sitting with you. Now go get us more. Not quite so crisp this time.Ó
ÒJesus. Whose bacon is this anyway?Ó
ÒSu
tocino es mi tocino.Ó
ÒHa
ha.Ó She
got up and walked to the synthesizer, ordering a double order of bacon,
slightly less crisp, and a piece of pecan pie for good measure.
He
started to laugh when she put it down in front of him. ÒUnsweetened whip cream?Ó
ÒAs
per your order. You really going to
eat it?Ó
ÒHell,
yes. Some of it
anyway. How sick am I going
to feel later if I only eat bacon and pecan pie for breakfast?Ó
ÒEat
the oatmeal, too. ItÕll coat your
stomach. Plus being the only thing
on your side of the table thatÕs actually good for you.Ó
ÒOfficer
thinking, Chris.Ó He ate his real
breakfast first. Then he had a few bites
of pie and put the rest back on his tray.
ÒGood but not good for me.Ó
ÒWow,
look at you. Mister Willpower.Ó
ÒIÕve
got a hot date when we get to Earth.Ó
ÒNot
Lori?Ó
ÒHell,
no. ThatÕs long done. You remember Areel
Shaw?Ó
She
smiled. ÒI heard about that kiss on
the bridge. If you ever catch me in
a compromising position, IÕm going to bring that up.Ó
ÒWhat? One kiss.Ó
ÒOne
long, passionate kiss.Ó
ÒNyota
needs to keep stuff to herself.Ó
ÒWasnÕt
Ny who told me.Ó
She winked at him. ÒAnd no
power on this Earth—err ship—is going to get me to tell you who did
spill the beans.Ó
He
held his mug up to her. ÒTo memories. Good ones and those not made yet.Ó
She
smiled and clinked her mug against his.
##
Spock
turned up in sickbay later in the day.
He timed it perfectly; Len had just left with Jim for dinner. He stood in her doorway, watching her
work, until she finally said, ÒAnd you want...what now?Ó
His
lips ticked up. If sheÕd only known
all those years ago that she just needed to treat him like shit to get him on
the hook, her life would have been so much simpler. Men.
ÒI
want you, Christine. But failing a do-over, would you like to
have dinner with me when we are on Earth?Ó
ÒWhere?Ó
ÒI
have heard Paris is romantic.Ó
ÒYep,
it is. I somehow doubt it would be
with you, however.Ó She met his
eyes, wondering what heÕd hit back with to return that insult.
ÒWhat
if I told you I would make it so?
Would you be intrigued enough to risk spending time in my presence?Ó
ÒDunno. IÕve
seen no evidence that romance is even in your vocabulary. IÕm a little startled to hear it now.Ó
He
moved into her office. ÒGive us
privacy, Christine.Ó
She
was curious what his next big play would be so she did what he asked—well,
ordered was probably more accurate—and the door notice changed to busy
and her window screens darkened.
He
walked to her desk and sat down on it, sitting between her legs, facing
her. Then he slowly reached out,
letting his fingers roam—dance, really—down her cheek, across her
lips, down her neck.
She
didnÕt mean to, but she let out an aroused groan.
ÒPerhaps
I have been enlarging my vocabulary, Christine.Ó
ÒThis
is not romance. This is seduction.Ó
That
seemed to make him think. He
studied her, then reached down and took her hand, holding it lightly in
his. ÒPlease come to Paris with me,
Christine. It would make me
happy.Ó
ÒWow,
you didnÕt even trip over Ôhappy.ÕÓ
She pushed his uniform sleeve up with the hand not being held by
him. ÒYou breaking out in hives yet?Ó
ÒHas
it occurred to you that you are the one lacking in romance?Ó His voice held a note of amusement sheÕd
never heard from him before.
ÒWell,
IÕm just a little stunned, thatÕs all.Ó
She squeezed his hand.
ÒSpock, IÕm willing to admit that a good portion of our disastrous
encounter was my fault. I shut
down. I got nervous. I couldnÕt relax. Take your pick. IÕm letting you off the hook. You can give up this Ôget Christine to
fuck me againÕ campaign.Ó
ÒThat
is not the campaign I am on.Ó
ÒYes,
it is.Ó
ÒIt
was. Now...Ó He let go of her hand, took her
face in a gentle hold, and kissed her.
A long kiss. A tender kiss. A kiss that if sheÕd
been standing would have made her weak in the knees.
ÒNow?Ó
she managed to get out.
ÒNow
my campaign would be more aptly named, ÔGet Christine
to make love to me.ÕÓ His lips
ticked up infinitesimally, and he laid his hand on her cheek for a moment. ÒParis, then?Ó
She
nodded. She didnÕt mean to nod, but
it happened quickly and unequivocally.
And once sheÕd done it, she didnÕt want to take it back.
ÒExcellent.Ó He got up and left.
The
man was really getting the hang of the dramatically strategic exit. Holy shit.
She
sat like a sappy ass fool for quite a few moments before she could finally get
back to work.
##
ÒCome
to the rec lounge with me,Ó Jim said, poking his head in her doorway and making
her laugh with his silly faces. ÒI
need to work on my witty repartee for Areel.Ó
ÒWow,
donÕt I feel special?Ó She let her
tone dip into the miffed zone but was already turning her terminal off, so she
didnÕt think he was taking it too seriously. ÒAre you nervous?Ó
ÒHell,
yes. HavenÕt seen her in
years—she got married after she tried to court-martial me—and I may
be a little off my game after Lori.Ó
ÒDidnÕt
you hook up with Areel after she tried to court-martial
you?Ó
ÒYour
point?Ó
ÒWell
she really got married after that, not after the court-martial attempt.Ó
ÒYouÕre
not helping my self-esteem, Chapel.
ItÕs bad enough that two of the people I was mentoring chose to go off
with aliens rather than hang with me.Ó
ÒI
donÕt think you can count the guy you stole a ship from as your mentee anymore.
IÕll give you Garrovick, though. But SuluÕs still on the ship. So really youÕre batting five hundred,
which I now know is actually quite good, since you insisted we go to a baseball
game and then regaled me with boring stats.Ó
ÒNot
just quite good. Damn near
impossible. Were you not even
listening?Ó He winked at her. ÒCome on. DonÕt you want to practice for Paris?Ó
ÒHe
told you?Ó
ÒOh,
yeah?Ó
ÒDid
he ask you for helpful tips?Ó
ÒOnly
on the restaurant.Ó He grinned at
her. ÒItÕs my experience that when
Spock really wants something, he tends to just go after it, not tell me much
about it.Ó
ÒWitness
the times he commandeered the ship with you all, ÔWell, golly.ÕÓ
ÒGod,
youÕre a bitch today.Ó But he was
laughing, and she knew it was because bitch or not, she was right. ÒCome on, woman.Ó
She
followed him out of sickbay and to the rec lounge. He didnÕt want to sit at the bar, chose
couches off by themselves.
ÒYouÕre
serious about practicing, arenÕt you?Ó
ÒNo,
IÕm just tired. And you relax
me. Being Ôon,Õ after all the crew socials
IÕve had, is a bridge too far tonight.Ó
ÒPoor
Jim. Drinks are on me. You want your usual?Ó
ÒYep.Ó He had his eyes closed.
She
walked to the bar, ordered his regular scotch and an old fashioned for herself. She stopped to talk to Len for a moment,
to give him an update on Ensign ThÕlka, who was in
isolation in sickbay with Darlevian Syndrome and was
showing signs of improvement finally.
Len
ran a hand through his hair. ÒI
hope weÕre out of the woods with him.
His system is just so different than a humanÕs. I didnÕt think Narissians
could get Darlevian. But theyÕre so new to the Federation and
Starfleet, I guess weÕre still learning.Ó
ÒI
guess so. Get some sleep, Len. You look beat. IÕll see that he gets transferred to
Starfleet Medical tomorrow. I know
you have happy times planned with one of your ladies in Savannah.Ó
His
look grew wistful with some combination of lustful thrown in, and she wondered,
not for the first time, what heÕd left behind to rejoin JimÕs crew for good
after VÕger.
ÒThat I do. Thanks,
Christine.Ó
She
held up the drinks. ÒLet me get
this scotch to our fearless leader before he thinks I deserted him.Ó
ÒYou
know, if I didnÕt see Spock hounding your every move—and know that Jim
was catching up with the lovely Ms. Shaw on Earth—IÕd think the two of
you were involved.Ó
ÒJust
friends. And Spock isnÕt hounding
my every move. I donÕt see him in
here.Ó
ÒYouÕve
got me there.Ó Len motioned off
toward Jim. ÒGo. Enjoy. Thanks for taking care of ThÕlka.Ó He
looked more sorry for her than grateful.
She had not told him about Paris.
It would only add fuel to his crazy matchmaker ideas. So he probably thought she had no plans
for their brief stop on Earth.
Jim
looked up as she walked over. ÒThey
run out of—what the hell are you drinking?Ó
ÒOld
fashioned. My grandma used to drink
these. SheÕd make me one even
though I was underage. She
was...eccentric, I guess is the word.
Rules be damned.Ó
ÒSo
thatÕs where you learned it from. I
didnÕt even know we had rye on the ship.Ó
ÒWe
donÕt. I had them use a blended. ThereÕs bound to be some rye in there.Ó
He
smiled. ÒSmart girl.Ó He took a long sip of his drink. ÒDamn, I love this stuff. Is it bad how much I do?Ó
ÒNope. Since I do, too.Ó
He
grinned. ÒSo are you excited?Ó
ÒAbout
whiskey?Ó
He
gave her the fake laugh that always made her laugh. ÒAbout Paris?Ó
She
shrugged.
ÒHmmm. Normally youÕre full of smart-ass
answers. A shrug is actually a good
indication that you are.Ó
She
leaned back and smiled. ÒOnce he
has me, heÕll get tired of me.Ó Or
more accurately, once he successfully gave her a fun time in bed, heÕd be over
his quest to prove her wrong about his talents—or lack thereof—and
things would go back to normal.
ÒDonÕt
think so. How long has he been my
first officer? He could have been
captain of his own ship about five times by now.Ó He turned his head, met her eyes. ÒHe finds what he likes and he sticks
with it.Ó
ÒIf
you say so.Ó She took a sip of her
drink. Mmmm,
just like she remembered it.
##
Chapel
signed ThÕlka over to the med techs from Starfleet
Medical and patted his shoulder.
ÒYouÕre in good hands. You
get well and weÕll see you back here real soon.Ó
ÒThank
you, Doctor Chapel.Ó
ÒSend
us a vid of you doing physical therapy.
I know Doctor McCoy is as eager to see you on your feet as I am.Ó
ÒYes,
maÕam.Ó He lifted his hand as the
techs led his antigrav gurney out.
She
watched him till the door closed, then wrote up his final case notes, and
closed down her terminal. She
needed to get ready. Spock had said
the place was fancy. Only he had
said it less simply. The civilian
equivalent of mess dress, were his exact words.
She
decided to take him at his word, pulled out a dark red gown sheÕd bought for
the med school graduation banquet.
It was relatively modest, so she wouldnÕt look like she was trying too
hard, but hugged her body in a way that actually made her look curvy instead of
lanky.
Not
that such screening would work with Spock.
He had seen her naked, after all.
She
smoothed the dress over her hips.
The color was one of her favorites, not crimson, not brick, something in
between. A
subdued red. She left her
eyes relatively free of makeup, slicked on some dark red lipstick, and put her
hair up in a French twist. Some
sparkly earrings and she was done.
Her
chime rang, and she opened the door.
Spock stood for a moment not saying anything.
ÒEither
you like it or you hate it. Which
is it?Ó
ÒThe
former.Ó
ÒGood. Not that I care.Ó She checked him out. Pretty fancy robe he was sporting. ÒGot gussied up for me, too, I see.Ó
ÒAs
I said, it is a somewhat exclusive place.
You will need a wrap.Ó
She
grabbed a black shawl and followed him out of her quarters and to the
lift. They beamed directly down to
the Paris transporter hub and walked out.
SheÕd worn little ballerina flats under her dress in case they had to
walk far, but the hub Spock had chosen was right in front of the Eiffel Tower.
She
looked at him. ÒThere?Ó She knew there were a couple of
restaurants. They were hard to get
into, but more because everyone thought they should eat there than that they
were really good.
ÒHave
faith, Christine.Ó
ÒAn
odd saying coming from you.Ó
ÒNot
at all. I mean have faith in me,
not in a deity.Ó His almost smile
was firmly in place as he led her around to the side away from the crowds
waiting to go up.
They
were waved in by a security guard, who murmured, ÒCommander Spock.Ó
ÒHmmmm. I may be
impressed.Ó She smiled as they got
into a private elevator that sped them well past the levels the other two
restaurants took up. It opened and
they were in a lovely outdoor garden.
ÒOkay, now IÕm peeved. Jim
told you about this? He never took
me here.Ó
ÒIt
is possible I value you more than he does.Ó
ÒItÕs
possible that you want to get in my pants way more than he does.Ó
ÒHe
values you highly.Ó
ÒAre
you saying he does want into my pants?
Because youÕve been reading from the wrong script. Jim and I are buds and we both like it
that way.Ó
ÒAnd
I find that fortuitous. You will
blend easily into my life if you also get along with my best friend.Ó
ÒInto
your life? IÕm not even back into
your bed yet, Spock. Cart. Horse. There is an order that works, and an
order that doesnÕt.Ó She stopped
talking because the ma”tre dÕ came up and began to fawn all over them, which
she had to admit, was really nice.
Their
table was elegantly set and situated far from any other diners. Heaters were set up above them so it
didnÕt get too cold, and windscreens diverted the breeze. The view was amazing.
The
waiters were even more wonderful, hovering discreetly, meeting her and SpockÕs
every need practically before they knew they had one. There were no menus—Spock had
ordered for both of them, and she thought heÕd gotten tips from Jim on what she
liked because he scored with every course.
ÒYou
are winning big, big, big points with
this dinner, Spock.Ó She smiled,
for once keeping mockery out of it.
ÒThank you.Ó
ÒYou
are quite welcome. And it is my
pleasure.Ó He was looking at her so
fondly, she almost had to look away. ÒMy affection makes you uncomfortable?Ó
ÒIÕm
not used to it.Ó
He
nodded slowly, as if thinking hard before speaking. ÒI wanted you, Christine. After VÕger. I
was not sure how to approach you and then you approached me. I wanted you, but I did not know
you. I fear affection was missing
that night.Ó
ÒI
fear youÕre right.Ó
ÒI
will not rush you to bed again.Ó
ÒWell,
to be fair to you, I rushed you.
You were just minding your own business in your quarters when I...Ó She sighed and
looked down. ÒIÕm sorry if I was
mean.Ó
ÒYou
were hurt. Humans often become mean
when they are hurt. I saw it with
my mother and father.Ó
ÒYour
mom gets mean?Ó
He
nodded with such vehemence she started to laugh. ÒWhen she is not the master of the
silent treatment.Ó
ÒBut
Vulcans are used to silence, arenÕt they?Ó
ÒNot
silences so filled with hostility.Ó
ÒAh. Right. Never doubt the human femaleÕs ability
to fill empty space with ire.Ó
ÒIndeed.Ó
ÒWhat
did your father do to end the hostilities?Ó
ÒHe
is stubborn so it would take some time before he bowed to the inevitable and
said he was sorry. Taking the blame
was also a successful maneuver.Ó
She
laughed softly. ÒYes, we like
that. Even if you donÕt know what
you did wrong or if you did wrong,
take the blame and youÕll get back into our good graces—and into our
beds.Ó
ÒI
prefer to not imagine my parents in bed.Ó
ÒNo
one wants to imagine their parents in bed, Spock.Ó She held her hand out to him without
thinking, then started to pull it back, wondering what
the hell she thought he was going to do.
But
he reached out, stopped her retreat, and laid his hand over hers. ÒThank you for coming to dinner with me,
Christine.Ó
ÒThank
you for asking me.Ó
##
Chapel
got back to the ship and stopped in at sickbay to see what was going on. She found a message waiting in her queue
from ThÕlkaÕs doctor and smiled—was he walking
around already?
She
opened the note and her smile died.
ÒDoctor Chapel, previous custodian.
Patient Ensign Kerelka ThÕlka
died of cascade organ failure at 1900 tonight. Post-mortem showed complications from Darlevian Syndrome.
Impossible to foresee; Enterprise
staff did all possible given physiological information available on Narissians.
Test results will be added to medical norms for Narrisian
crew. We will inform next of kin.Ó
She
sat down heavily in her chair. SheÕd
lost plenty of patients when she was a nurse, but this was her first as a
doctor. He hadnÕt been just
hers—all the doctors had worked his case, but she and Len had spent so
much time with him.
Normally,
sheÕd walk into LenÕs office after a bad day, and heÕd pull out the bourbon and
pour them each one. On Earth,
during med school or when she was an intern, sheÕd have found Jim, and theyÕd
have drowned their sorrows in scotch.
But they were both off the ship.
So was Ny and Sulu and...
She
was up and moving out of sickbay before she consciously thought of where she
was going. ÒDeck five,Ó she told
the lift and it seemed extra speedy with so many personnel off the ship. She walked to SpockÕs door and rang the
chime.
He
didnÕt answer, and she thought he was probably meditating or maybe in the
lab. She was about to turn around
when the door opened and Spock stood studying her.
ÒI
lost a patient,Ó she whispered, knowing he could hear her just fine, but
needing to say it softly. She would
care for patients and then lose them.
She knew that. She just
hadnÕt thought sheÕd lose one this soon.
He
stood aside. ÒCome in.Ó
ÒNo. I need a drink. Come with me to the lounge.Ó
ÒI
have scotch in here.Ó At her look,
he smiled. A real
smile, even if small.
ÒSometimes Jim needs to...mourn the lost in a place no one will look for
him.Ó
She
nodded and let him draw her into his quarters. He pulled a bottle out from a cabinet,
filled a glass with two fingersÕ worth of amber liquid, and handed it to her.
She
downed half of it, recognized the velvet glide and later burn
of a Glenlivet. ÒThank you.Ó
He
moved around her, left her staring at the cabinet, as if he thought she might
prefer to talk without looking at him.
ÒI was not aware you had a patient you were worried about.Ó
ÒWe
transferred him to Starfleet Medical today. He seemed to be getting better. But he took a bad turn. There was...there was nothing we could
have done.Ó She sighed. ÒDonÕt worry. IÕm not going to cry.Ó
ÒIf
it helps, you may. I will not
mind.Ó
ÒIÕm
sorry. I know you wouldnÕt
mind. It just...it hurts.Ó She turned to look at him.
He
was sitting on the bed, and she went and sat next to him. He almost gingerly put his arm around
her, and she leaned into him, wrapping her arm around him.
She
took another drink, a sip this time.
ÒYouÕre missing out, Spock. Scotch will cure all your woes.Ó She held the glass out to him.
He
sipped it and handed it back. ÒWe
have a drink that tastes somewhat similar.
It is not intoxicating, but warms the throat the same way.Ó
ÒGotta love the burn.Ó
She sighed and closed her eyes.
ÒI
was not your first choice to come to, was I? Leonard or Jim would have been better
company. Uhura, perhaps?Ó
She
shrugged.
ÒIt
is all right. I am merely stating
fact.Ó
She
finished her drink. ÒAm I ruining
our evening?Ó
ÒNot
at all.Ó He took the glass from her
and put it on the nightstand, then eased her up with him so she was lying
against him, their heads on his pillows.
ÒWho was the patient?Ó
ÒEnsign
ThÕlka.
From engineering.Ó
ÒMister
Scott spoke of him. He had great
promise.Ó
ÒHe
was a nice man.Ó She turned and
buried her face in his robe, a different one than he had worn to dinner,
suffused with the scent of his incense.
He
wrapped his arms around her tightly and they lay in silence, until she finally
fell asleep.
She
woke in the morning; Spock had pulled the covers over them somehow, taken her
shoes off. She studied his face,
knew that he wasnÕt really sleeping.
ÒGood morning.Ó
He
opened his eyes, looked at her with such a gentle
expression it made her smile. ÒGood
morning.Ó
She
leaned in and kissed him softly, their lips barely opening. He stroked her hair.
ÒThank
you,Ó she whispered into his ear.
ÒThank you for taking care of me.Ó
ÒI
would like to.Ó He kissed her the
same way she had kissed him. ÒThink
of me first, Christine.Ó
ÒIn
time, I might.Ó She eased away from
him. ÒI have to go. I have to see if LenÕs back.Ó
ÒAll
right.Ó He lay back and watched her
put her shoes on. ÒDid I tell you
last night that you are beautiful?Ó
ÒNo.Ó
ÒThen
I was most remiss.Ó
She
smiled and touched his face for a moment before she left him to go find Len.
##
She
sat in the back at the memorial service for ThÕlka. Scotty and those closest to ThÕlka told moving stories or funny stories, and she
smiled, remembering the sweet young man sheÕd interacted with so briefly. Jim got up at the end, like he always
did, managing to pull facts out about ThÕlka from who
knows where, letting everyone know that no one lost, no matter how new, how
often or not they interacted with the senior staff, would ever be forgotten.
She
mingled for a little while, then Jim found her,
murmured, ÒIÕm tired. I need to get
out of here.Ó
ÒI
know about your secret stash.Ó
ÒGood,
then I donÕt need to hide it from you.Ó
He caught SpockÕs eyes, and they did their weird, long-distance mind-meld
thing, and then Spock was walking toward them, leading them without comment to
the lift. They followed him to his
quarters and Jim made a beeline to the cabinet with the scotch, poured himself
a drink, then looked at her.
ÒI
think IÕm going to pass tonight.
IÕve done my grieving.Ó
Jim
took the only chair, leaving the bed for her and Spock. ÒI barely knew him.Ó
ÒYou
sounded as if you did.Ó
ÒThatÕs what IÕm supposed to do, isnÕt it?Ó He threw back the drink. ÒThe kid barely had a chance to be an
officer. One of the NarissianÕs first cadets and heÕs lost from a damn disease
Starfleet didnÕt even think he could get.Ó
ÒI
know.Ó
SpockÕs
voice was very gentle as he said, ÒA life in Starfleet is never without risk,
Jim.Ó
ÒYou
think I donÕt know that?
Jesus.Ó
She
decided to get comfortable and kicked off her boots, then scooted back on the
bed, piling the pillows up behind her.
She studied Jim; something was off, more than just losing a crewman he
had barely known. ÒWhatÕs eating
you?Ó
ÒIÕm
just tired.Ó
Spock
got up and poured himself and her a glass of
water. Then he sat next to her, his
leg very close to hers. ÒAsk him
about Ms. Shaw.Ó
ÒJim?Ó
ÒDidnÕt
go well.Ó He glared at Spock.
ÒHow
come he knows and I donÕt?Ó
ÒHe
caught me coming back the next day.Ó
ÒIn
a very bad mood,Ó Spock said, with an expressive eyebrow punctuating the
statement.
ÒNot
the reunion you wanted, huh?Ó
He
drained his glass. ÒNope.Ó
ÒIÕm
sorry. I know you were excited to
see her.Ó
ÒYou
canÕt go back. You canÕt recapture
whatÕs lost.Ó
She
handed Spock her water, got up, walked over to Jim, and took his glass. She poured him another drink, a much more
generous one than what heÕd poured for himself, and handed it to him.
ÒThanks.Ó
ÒYouÕre
welcome.Ó She leaned down and
kissed his cheek. ÒAreelÕs an idiot, Jim.Ó She said it softly, but she knew Spock
could hear her. Then she reclaimed
her comfy spot on the bed next to Spock.
He
handed back her water, his expression gentle and untroubled, and she held up
her glass, saying, ÒTo the many ways love stinks.Ó
Jim
seemed to be looking at both of them when he lifted his glass. ÒAnd to the many ways it doesnÕt.Ó
##
Chapel
was sitting in the sun, enjoying the lush grass of the area they were
surveying. They were working in the
very small temperate zone, a combination of mountains and ocean making this one
of the only comfortably habitable areas on the planet.
Spock
managed to wander over her way quite often for someone who was supposed to be
cataloging things.
ÒWhat
are you doing, cowboy? This is your
fourth pass by the Chapel homestead.Ó
ÒI
am either interested in being near you or trying to ascertain if you are doing
something useful.Ó He lifted an
eyebrow in a Òyou decideÓ move.
She
laughed. ÒGood one. Guess IÕll get busy.Ó She started to get up.
He
shook his head and sat down next to her.
ÒIt is a pleasant place to sit.Ó
ÒIt
is. My grandmotherÕs back yard was
like this. My cousin and I used to
take a big blanket out and spend the summer talking about everything and
nothing. Boys, mostly, as we got
older.Ó She smiled at Spock. ÒDo Vulcan girls get boy crazy when they
hit puberty?Ó
ÒIt
is difficult if one is already bonded.
And for those who are not, they are limited to being interested in
similarly unbonded boys.Ó
ÒThatÕs
sad. I think being young and in
love is a good rite of passage.Ó
She leaned back on her elbows.
ÒWere you and TÕPring ever in love?Ó
ÒNo.Ó
ÒWow. No hesitation.Ó
ÒIt
is the truth. We were bonded when
we were children. We had no
choice.Ó
ÒDid
you ever want another girl, someone you werenÕt supposed to have?Ó
He
nodded.
She
sat up. ÒLeila?Ó
ÒYes,
once I left Vulcan, but before that, on Vulcan. There was an unbonded female I admired
greatly.Ó
ÒWhat
happened to her?Ó
ÒShe
married years later. Is a mother. A
grandmother by now, perhaps.Ó
ÒYou
donÕt keep track of her?Ó
ÒYou
mean the way Jim did of Ms. Shaw?
No. I believe he was
right. We cannot recreate the
past.Ó
ÒThen
why are you and I trying?Ó
ÒTechnically, we have no past to recreate other than small interactions and one
night that you did not enjoy. I
believe we are creating something new.
Something better, not trying to recapture anything.Ó
ÒGood
answer.Ó She wanted so badly to
close her eyes and just enjoy the sun.
ÒYou realize weÕre setting an incredibly shitty example just sitting
here?Ó
ÒI
do realize that. Are you ready to
work now?Ó
ÒSo
you indulged me with some personal stuff just to get me to work?Ó She laughed as she pushed herself to her
feet, then held her hand out to him, curious if he
would take it.
He
did, and she pulled him up. ÒYes,Ó
he said, Òthat is exactly why I sat with you. I had no interest in simply being near
you.Ó With another lift of the
eyebrows, he went back to work.
She
picked up her tricorder and made herself useful.
##
She
saw Jim eating alone in the mess.
It was an odd time, between shift meal breaks, and she was surprised to
see him there. Before she got her
meal, she stopped at his table.
ÒYou want company?Ó
ÒI
do. Get something good so I can
steal it.Ó He picked at his salad
as if to show her how sad it was.
ÒDid
Len block everything?Ó
ÒNo,
IÕm just trying to not gain weight like last time. I tend to eat when IÕm happy and work
out when IÕm not.Ó
ÒFine. IÕll get yummy stuff.Ó She left him and went and got the food,
bringing it back to his table.
He
looked over the bounty of many small plates.
She
pointed to the first one. ÒChicken
satay.Ó When his smile grew, she
went down the line. ÒPapri chaat. Samosas. Kadu bouranee. And
this aush is mine, so hands off the soup.Ó
ÒI
love aush.Ó
ÒWhat
part of hands off was unclear?Ó She
pushed the plates to the middle of the table, but hovered protectively over the
soup. Then she pulled back the kadu.
ÒWhat? Hands off all the Afghan items?Ó
She
laughed. ÒApparently so. You can suck it up. Plenty of other things to eat, and you
know I hate samosas. I got those
for you.Ó
ÒBless you, my child.Ó He pushed
the salad aside and dug in.
ÒSo. You and Spock?Ó
ÒIs
his game off?Ó
ÒNope.Ó
ÒThen
why ask?Ó She grinned.
ÒOoh,
retreating into protecting your privacy.
I like that. HeÕs happy,
Chris. HeÕs really happy.Ó
ÒItÕs
early.Ó
ÒMmm hmmm. You
two looked like a couple the other night in his quarters. So comfortable
together. YouÕve never had
that, have you?Ó
ÒNope. YouÕre right on that score.Ó
ÒI
would like having you with him. Two
of my best friends happy together.Ó
He grinned at her and then reached over and slowly pulled the kadu back to the middle of the table. ÒYou donÕt really think youÕre not going
to have to share this, do you? ItÕs
the only way I like pumpkin.Ó
She
smiled. SheÕd gotten a double order
of it because she knew he loved it, but she still liked to screw with him.
##
Chapel
was at the transporter room, pacing the way Scotty had been on the bridge, as
she waited for Jim and Spock and Len to materialize. TheyÕd been missing for five days. Stupid damn fools.
ÒDoctor,
IÕve got them.Ó The transporter
tech smiled at her. ÒTheyÕre all
yours.Ó
The
three beamed in, looking dirty and much the worse for wear.
ÒChris,Ó
Jim said as he tried to push past her.
ÒUh
uh.Ó She
stopped him, her hand hard in his chest, then she looked at Spock, who appeared
to be trying to edge around Jim.
ÒYou, too. Stop right
there.Ó
ÒChristine,
glad to see youÕre not going to let them get out of a physical. IÕll meet up with you and—Ó Len didnÕt try
to edge, he strode.
ÒBelay
that, Bones. If we go, you
go.Ó Jim grinned at her. ÒI know you could have stopped him, but
I so rarely get to tell him what to do, and I owe him for the bacon.Ó
She
grinned back. ÒGo to sickbay. Now. IÕm right behind you.Ó She let the two of them go and followed
with Spock. ÒIÕm hanging back with
you because of all of them, youÕre the shiftiest.Ó
He
looked pleased.
ÒChop
chop, cowboy.Ó
ÒI
have never heard you call Jim that.
Or Leonard.Ó
She
laughed. ÒMy grandma used to say
that to people. She was from Laramie—cattle
country. Grew up on a horse.Ó
ÒDid
she say it to people she was annoyed with or people she particularly liked?Ó
She
smiled in the most secretive way she could. ÒYes.Ó Ushering him into sickbay, she said, ÒBiobed.
Now. IÕll get to you eventually.Ó
Again
he looked pleased. ÒSo I will be
last?Ó
ÒThatÕs
right.Ó
ÒAnd
your shift will be over?Ó
ÒYes.Ó
ÒExcellent. You can escort me to my quarters.Ó
ÒSpock,
quit hitting on her so she can get to work. I want a shower.Ó Jim winked at her.
As
she walked over to him, he murmured, ÒSo much fun now that youÕre with him.Ó
ÒNot
with him.Ó
ÒYeah,
you just keep telling yourself that.Ó
He laughed softly.
ÒHe
can hear you.Ó
ÒI
know. ThatÕs the beauty of it.Ó
She
glanced over at SpockÕs biobed; he looked very
content. ÒLie
back, Captain. You donÕt get a
shower or anything else until IÕm convinced youÕre fine.Ó
ÒWorried
about us?Ó
ÒYou
know I was. Who would steal my food
if something happened to you?Ó
He
grinned at her and lay back.
ÒChristine,
I really think I could be of some assistance here.Ó Len started to get up.
ÒI
say this with the utmost respect, boss.
Shut up. And lie the hell
down.Ó
ÒI
see a new career for you as a dominatrix, Christine.Ó
Jim
laughed softly.
She
ignored both of them and went on with the exam. A shot of restoratives, an order to get
some sleep, and Jim was free.
She
moved on to Len.
He
grinned at her. ÒSo, saving Spock
for last, huh?Ó
She
lifted an eyebrow and his smile grew.
ÒNot
going to throw me off the scent.
You think IÕve been missing whatÕs going on?Ó
ÒNothing
going on, sir.Ó
ÒUh
huh. You canÕt divert me by sirring me, Christine.Ó He lay back, then
sighed. ÒCan you check my
wrist? I think I screwed it up
trying to keep up with those two.Ó
His voice was pitched so low she didnÕt think Spock could hear him.
ÒSure.Ó It was sprained, so she worked on
it. ÒMight want to wear a brace to
sleep for a few nights.Ó
ÒIÕll
grab one on the way out. Can I go, Doctor?Ó
She
gave him the same restorative shot sheÕd given Jim—only a bigger dose:
keeping up with the others had taken a lot out of him—and then released
him.
Spock
sat up as she approached.
She
pushed him back down carefully.
ÒDonÕt make me order you to sleep here.Ó
ÒYou
would not.Ó
ÒAnd
why is that?Ó
He
looked around, probably to see if anyone was in the area. ÒBecause you wish to sleep with me.Ó
ÒNothing
wrong with your ego. LetÕs check
the rest of you, okay?Ó
He
rubbed her leg as she worked.
ÒReally? You think now is the time to do that?Ó
ÒI
was thinking about you on the planet.
How I might not see you again if we did not get away from our captors.Ó
ÒFortunately,
you did.Ó SheÕd been worried
though. Not after one day. That was pretty standard for a Kirk-led
landing party into iffy territory. But after two, then three, four, and five.
ÒI
am fine, Christine. Release me so
we can go.Ó
Annoyingly,
he was right. She gave him a very
low dose of the restoratives and said, ÒOkay, you can go.Ó She patted him on the arm and started to
walk into her office to turn off her terminal.
He
swung his legs off the bed and followed her into her office. ÒCall for priv—Ó
ÒPrivacy,
now.Ó The screens darkened, the
door clicked, and she went into his arms.
ÒDamn you. I did not want to
care.Ó
ÒUnderstood.Ó He turned them so she was against the
wall and kissed her.
She
wasnÕt entirely sure which of them got their pants off, but pants-less they
both were, and he was hiking her up onto him, and she was running her fingers
through his hair and murmuring, ÒYouÕre dirty and you smell bad.Ó
ÒI
know,Ó he whispered in her ear, and then they were together and she moaned.
This
time, he had no trouble finding the sweet spot, sending her off, kissing her as
he did it to muffle the sound. He
looked extremely pleased with himself, but then his expression changed to one
of intentness, and he let go and found his own pleasure.
He
held her, leaning against her as she kissed his neck, both of them breathing
hard, the wall of her office a wonderful thing, keeping them upright. She had a vision of them doing it in
here in the future, probably after he followed Jim into trouble again.
ÒI
wish to shower, Christine. Come
back to my quarters with me.Ó
ÒAre
you saying I smell bad, too?Ó
His
lips ticked up. ÒI am not. I am saying I want you with me.Ó
ÒDuring
your shower?Ó
ÒAfter
would also be pleasant.Ó He nuzzled
against her and let her down. ÒI
care for you deeply. I regret I was
not able to give you pleasure our first time. I will—Ó
He
had to stop talking because she had her hand over his mouth.
Once
she was sure he wasnÕt going to talk, she said, ÒSave your regrets for after
you make love to me some more.Ó After his shower. None of her boys were what youÕd call
springtime fresh.
ÒI
may no longer have any regrets after that.Ó
She
smiled. ÒWin win.Ó
FIN