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.
It All Depends on Where
YouÕre Standing
by Djinn
I. New Beginnings
Lori
Ciani watches as the golden boy walks by in the
cafeteria. HeÕs only been off his
ship for a few weeks and still doesnÕt look completely at home here at Command.
If
a man can be beautiful, Kirk is.
TheyÕve crossed paths a few times in the past but never in any
meaningful way, never in a way thatÕs let her try to figure out what kind of
man he is other than blessed with good looks. SheÕs getting to do that now as she
watches him trying to fit in with the rest of the brass.
She
knows heÕs strong. She knows heÕs
smart. She also knows he has a
reputation that precedes the hell out of him. One he doesnÕt react to if itÕs brought
up, no retorts or anger, but she thinks he doesnÕt like the fact he has it. She sees some sort of sadness in his
eyes at times, and she imagines a woman is the cause of it.
So
far, heÕs defied the ÒCasanova of the QuadrantÓ rumors. He hasnÕt hit on her as they wait for
Nogura to arrive for the morning briefing.
He just smiles and sometimes pours her a coffee from the synthesizer the
old man put in his conference room to keep people from sneaking out of his
staff meetings for a refill and never coming back.
Lori
doesnÕt drink coffee normally. But
she lets Kirk get it for her and nurses it along. He canÕt see how much sheÕs really drunk
since Nogura got tired of people leaving their mugs for his assistant to clean
up and now insists on recyclable cups with lids.
Caffeine
is a weakness. She used to drink it
but found that if she slept in, she would invariably get a headache from
missing her morning cup of joe. ThatÕs dependency—physical if not
true addiction. So she gave up
coffee and hasnÕt missed it. And
when everyone is rushing for their first cup, sheÕs
catching up on the morning comms.
Always one step ahead.
ItÕs how she got to be admiral at such a young age.
She
knows sheÕs not terribly well liked by some of her peers. She doesnÕt care. Her subordinates love her, and sheÕs
worked hard to make sure sheÕs developed the talent entrusted to her.
Good
officers should be cherished. Dependable general crew even more so—the service lived or
died on their backs.
She
thinks Kirk is much the same as she is when it comes to his crew. SheÕs talked to very few people who have
served under him who havenÕt sung his praises.
He
turns, his lunch tray not very full, and seems to be looking for a place to
sit. She smiles when his eyes meet
hers, and he smiles back.
Yes,
she can see why heÕs charmed so many people.
He
walks over. ÒMay I?Ó
ÒIÕd
be insulted if you didnÕt.Ó
He
laughs. ÒWell, never let it be said
IÕd insult a lady—or a fellow admiral. Especially one who knows the lay of the
land here much better than I do.Ó
ÒYouÕll
get the hang of it. YouÕre not
known as a slow learner.Ó
He
laughs, and the sound—if sound could have a color—would be
golden. Everything about him
sparkles.
She
goes back to her salad, has no intention of letting him see sheÕs charmed by
him. But then she peeks up, and heÕs
watching her with a look she isnÕt sure how to read on his face.
ÒWhat?Ó
ÒNothing.Ó
ÒNothing? My ass nothing.Ó She sees his surprise at her words—does
no one call him on bullshit like that?
ÒWhat are you thinking?Ó
He
laughs then. ÒI guess...I guess
itÕs nice to be in one place for a while.Ó
She
smiles, the most mysterious smile she can give him. ÒIÕve always thought so.Ó
##
Chapel
puts her last medical text away and officially calls it a night—which
means itÕs also officially the weekend.
ÒIÕm done for now,Ó she tells Nathan, her study pal.
ÒBitch.Ó He grins as he says it, never looking up
as he works on the assignment she finished two hours ago. ÒSometimes I really hate you.Ó
She
leans down, kisses his cheek. ÒNo,
you always really hate me. You
think I donÕt know you wanted to study with me because IÕm acing everything?Ó
He
tenses.
ÒOh,
donÕt get weird on me. I donÕt
care. ItÕs not like I give a
damn.Ó
He
looks up at her. ÒYou really are a
bitch, you know that, right?Ó
ÒI
do.Ó She stares out past their
private, soundproof study carrel and into the medical library proper. ÒI used to be one in grad school. Kind of lost my edge while I was a
nurse.Ó She laughs. ÒFell in love.Ó
ÒWith
Korby, right?Ó
ÒNo,
Roger was manageable. This other
guy...Ó She
sighs. How to
explain Spock and her inexplicable crush. A crush she was over with. Or if not over, not
going to relive. If Spock
were to show up from that Vulcan place he went, sheÕd run the other way. Okay, sheÕd probably smile like a fool
and make an ass out of herself just on muscle memory from five years of idiocy,
but then sheÕd run the other way.
ÒYou
mean you met a man who actually did not want to sleep with you? Did he play for my team?Ó
ÒTo
be honest, IÕve never been sure.Ó
She punches him lightly.
ÒAnd itÕs not one team or the other and nothing else. ThereÕs a spectrum.Ó
ÒWhere
do you fall?Ó
ÒPretty
much straight. Although IÕve been
known to tumble into bed with a pretty girl if—Ó
ÒYou
thought sheÕd be useful.Ó
ÒShit,
you really do think IÕm cold. I was
going to say if she had a cute smile and none of the boys were doing it for
me.Ó
He
laughs. ÒGo away. Unless you want me to copy your work.Ó
She knows he wouldnÕt. He may be
hanging around her because she can explain things in the way he likes to
receive information—and she tends to be able to figure out the best way
to approach each of their instructors—but heÕd never cheat.
She
reaches down and rubs his shoulder.
ÒIÕm going to go blow off some steam.Ó
ÒDonÕt
do anything I wouldnÕt do.Ó He
winks.
ÒWow. That gives me parsecs of leeway.Ó With a giggle at his mock
offended expression, she leaves him to study in peace.
##
Kirk
walks through the crowded bar, feeling strangely out of place in a way he never
would have had he been doing this on liberty. To live here, to be stuck here—it didnÕt lend the shine to these places that
knowing heÕd be shipping out on the Enterprise
always did.
HeÕs
been here for weeks. Will it ever
feel comfortable?
ÒMmmm. Look what
the cat dragged in.Ó
He
turns and sees Chapel. She is
dressed in a purple dress that barely covers her. Her hair is darker than he remembers,
and sheÕs heavily made up but in a way that makes her look exotic, not like
sheÕs trying too hard, which is how he used to think of her on the ship. ÒChris.Ó
ÒYou
wanna troll, sir? IÕll leave you alone.Ó
ÒYouÕre
more direct than I remember.Ó He
frowns. ÒAnd for GodÕs sake, drop
the sir. Call me Jim.Ó
ÒOkay. Jim.Ó She smiles at him, and itÕs a smile
sheÕs never given him before. HeÕd
bet money itÕs a smile sheÕs never given Spock, either. There is something so...predatory in the
expression.
And sexy. Really, really sexy.
ÒDo
you want a drink?Ó
She
holds up her glass. ÒI have a
drink. You can buy me the next one,
though.Ó
ÒOkay.Ó He feels a little off balance. This is not how things go with her.
ÒYou
look uncomfortable.Ó
ÒAnd
again with the directness.Ó
ÒWhen
I joined your crew to find Roger, I left a lot of myself behind. The real me, I guess. When I left the Enterprise, I decided to get her back.Ó
ÒHmmm.Ó He isnÕt sure what more to say so he settles
for nodding.
ÒYou
donÕt like her—the real me—do you?Ó She laughs, and itÕs a sound that holds
true amusement. She is not hurt
that he doesnÕt like this new her—and sheÕs right, he doesnÕt think he
does.
ÒI
tell you what.Ó She takes a sip
from her drink. ÒIÕm going to let
you go do whatever it is youÕre here to do. There are plenty of men who will buy me
a drink—and enjoy the process.Ó
She leans in and whispers in his ear, ÒBut youÕre missing out, Jim.Ó
Then she saunters off, all long legs and swaying hips. She looks back at him, and her smile is
dangerously sexy. Several men smile
at her as soon as she turns back to the bar.
He
goes the other way, looking for a table to sit at, turns and nearly runs into
Lori Ciani, still in uniform and looking a bit
harried. ÒHi.Ó
ÒHi. The old man wore me out today. I need a drink before I head home.Ó She looks around, as if she, too, canÕt
figure out where to sit.
ÒAre
you hungry?Ó
She laughs, and to his relief itÕs missing the mocking tone that ChapelÕs amusement
held. ÒNot for the food in this
place.Ó
ÒWherever
you want. I have a lot of credits
saved up.Ó
ÒYouÕll
laugh.Ó
ÒTry
me.Ó He doesnÕt think heÕll laugh
at her. SheÕs so attractive, been
so helpful. Without seeming to
really want much from him in return.
Not shut down to opportunity but not really appearing to seek any
further closeness than what they have.
He
likes that. He likes that a
lot. SheÕs her own person.
ÒIÕm
dying for ribs,Ó she says. ÒI
havenÕt had them for a long time.Ó
ÒMemphis? St. Louis? Dallas?Ó
ÒOh,
please. Chicago.Ó She grins. ÒI grew up there.Ó
Well,
Chicago it is, then.Ó He holds his
arm out to her, and she takes it with a sweet smile. ÒHave I said thank you, Lori? I know youÕve been looking out for
me. Giving me little tips without
appearing to be doing it.Ó
ÒUh,
no, you havenÕt.Ó
ÒWell,
thank you.Ó He feels at ease with
her. SheÕs shorter than he is, but
not by much, and wears her glossy brown hair short, like Areel
did. SheÕs slim but looks fit, like she could hold her own if she had to. ÒThank you very much.Ó
ÒYouÕre
welcome very much.Ó
II. First Rumblings
Lori
and Jim are at a party—a picnic given by Admiral Davies at his house on
the water. ItÕs gorgeous, the view,
the house, the furniture, the sun setting gracefully as Davies gets a bonfire
lit down by the beach.
Lori
watches the group of younger officers who have clustered around Jim. Commanders and lieutenant commanders whoÕve worked for Davies in some capacity. Every single one of
them hungry for his or her own command.
And
lapping up JimÕs stories of his time on the Enterprise
as if theyÕre the most interesting things theyÕve ever heard.
She
turns and leaves Jim to his storytelling.
SheÕs a little sick of it. Found it charming at first, but after
umpteen dinners, sheÕs drowning in his bitter nostalgia. He hangs on to the past as if his life
ended the day he gave up the big chair.
She
knows she hasnÕt commanded a starship, but she was captain of a resupply
vessel. She loved her crew. Hell, she loved that cantankerous old
ship.
But
it didnÕt define her. She moved
on. Why the hell canÕt he?
Davies
wanders over to her, his smile the same as ever, her mentor, sponsor, and
pseudo father figure. Lori didnÕt
mean to latch onto him, but he never seemed to mind. HeÕs been a surrogate father to so many
officers, itÕs not like she stands out.
ÒI
was surprised you took up with him.Ó
He takes a long pull of his beer as he watches Jim holding court. ÒIÕm not a fan of his.Ó
ÒWhyÕd
you invite him, then?Ó
He
laughs. ÒBecause I knew youÕd bring
him with you. Might as well do the
gracious thing and give him his own invite, not make him be your plus one.Ó
She
smiles. ÒWhy donÕt you like him?Ó
ÒI
didnÕt say I didnÕt like him. The
man can charm and heÕs whip smart. I just donÕt think heÕs really admiral
material.Ó
She
looks up at him, trying to read his expression. ÒHe was the youngest captain ever.Ó
ÒYes,
but you were the youngest admiral ever.Ó
He shakes his head. ÒSome
men need the stars, Lori. Maybe I
just feel protective of the fleet, of you, hell, of everyone whoÕs going to
have to deal with him when he realizes heÕs never getting those stars
back. IÕve seen it before. Great captains donÕt always make great
admirals—quite frankly, they often make the worst.Ó
ÒJust
give him time, Frank. HeÕs a good
man.Ó
ÒAh...you
really are in love with him. I wish
I thought that would end well.Ó
She
hears the truth in his voice, that he thinks sheÕs going to be hurt, that Jim
is going to hurt her. But he
wonÕt. TheyÕre both high flyers. ItÕs in him to excel. ÒHeÕll do fine once he gets his
bearings.Ó
ÒItÕs
been three months. How long does it
take to acclimate, kid?Ó
SheÕs
wondered that herself. She wonÕt
betray Jim by admitting it.
ÒLook
at his record, Lori.Ó
ÒI
have. That he brought his ship back
at all was an accomplishment. That
he brought it back in good enough shape to be refitted is damned near a
miracle.Ó
Davies
seems to give her that. A nod of his head before he takes another pull of his
beer. ÒHe bucks the system. He breaks the rules. He doesnÕt play well with others.Ó
ÒHis
crew would die for him.Ó She thinks
of all the stories Jim has told her since they started seeing each other,
remembers one that will work for her.
ÒAnd he can beat someone at their own game. He did it on Sigma Iotia
II. Just...give him time. IÕm sure heÕll be fine.Ó
DaviesÕ
look is full of pity. She wants to
slap him, this man who has only ever watched her back. ÒIf you say so, Lori. If you say so.Ó
##
Chapel
sees Kirk sitting in the cafeteria, he and Admiral Ciani
not joined at the hip for once. She
walks over with her tray and sits down.
He
looks up, his expression startled.
ÒJesus, Chris. Make yourself
at home.Ó
ÒLook,
if Ciani is joining you, IÕll move. Even if sheÕs not, I can leave as soon
as I ask you what I need to ask you.Ó
ÒSheÕs
out of town. You can stay.Ó His voice is different than sheÕs used
to hearing it.
SheÕs
used to Jim Kirk being in command, having that note of contentment that says,
ÒI belong here.Ó He does not have
that now. She leans forward and
studies him.
ÒYou
want to take a picture? You can
stare at that instead of me.Ó
ÒYouÕre
not happy, are you?Ó
His
eyes dart up to meet hers, his look hard and uncompromising. ÒWhat I am or am not is not really your
concern, ensign.Ó
ÒOuch. And itÕs lieutenant now, or donÕt you
bother to read the lists anymore?Ó
He
closes his eyes, and she realizes he probably has forgotten to look. And sheÕs not wearing the new rank insignia
yet—the promotion ceremony isnÕt until Monday.
ÒWho
else was on it?Ó he asks.
ÒChekov. Sanderson. Garcia. CÕLoth.Ó
ÒShit. I should have sent a note.Ó
ÒWell,
forget about that for me. I have a
bigger favor to ask.Ó
ÒWhat?Ó He goes back to eating, spearing a piece
of lettuce as if it is a Klingon.
She can tell heÕs dieting: he looks damn good. Working out, too, if the way heÕs
filling out his uniform is any indication.
ÒYou
know Decker, right?Ó
He
nods.
ÒI
want an introduction. Also a
recommendation.Ó
He
starts to laugh. ÒAre you sure
youÕre the Christine Chapel I know?
My God, youÕve got balls.
You want to be a doctor on the Enterprise,
go about it the normal way. Apply
for the billet.Ó
She
smiles. ÒI donÕt want to be a doctor. I want to be the doctor. I want to
be CMO.Ó
He
stops his fork mid spear. ÒWhat,
now?Ó
ÒYou
heard me.Ó She doesnÕt smile,
doesnÕt try to cajole or wheedle.
This is officer to officer.
He doesnÕt owe her a damn thing, but still, she needs him to want to
help her.
ÒIÕm
surrounded by ambitious women.Ó He
doesnÕt sound all that pleased at the concept.
She
wonders if maybe Ciani is out of town because theyÕre
fighting, then she decides it doesnÕt matter. Not to what she wants. ÒSince when is ambition a crime?Ó
ÒWhy
should I help you get this?Ó
ÒIÕm
top in my class. By
a wide margin. You know I
helped Len with things way beyond what a nurse would do. I already have several other
degrees. IÕm familiar with the
ship. IÕm good with people.Ó Or she used to be. Now...well, making friends with her
fellow students hasnÕt exactly been a priority for her. The instructors, however...
He
holds up a hand. ÒIÕll introduce
you. IÕll even tell him good things
about you—but based on your performance on the ship. IÕm not telling him to select you as
CMO. WillÕs a big boy. He can make his own decisions.Ó
ÒThe
way he picked Sonak?Ó She knows she has him on this one. Ny told her that he pushed Decker into
picking him—and Ny knows that because Decker trusts her. Tells her things—things he
probably doesnÕt think sheÕll share with Chapel or anyone else.
KirkÕs expression changes. HeÕs angry, but she thinks most of it is
probably not at her. ItÕs at
Spock. At his best friend, the
legendary man at his side, who up and left for some place on Vulcan that purged
all emotion.
That
had to hurt. It hurts her and she
has never been SpockÕs friend.
She
decides to ride out the icy silence.
She picks up her sandwich and bites into it.
ÒI
thought he should have...Ó KirkÕs voice is helpless as he
trails off.
ÒWhat
you had. A Vulcan
by his side. I get it. IÕm not criticizing. Just pointing out your argument is
specious.Ó
He
nods, sighing heavily, and she thinks maybe sheÕs won. ÒEverything was so much simpler before,
Chris.Ó
SheÕs
pretty sure simpler doesnÕt equal better, but she resists saying so. Instead, she makes her expression as
soft as it goes these days and says, ÒI know, sir.Ó
ÒI
told you to call me Jim.Ó
ÒEven
at Command? I thought you meant
just when I was coming on to you in bars.Ó
He
laughs. ÒNo. Here, too. Within reason, of course.Ó
ÒOf
course.Ó
##
Kirk
rings for entrance at LoriÕs place.
SheÕs back in town, finally.
She was gone for longer than he liked, and he thinks he knows why.
He
thinks she wants more than just dinners every now and then, one of them staying
over with the other. That she wants
to settle down. WhatÕs stopping
him?
She
opens the door and looks genuinely surprised. ÒJim. Did we have a date that I
forgot—or never knew of?Ó
ÒIÕm
tired of having to walk over to see you.Ó
ÒThen
take a flitter.Ó She laughs. ÒI was just about to go to bed.Ó
Suddenly,
he feels awkward. Is she seeing
someone else? Is that why she left
town? ÒAlone?Ó he manages to
strangle out.
ÒUh,
yeah.Ó She moves aside. ÒYou look like you could use a drink.Ó
He
pushes past her, still sure there might be someone in there, maybe calling for
emergency beam-out. The place is
empty.
ÒScotch? Or shall I order you a
straightjacket?Ó She is smiling at
him. ÒWhatÕs wrong?Ó
ÒYou
were gone.Ó
ÒYes. I do that. I travel for Nogura.Ó She points in the general direction of
where she keeps the drinks and heads into the bedroom. ÒDonÕt come in here till youÕre sane
again.Ó
He
makes himself a drink, then walks into the
bedroom. SheÕs in bed. Naked, if bare shoulders are any
indication.
ÒI
take it you missed me?Ó she asks.
He
nods, then sips his drink.
ÒAre
you all right, Jim?Ó
He
walks to the bedroom window, looks out at the city lights. Lights that she told him remind her of
the stars, but he doesnÕt see it.
ÒI
hate it here.Ó
ÒHere?
In my bedroom here?Ó
He
laughs. ÒNo. On Earth here. Off my ship here. Things with you not
here werenÕt good.Ó He turns
to look at her. ÒYouÕre sort of my
true north these days.Ó
ÒI
think IÕd rather be your true love.Ó
She is not smiling, and he knows heÕs said the wrong thing. She is strong—what does she need
with a man who canÕt find his bearings after months in Command? A man who needs her to
be his guide.
ÒI
do love you, Lori.Ó
ÒSure
you do, Jim.Ó
He
puts the drink down on the dresser and walks over to the bed. ÒI do. I love you.Ó
She
turns her back to him. ÒNo, you
need me. And those are two
different things. When are you
going to let go of that damn ship?Ó
HeÕs
introduced Chapel to Decker and recommended her, despite telling her he wasnÕt
going to. WasnÕt that letting
go? IsnÕt this misery he feels the
result of having let go? He has no
hope of ever getting his ship back.
All
he has is this woman and what lies ahead.
He
could settle down. Live the life he
and Carol never got to.
Have
children.
He
pulls his clothes off, slips under the cover, and turns Lori so sheÕs facing
him. ÒI love you. I want more. From you. For us.Ó
ÒMore?Ó She studies him so searchingly it makes
him feel guilty. ÒYou want to move
in?Ó
ÒI
want to get married.Ó
ÒTo
me?Ó
He
draws her closer, kisses her as tenderly as he knows how. ÒYes, to you.Ó He rolls to his back, pulling her on top
of him. ÒDonÕt you want that? We can make a home. Kids.Ó
ÒWhoa. YouÕre way down the road already and IÕm
still asking if itÕs me you want to marry.
You see the problem, donÕt you?Ó
ÒIf
you donÕt love me, just say so. I
know this is sudden. But I had a
lot of time to think while you were gone.Ó
Which is certainly true, but he didnÕt spend the time thinking about
this. Or not
consciously, anyway. Maybe
he has been thinking about it the whole time, though. Maybe this is what he wanted from the
moment he saw her in the bar that night.
ÒI
do love you, Jim. Ask me again in a
few months, if you still want this.
Okay?Ó
He
nods, feels stung even though he knows her answer is a logical one. That sheÕs smart to
make him wait.
ÒOh,
God, are you going to sulk? Because
if you are, I wonÕt keep going, which would be me saying that maybe we should
move in together. We could see how
that goes. An...interim step.Ó
ÒIÕd
like that.Ó Being with her will
fill his time. He can channel all
the wishes for what he canÕt have into something positive.
ÒI
like my place and I donÕt think you give a shit about yours, so you move in
here.Ó
ÒAye-aye,
Admiral.Ó He grins and sees her
relax. Realizes that he, too, has
finally let go of the tension he brought over here.
III. Terra Firma
Lori
rolls over in bed, finds JimÕs side empty.
She peeps open an eye, sees that light is slipping in between the
curtains. ItÕs morning
already? ÒShit.Ó
ÒIs
that any way to greet a birthday breakfast?Ó Jim brings in a tray and sets it down
over her lap once she sits up. On
the tray are an omelette and orange juice and an empty cup.
ÒUhh, is the cup a message? My cup does not floweth over?Ó
He
laughs. ÒOr it floweth
over and away.Ó He goes to the
dresser, rummages around in one of his drawers. ÒNo, itÕs a sign that IÕve been wise to
your ways this whole time. You
donÕt even like coffee, do you?Ó
ÒI
gave up caffeine years ago.Ó
He
turns to study her, and she thinks he has something behind his back. ÒWhyÕd you give it up?Ó
ÒI
like to be in control.Ó
He
smiles. ÒThat sounds like
you.Ó He walks toward her, his
hands still behind his back. ÒAnd
speaking of control, I believe you now have a choice. I will either sing happy birthday to
you—very badly because I cannot carry a tune—while you eat or you
can open this.Ó He holds out a
small box.
ItÕs
the size of a ring box. She doesnÕt
want it to be the size of a ring box.
Who the hell combines a birthday gift with an engagement ring?
ÒAre
you going to choose me singing? Because you are staring daggers at my gift. I really do suggest you open it.Ó
She
takes it and opens it gingerly, then starts to laugh. A single chocolate truffle sits inside.
ÒHad
you going. Man, you really do not
want to marry me, do you?Ó
ÒI
just thought it was a cheap move to combine two events.Ó
ÒAnd
one truffle is an extravagance?Ó He
grins. ÒThe rest of the box will be
waiting in the hotel room I booked for us tonight in Paris.Ó He gets into bed carefully, not
disturbing her breakfast, and leans in to kiss her. ÒI love you. Happy birthday.Ó
ÒThank
you.Ó She pops the truffle into her
mouth.
ÒHey. Omelette first, honÕ.Ó
ÒToo
late,Ó she mumbles around the piece of chocolate heaven that is the
truffle. ÒOh my God this is good.Ó
ÒI
know. I love this shop.Ó He takes her fork and helps himself to a
piece of omelette, making her laugh.
ÒWhat? I was afraid you
thought it might not be edible.
ThatÕs why youÕre skipping it.
Mmmm mmmm.Ó He nods toward her juice. ÒThat is going to taste like crap after
the truffle.Ó
ÒYouÕre
right. It is.Ó She hands him the juice, and he leans
back against the headboard and takes a sip. ÒI like having you here, Jim. IÕm glad you were so weird that night.Ó
ÒYes,
just what a fellow wants to hear.Ó
He is staring at her very tenderly.
ÒIÕm glad IÕm here, too.Ó
She
thinks he might really mean it—here on Earth, not just here in her
apartment. HeÕs making progress.
##
Chapel
has the distinct feeling someone is watching her, that itchy feeling between
the shoulder blades, the surge of hairs along the nape of the neck.
Nathan
is staring at something behind her.
ÒWho is tall, blonde, and handsome here for? Please God, let it be me.Ó
She
turns and sees that it is Decker.
He motions with a tilt of his head for her to come out.
ÒOf
course heÕs here for you.Ó Sounding
as aggrieved as he ever has, Nathan goes back to his padd.
She
walks out, follows Decker as he strides out of the library common area, to the steps
outside. He points up at the night
sky. ÒTell me what you see.Ó
This
man is not Jim Kirk. She does not
think she will answer him the same way she would her former captain, who would
want to hear something inspiring, like Òthe futureÓ or Òinfinite
possibilities.Ó She smiles and
says, ÒI see balls of light that may be dead by now.Ó
He
looks surprised. ÒHmmm.Ó
ÒDid
you want me to be more profound?Ó
She laughs softly. ÒSorry,
IÕm sort of a pragmatist.Ó
He
leans against the stone balustrade that follows the stairs down. ÒIÕm okay with pragmatism. I lost a lot of dreams when my father
died.Ó
ÒI
was off the ship when that happened.
I never knew him. IÕm sorry
I never knew him.Ó Although sheÕs
already known—hell, been engaged to—a maniac so driven he ended up
killing himself. Does she really
wish sheÕd met another one?
ÒHe
wasnÕt much of a father. Gone all
the time. Driven.Ó
She
nods. ÒI know the type. My fiancŽ left me before our wedding to
chase his dreams. His ship was
lost. He never came back.Ó
ÒThen
you do understand.Ó
She
smiles, makes it a sadly sweet smile, the smile of a woman who never found her
man—no need to rehash the complicated epilogue of RogerÕs saga.
ÒJim
speaks highly of you.Ó
ÒIÕm
glad. I learned a lot from how he
ran things.Ó
His
eyebrow goes up. ÒYou admire him.Ó
ÒWho
doesnÕt?Ó She laughs. ÒBut maybe I learned both what to
do—and what not to—from watching how he ran things.Ó
His
smile is more open, more relaxed.
ÒHeÕs a friend, but IÕm not one of those who blindly worship him.Ó
ÒNeither
am I, sir.Ó
ÒCall
me Will.Ó
ÒWill.Ó She looks up at the stars. ÒIÕll be done with med school in a few
months. Accelerated residency, and
then IÕll be ready to ship out, right as the refits are being completed.Ó She turns to him, catching him staring
at her, smiling as she does it. ÒOr
am I being presumptuous?Ó
ÒYou
are.Ó He starts to smile. ÒI sort of like it, though. Gonna need a
strong doc to keep me in line.Ó
ÒI
can be strong. I can listen,
too. DonÕt always have to talk.Ó
ÒGood. I havenÕt liked the other
candidates. They tell me what I
want to hear. They want the
flagship, they want the prestige.Ó
ÒI
may want those things, too.Ó
ÒSomehow,
I think youÕre a little more complicated than that.Ó He takes a deep breath, then pushes off the balustrade. ÒConsider yourself hired, Lieutenant.Ó
ÒCall
me Christine. Or Chris.Ó
ÒChristine.Ó He grins at her, a smile that seems full
of all the hopes a man can have.
ÒSee you when you report in.Ó
ÒIÕm
here for you before then. If you need to vent.
Or if you have questions about crew who served under
Jim and are staying aboard.
My previous role afforded me many chances to get to know people.Ó
ÒGood
to know. IÕll probably take you up
on that. You like sushi?Ó
She
nods.
ÒDinner,
then. Next week. IÕll comm you
once I know my schedule.Ó
ÒSounds
great.Ó
He
walks away, tall and lanky and very much the kind of man she likes. ItÕs not unusual for captains to get
close to their CMOs.
ItÕs
not unusual at all.
##
Kirk
finishes setting up the tent. HeÕs
in his favorite campsite in Yosemite and heÕs not alone. He looks over his shoulder, sees Lori
sitting by the stream, soaking her feet.
New
boots. Blisters
on her heels. He has cream thatÕll
fix them right up. A miracle cure
Bones made for him. Regenerator in a tube.
ÒYou
okay over there?Ó he asks.
She
looks back at him and nods. ÒJust
getting used to this outdoorsy stuff.Ó
He
digs in his pack, finds the cream, and walks over to her. ÒLet me see your feet.Ó
She
lifts her legs out of the water, shifts so sheÕs facing him, her wet feet in
his lap.
Her
blisters are bad. She must have
been in a lot of pain walking in; she didnÕt let on. ÒYou should have broken in your boots.Ó
ÒHow? By wearing them with my uniform? When do I have time to break in
boots?Ó She leans back and closes
her eyes. ÒSorry, Jim. My feet hurt and IÕm cranky.Ó
He
holds up the tube. ÒAnd I have
relief.Ó He squeezes out some of
the miracle goo and begins to rub it over her feet, going slowly, turning
healing into a foot massage—he likes to think heÕs good at this.
Her
happy moan seems to be confirmation that he is. She opens her eyes and smiles at
him.
ÒBetter?Ó
ÒYes. But donÕt stop.Ó She looks around. ÒYou camp here often?Ó
He
nods. He doesnÕt tell her he first
found this place with Carol. That they came back often. Carol loved the outdoors. For all she was a theoretical scientist,
the field was as much her natural environment as a lab.
Lori
leans back on her elbows, obviously relaxing under his touch. ÒIÕm more a hotel kind of gal.Ó
ÒI
know. I thought maybe this would be
different.Ó
ÒItÕs
certainly that.Ó She exhales and it
seems like she is letting go of more than just breath.
He
knows how hard she works. How many
trips she takes for Nogura. HeÕs
gone with her on some of them, been happy to not lose her to some new place on
Earth or out on a ship that heÕs not in charge of. ItÕs odd being on some other captainÕs
ship. Odd, but heÕs getting used to
it.
Something
changed for them after her birthday dinner in Paris. HeÕs not sure if he let down his guard
or if she did, but theyÕve been closer, more at ease. They talk and laugh and have inside
jokes. They are a couple—anyone
can see it.
He
wants to be more than a couple.
He
reaches into his pocket, pulls out a silk pouch, and hands it to her. ÒI love you. I want to be with you. Always.Ó
She
opens the pouch, her eyes more wary than happy. That bothers him. Does she still not want this?
She
holds the ring up. ItÕs a rose-gold
band, with diamonds set into the ring, flush with the gold, nothing to catch,
nothing to be too flashy, but gorgeously made. He knows itÕs the kind of ring she
likes. HeÕs found ways to get her
to let him know her preferences—sneaky ways. But for a good cause.
ÒItÕs
gorgeous.Ó
ÒMarry
me.Ó He goes back to massaging her
feet. ÒMake an honest man of me.Ó
She
pulls her feet away. ÒI hate that
saying.Ó She is still staring at
the ring, has not put it on.
He
wants to see it on her, wants her to say yes, of course, she will. Wants to hear, ÒOh, Jim, itÕs beautifulÓ
and ÒI love you.Ó But she holds it,
letting the stones glimmer in the sunshine, and says softly, ÒItÕs perfect.Ó
Perfect
sounds like an indictment.
ÒLori,
marry me?Ó He doesnÕt like the
slight edge of panic in his voice, the tension making it rise,
get a little louder. He wants her to understand he has never
asked a woman this. Not any of
them, not even the mother of his child.
ÒA
term marriage.Ó She is not asking,
she is declaring. It sounds like
the first volley in a negotiation round.
ÒWhat? No.
For real.Ó
She
laughs and the sound is not pretty.
ÒI wonÕt do that to myself. Or to you. Not when IÕm not sure why youÕre asking.Ó
ÒIÕm
asking because I love you.Ó
ÒOr
youÕre so desperate to make a life here, to forget your ship and your crew and
everything you really love, that this seems like the only next step.Ó
ÒItÕs
not the only step. But it is the only one I want to
take. DoesnÕt that matter?Ó He wishes he could snatch the ring back,
rip it away from her, and find someone, anyone, else who will appreciate that
this is a special moment—this is not how he is. Ever.
He
was married to his ship. Not to a
lovely warm woman who has invited him into her life, into her home, into her
bed. He canÕt have the
ship—an amicable if still painful divorce—but he can have Lori.
And
they can have kids. Kids he can
see. Kids she wonÕt take away from
him. That wonÕt die before theyÕre
even born.
ÒI
love you, Jim. IÕll put this ring
on, and IÕll say yes, but itÕs to a term marriage. After a year, when itÕs time to renew,
we can see how we feel then.
Maybe...maybe we can redo things in a more traditional way.Ó
He
realizes sheÕs not going to want any kind of ceremony. Term marriages are constructed by
contract, signed in front of a magistrate.
No wedding, no gifts, no guest to show that yes, he has adapted, he can live off a duranium-hulled ship and still be
happy.
ÒFine.Ó The word comes out strangled. He reaches over, eases the ring onto her
finger.
ItÕs
a perfect fit. It looks beautiful
on her. He thinks she wonÕt wear it
at work, despite that. She never
wears jewelry, not even earrings, but surely this could be different. ItÕs a symbol.
HeÕll
wear his. Damn it all, heÕll wear
his.
Only
sheÕll have to get it for him and he somehow canÕt see her doing that, not with
the level of enthusiasm sheÕs showing for this. And he doesnÕt want to have to go back
and get it for himself. ThereÕs one
that matches—why didnÕt he just buy it when he bought hers?
ÒYou
donÕt look very happy, Jim. IÕm
sorry if IÕve ruined the big moment.Ó
ÒBig
moments are overrated. This is real
life, right?Ó
He
thinks that he stumbled on the perfect thing to say. She doesnÕt take offense, in fact her
expression clears, and she pulls him to her, kisses him in the way he has grown
to crave.
They
fit. Bodies. Temperaments. Intellect.
He
loves her.
And
now sheÕll be his wife.
HeÕs
happy. He can be happy. He can.
They
make love, then they talk about silly things as he
cooks up a fish he catches in the stream.
They talk some more as they make their bed under the stars and kiss, the
conversation stilling as her eyes grow heavy
lidded.
Her
hair glows in the campfireÕs light.
The night wind blows a thousand wonderful scents to him—all the
things that canÕt be found on a ship: evergreens and sage and the smell of
burning wood, and just a hint of some night flower he isnÕt sure he could
identify but that smells sweet in the dark.
But
later, as he lies still awake, the fire burned down to embers, as she breathes
the soft rhythm of sleep into his neck, he stares up at the burning orbs in the
inky sky and wishes he were up there, too.
IV. Flaws
Lori
is working late, rushing to get something done for the old man. When he tasks her this way, when itÕs a
quick turnaround action and she needs to coordinate with ships all over, it makes
her feel alive in a way sheÕs never really known. Certainly running a resupply ship didnÕt
come close.
This
matters. This is power. The height of it. And Nogura trusts her. Anyone else heÕd be standing over their shoulder dictating what the outgoing memo would
say. But she he trusts.
ÒYou
want a sandwich or something?Ó he asks as he walks into her office. No preamble, no softening of Òthere will
be hoursÕ more work tonight before you can go home.Ó HeÕs ordering food and if she wants
dinner, sheÕll piggyback on his privileges and get catering to bring her
something, too.
ÒBLT. No mayo.Ó
ÒYou
got it.Ó He walks out, doesnÕt ask
her how sheÕs doing—probably doesnÕt even occur to him, but thatÕs more
because he knows sheÕs doing fine than that he doesnÕt care.
SheÕs
an extension of him at times like these.
SheÕs been working for him long enough that she knows what he wants and
how he wants it, and how long is too long to wait to give him an update.
Catering
brings the sandwich and she eats it, has just finished when Jim comes in, sees
her plate, and his expression changes.
ÒAgain?Ó
ÒSomething
came up.Ó Something
that doesnÕt involve Jim.
That drives him crazy, she thinks.
That she has more access, more of the old manÕs trust, than he
does. SheÕs the go-to person here.
ÒI
was hoping we could have dinner.Ó
ÒSorry.Ó She tries to put some actual regret into
her voice. She can see sheÕs failed by the way his lips tighten.
HeÕs
annoyed with her a lot these days. She thought getting married would settle
him down, but itÕs had the opposite effect. Six months into their marriage, and heÕs
acting like the wounded spouse every time she stays late.
ÒThis
is going to have to change.Ó
She
frowns. ÒIt is?Ó
ÒWhen
we have kids. One of us will need to be around for them.Ó
ÒIÕm
on a deadline and you want to talk about kids?Ó She prays to God the old man does not
decide now is the time for an update.
ÒReally, Jim?Ó
ÒDo
you even want them?Ó
ÒI
donÕt know. Do we need to discuss
this now?Ó Her terminal pings, and
she looks at the comm thatÕs just come in. ÒOh for
shitÕs sake. How hard is it to just
answer the goddamn question we asked?Ó
She types back a reply, her fingers flying over the keys she prefers to
voice mode, and sends it to the captain who thinks telling her heÕll get back
to her in a day is going to cut it.
Jim
is watching her, his mouth set tighter, if thatÕs even possible.
ÒIÕm
going to be here a while, Jim.Ó
ÒClearly.Ó He seems to laugh at
some private joke, shakes his head, and turns on his heel, walking out and
leaving her alone with her crisis.
Thank
God.
Nogura
comes in a little bit later. ÒWhat
did Jim want?Ó
ÒFuck
only knows.Ó
He
laughs. ÒThings not so great with
you two?Ó
She
doesnÕt want to betray Jim by talking about their problems to her boss when she
and Jim havenÕt had time to discuss the issues. She doesnÕt want to, but it slips out
anyway. ÒHe wants kids.Ó
ÒWhy? He never sees the one he has.Ó
She
looks up at him. ÒWhat?Ó
ÒHe
has a son. DidnÕt you know?Ó
She
laughs, a helplessly startled sound she immediately wishes she could pull
back. ÒUh, no. How do you know?Ó
ÒIÕve
known him a long time. Was one of
his drinking buddies when he and Carol were having it out over their future. Not
pretty.Ó He lets out a puff of air,
his version of a bitter laugh. ÒHe
wanted to be in space then, not on Earth.
I think he still does. HeÕs
not settling in here the way I hoped he would.Ó
ÒHeÕs
trying.Ó She says it with as much
conviction as she can considering her husband has a son she didnÕt even know about—a
son he wants her to provide a little brother or sister for.
ÒHe
needs to try harder. For everyoneÕs sake.
But mostly for yours.Ó
ÒIÕm
all right. Whatever happens, IÕll
be fine.Ó
ÒHeart
of iron?Ó His look is
gentle—and somewhat pitying.
ÒHe can bore through iron.
Carol didnÕt come out of that relationship unscathed, and she was one of
the toughest women IÕve ever known.Ó
ÒCarol. Carol who?Ó
He
frowns. ÒIÕll let him tell you
that. IÕve said enough. Now, where are we on the crisis that has
to do with work, not your marriage?Ó
##
Chapel
sees Kirk come into the bar, his expression the one he usually wears now. If a man could ooze unhappiness, he
would.
He
sees her, stops his progress, and seems to consider whether or not he wants to
join her at the bar.
She
doesnÕt smile, finally gets tired of whatever game theyÕre playing, and looks
away, studying a group of what have to be cadets over by the window.
She
senses Kirk sitting down next to her but doesnÕt turn to him, instead keeps trying
to figure out who are the top dogs of the group of kids.
ÒAre
you going to ignore me all night?Ó
ÒNot
ignoring you.Ó She turns to look at
him. ÒMaybe IÕm wondering if I want
you to sit with me when you look angry at the world.Ó
ÒSmart
girl.Ó
She
rolls her eyes and motions the bartender over. ÒGet him whatever he wants. On me.Ó
ÒYouÕll
be sorry.Ó He orders a top-shelf
scotch.
ÒNyah. I donÕt
buy many drinks for myself.Ó She smiles
when he shows surprise. ÒWhat? You think I canÕt charm a man?Ó Or a woman, for that
matter.
ÒI
know you can. Decker seems really
happy with you.Ó
She
leans against him, trying to make the contact warm and companionable—and
grateful. ÒThank you for the
recommendation. I wasnÕt sure you
were going to do it.Ó
ÒOne
of us should be on my ship.Ó
She
doesnÕt tell him that if it were still his ship, she wouldnÕt want to be CMO on
it. Not that sheÕd have the
choice. Kirk likes things the way
theyÕve always been. Spock on one side, Len on the other.
Decker,
on the other hand, likes her on top.
She bites back a satisfied grin, not wanting to let Kirk see just how
much she is enjoying her new captain.
Who also likes her on the bottom, on her hands and knees, on the table
in his newly refitted quarters with her legs wrapped around him—whatever
the moment calls for.
ÒSo,
Jim, why are you here?Ó
ÒTrouble
at home.Ó
SheÕs
surprised at such honesty. She
glances at him, sees he is staring straight ahead, his jaw set tight, then he
drains half his drink in a long gulp.
ÒEasy
there. Unless you want to get very
drunk.Ó
ÒVery
drunk sounds very nice.Ó He waves
the bartender back over. ÒPut
everything on my tab and leave the bottle this time.Ó
She
decides not to argue; she doesnÕt want to pay for an entire bottle of
eighteen-year old single-malt scotch.
He
drains another glass before he says anything else. She goes back to studying the cadets.
ÒWhat
do you see when you watch them?Ó
ÒKids
too stupid to know lifeÕs going to kick them in the teeth and then run over
them with a shuttlecraft. That if
theyÕre really lucky, life wonÕt decide to put the thing in reverse and run
over them again for good measure.Ó
He
laughs, a real laugh, but harsh, as if he agrees but hates agreeing. ÒYouÕre a downer, Chris. Who knew?Ó
He
is pouring himself another glass, throws it back, then
he slides off his stool and pulls her to her feet. ÒDance with me.Ó
She
follows him to the dance floor since she doesnÕt feel like causing a scene by
trying to get loose of his iron grip.
But once they are dancing, he seems distant.
ÒWhatÕs
the problem, Jim?Ó
ÒYouÕre
not my CMO, Chapel. DonÕt presume.Ó
ÒFair
enough. How about we get you
sobered up, then?Ó She digs into a pocket,
pulls out an antitox and holds it out to him. When he opens his mouth and sticks his
tongue out, she drops it on, watches as he closes his mouth, letting the little
miracle pill dissolve.
Sobriety
comes quickly. And seems to punch him
in the gut because his anger fades and something sadder takes its place.
ÒI
donÕt know whatÕs wrong, Jim. And
itÕs clear you arenÕt going to tell me, which is fine. But whatever is wrong, you should fix
it. This new you: heÕs not
attractive.Ó
Her
words seem to hit him like a baseball bat welded with intent.
He
pulls away. ÒYouÕre right. HeÕs not.Ó
ÒSorry
for the truth. IÕm not your
CMO. I should keep my mouth shut.Ó
ÒNo. No, youÕre right.Ó He lets her go. ÒI have a wife to go mollify.Ó
ÒSeems
to me you had a wife even before you asked me to dance.Ó
He
frowns, meets her eyes as if not sure where sheÕs going with the comment.
ÒHow
drunk were you going to need to be before you came on to me?Ó
He
seems to stiffen, pushes away from her as if she is carrying a plague. ÒThatÕs not what—Ó
ÒSure. Fine. Whatever you need to tell yourself. Do you not wear a wedding ring
normally? Or did you take it off
special for tonight?Ó
He
is angry now. She thinks he would
take that recommendation to Decker back if he could. He looks down at his fingers, seems
about to say something, then shakes his head.
ÒGood
night, sir.Ó She turns and leaves
him on the dance floor, walking back to the bar where she tells the bartender
to put the bottle back, that her friend is done for the night.
Her
friend? It almost makes her laugh.
She
doesnÕt relax until she sees him leave.
ÒWhat
was that?Ó A warm
tone, amusement rather than jealousy. ÒShould I be worried?Ó
She
turns to Decker. ÒWorried? About a sad man who canÕt let go of what
he lost?Ó
He
looks a little unhappy with her.
ÒHe loved the ship.Ó
ÒDonÕt
give him an inch, Will. Not one
inch of ownership of your ship. His Enterprise
is being destroyed every day that you refit her, his ship is buried in new
fabrics and new paint and new stations.
He wonÕt even know his way around if he comes aboard. DonÕt feel sorry for him, Will.Ó
ÒYou
can be so hard.Ó
She
would put her hand on his knee, remind him that she can be soft, too, but they
save the displays of affection for when they are alone. And sheÕs fine with that. She doesnÕt want anyone saying she got
this job on her back. She got it
before then, with her brains. She
just likes to know sheÕs got the man in charge at her side. It makes her feel...safe.
He
meets her eyes, his own losing their disappointment. ÒIÕve had a long day on the ship. LetÕs get out of here.Ó
She
grins. ÒI thought youÕd never ask.Ó
##
Kirk
is trying to forget what happened in the bar with Chapel the previous week. He hates that heÕs not sure what he went
there for, why he sat with her, drinking so much, dancing with her.
Why
she looked so damn good to him.
Until she fed him antitox, and he thought he
saw what he looked like through her eyes.
And
imagined how disappointed and hurt Lori would be if she could see him. Acting out. Acting like a hurt
little boy.
HeÕs
been on his best behavior since.
Lori wants to work all night because Nogura canÕt pick his nose without
her there? Fine. Kirk wonÕt say a goddamned word.
He
smiles now when she tells him sheÕll be late. ThatÕs fine, dear. No problem, dear. He brings flowers home so sheÕll find
them when she comes in. HeÕs the
perfect husband.
Even if they donÕt make love as often as they used to.
Even
if heÕs usually asleep by the time she gets home.
Like
he was last night. He lies now, in
the first light of morning, watching her as she sleeps. The alarm will go off in ten minutes so
he reaches over, turns it off, and wakes her himself, nuzzling and kissing
until she murmurs, ÒGood morningÓ and pulls him on top of her.
It
feels good, to be with her this way.
This is what he thought marriage would be, this warm comfort, skin
against skin with no thought of what was to come, whether or not to commit. The commitment already made.
For
a year, a part of himself intent on causing trouble
seems to whisper. Only for a year.
As
they lie together afterwards, breath slowing, curled around each other, he
murmurs, ÒWhen our year is up, weÕll get married for real. None of this term-marriage bullshit.Ó
She
stiffens, and he realizes he should have chosen his words more carefully. ÒTerm or not, Jim, itÕs still a
marriage. Is it bullshit to you,
what we have?Ó
ÒI
didnÕt mean it that way.Ó He sighs. What has happened to the silver-tongued
Kirk who could charm his way out of any situation? Did he stay on the Enterprise? Some sort
of ghost, letting this lesser version of himself come
to Earth?
ÒWe
need to talk about the kid issue.Ó
She sits up, putting space between them, even as she reaches for her
robe, cutting herself off from him with a snippet of ice-green silk. ÒI want them. Someday. I think. But...not now.Ó
ÒNowÕs
a good time.Ó
ÒNow
is a good time for you, perhaps. It
is not a good time for me. And last
I checked, you canÕt carry the baby.Ó
He
looks away. ÒYouÕll never be less
busy. YouÕll just keep
climbing. We need to take a little
break, for the childÕs sake.Ó
ÒFor
the childÕs sake? I heard that you already have a
child. But IÕve never met him. In fact, IÕve never even heard of him
because you never goddamned told me.
So explain to me why our child will be any more important to you than
this son you never see.Ó
He
can feel himself shutting down, the way he always does with his mom when she
brings up the grandson she never gets to see. HeÕs never told her about the child Miramanee was carrying when she died; she doesnÕt need to
know that he would have left that child behind, too. For the good of the
babyÕs mother, not because he didnÕt want it.
ÒYouÕre
not going to say anything? How
unusual.Ó Lori gets out of bed and
walks into the kitchen.
He
hears dishes slamming, gets up, pulling his robe around him, and walks out to
her. ÒHis name is David. His mother made me choose: stay with her
and be his father or have the stars.
I chose the stars.Ó He looks
down. ÒI didnÕt lie to you. I just donÕt talk about him.Ó
He
moves to her side, pulls her close, trying to ignore how tightly sheÕs holding
herself. ÒI want us to have what I
couldnÕt have with him. IÕm here
now. IÕm no longer in the
stars. Not an option.Ó He sounds bitter—too bitter. He tries again. ÒI love you. YouÕll be a wonderful mother. It could work, Lori.Ó
ÒIt
could work, Jim. I agree. Just not now.Ó
He
lets her go and sits down on the stool, swiveling it to look out at the city
rather than at her. ÒThen weÕll
just leave the marriage term. Sorry
I brought it up.Ó
ÒIÕm
not saying never.
IÕm saying not right now.Ó
She walks over to him, grabs the arms of the stool, and stops him when
he tries to move away from her.
ÒYou have to find your own way, Jim. I canÕt be your purpose. Neither can a child. I wonÕt do that to him or her. Get over it. Other admirals do it all the time. They leave the stars.Ó
He
nods, wonÕt meet her eyes, though—canÕt meet her eyes. SheÕs right. He hates that most of all. SheÕs right and heÕs—what is he? Stuck? Defeated?
Broken.
What
the hell business does a broken man think heÕs doing contemplating children?
ÒYouÕre
right, Lori. I need to find my
way.Ó
He
meets her eyes. She is crying, or
as much as she ever does. Eyes
luminous with unshed tears she dashes away in the angry way he used to find
charming. Now he wishes sheÕd cry
for him, for them, for the family they wonÕt have—at least not now, but
when? When will she be goddamned done
racing up the ranks?
Because
heÕs seen her, at NoguraÕs side, with the expression Kirk
used to wear after a good day on the Enterprise. SheÕs happy the way she is.
She
doesnÕt need anything else to be complete.
Not
even Kirk.
ÒIÕm
going to go work out.Ó The gym and
pool are on the top floor of the building.
At night, he can see the stars through the transparent aluminum roof as
he does curl-ups, as he swims on his back, arms windmilling
him into the wall where heÕll kick off for the other side, back and forth, over
and over.
There
wonÕt be any stars, so heÕll swim laps some other stroke. The butterfly maybe. Work out his shoulders. He can control that, how fit he is, how
strong. He may be stuck. He may be broken.
But
he does not have to be weak.
V. Gains and Losses
Lori
watches the reports coming in from the Enterprise. VÕger
destroyed. Will Decker missing,
presumed dead. The eyes-only
version from Jim tells what really happened, that Decker merged with the Ilia
probe and VÕger, became something...else.
She
touches JimÕs face as he makes the report, the recorded image glitching slightly from the contact of her finger on the
screen. She closes her eyes and
tries not to imagine that Jim helped Decker make his decision, that he pushed
him into it.
She
knows Spock is back on the ship.
She knows Jim called McCoy back, too. She wonders what happened to DeckerÕs
pick for CMO—she looks it up to see who it was: Christine
Chapel. A woman
who was a nurse on the ship when Jim had it.
A
woman who maybe didnÕt mind backing down during a crisis, letting someone else,
someone more experienced take over as CMO?
Decker
wouldnÕt have felt that way. But
she saw in JimÕs eyes when he left that he didnÕt care how Decker felt. He
didnÕt care that heÕd recommended the man, that he was
relieving him of duty when Decker probably knew the refitted Enterprise better than Jim did.
She
hears footsteps coming down the hall, knows they are the old manÕs.
ÒWhat
do I do, Lori?Ó Nogura comes in and
sits in one of the chairs in front of her desk. ÒDeckerÕs gone. JimÕs in the chair for
the moment. What do I do?Ó
She
sees heÕll give her this. HeÕll do
whatever she wants because he loves her.
Not the way Jim does, as some kind of beacon of hope, but because
theyÕve worked together through a hundred crises. SheÕs never let any secrets slip. SheÕs always had his back. SheÕs never left him alone if she could
stay and help.
She
closes her eyes. Jim hasnÕt commed her since he beat VÕger. HeÕs had time to file reports. Time to put in commendations for
everyone except the goddamned barber on the ship. But has he called his wife?
ÒGive
him the ship,Ó she whispers.
ÒAre
you sure? I have others who could
take it. Move some folks around.Ó
ÒHe
just saved the goddamn quadrant, sir.
Maybe the universe. Give him the fucking ship.Ó
Because this is what heÕs good at. And heÕll be alive out there. And when he comes home, well, maybe
heÕll be alive again, not the shell of a man sheÕs lived with.
SheÕs
seen the real Jim Kirk in his post-VÕger damage
reports. Heard the real Jim KirkÕs
voice in the recorded list of commendations. The veiled
excitement—exultation, really. Even if it was only for a short time,
heÕs back where heÕs happy. In that big center seat.
ÒIÕll
give him the ship, then.Ó Nogura
gets up, but he stops by her chair, reaches over and lays his hand on her
shoulder. ÒThe manÕs a fucking
idiot.Ó
ÒNo,
sir. The man is James T. Kirk. I think I was the idiot for expecting
him to be happy anywhere but on a ship.Ó
On that ship. Her sleek, silver
rival.
##
Chapel
rings the chime for admittance to KirkÕs quarters. SheÕs followed him out of the lounge, so
sheÕs relatively certain heÕs both alone and still awake and decent.
He
opens the door, stands looking at her, then he smiles like he knows exactly
what sheÕs there for and waves her in.
ÒDidnÕt want me coming to you, huh?Ó
ÒNope.
Sure didnÕt.Ó She sits at his table without being
asked; he takes the seat across from her.
ÒI heard Nogura assigned you permanently. I assume I can kiss being CMO
goodbye.Ó Stupid
choice of words. She didnÕt
get to kiss Will goodbye. But then
he probably didnÕt care. Once Ilia
came back, it was clear Chapel had lost him.
ÒIÕm
afraid so. Deputy position is yours
if you want it.Ó
She
laughs. ÒWhat deputy position?Ó
ÒIÕll
make one. ThereÕs an extra office. Clearly there could be one.Ó
She
meets his eyes. ÒNo. I donÕt want that.Ó
He
looks disappointed, in her, in himself, maybe? For stealing the ship
from Will and not being able to keep some of the crew on board. Chapel thinks Rand wonÕt be far behind
her in the ÒBeen there, done that, got the t-shirtÓ line. ÒDeputy not good enough for you, Chris?Ó
ÒItÕs
not that. ItÕs that I didnÕt go through
everything, kill myself excelling and rushing through the requirements, to end
up...right back where I was. With
you and Spock and Len. Nothing
different. Same ship. Same crew. Same goddamned situation.Ó
ÒI
find that idea comforting—and exciting. I love it here.Ó
She
thinks that is the difference between them. But then maybe it is comforting and
exciting when youÕre the one leading the same shit/different day parade. ÒIÕll be transferring off as soon as we
get back to Earth.Ó
ÒOkay,
then.Ó He sounds angry. He looks hurt.
She
doesnÕt want to part ways with this man on bad terms. She doesnÕt think heÕs made a whole lot
of friends while he was at Command, but he was an admiral and could be
again. And heÕs still Jim Kirk, the
man who had her back once and may have it again—if she handles this the
right way.
ÒCan
I ask you something? Not about the
position.Ó SheÕs pitched her voice
low, made it throatier. She
probably sounds more like the nurse he remembers, not the bitch who wonÕt stay
on his ship and accept the consolation prize of a made-up position.
ÒWhat?Ó
ÒThat
night, in the bar, when we were dancing.Ó
He
looks down.
ÒIf
I hadnÕt given you the antitox, what would have
happened?Ó
ÒI
was in a bad place. Angry. Hurt. Fish out of goddamn water.Ó
She
waits, just sits, watching his expression change as he sorts out what heÕs
willing to say to her.
ÒI
think...I think I would have tried to go home with you.Ó
ÒThatÕs
what I think, too.Ó She leans in,
takes his hand, and squeezes it.
ÒWhy do you think I gave you the antitox?Ó
ÒBecause
the thought of sex with me repels you?Ó
She
laughs. ÒNo.Ó Although the fact she
was sleeping with her new captain would have been a reason to say no, but Kirk doesnÕt
need to know that. ÒBecause a
cheater is not what you are, and we both know it.Ó
He
closes his eyes, breathes out as if he expected her to say something else. And then he breathes in, a slow intake,
as if he needed to hear her say exactly this. That heÕs not a cheater. Even though he could have been, so
easily, if sheÕd been unattached and let him have her.
ÒI
couldnÕt let you do it. And it
wasnÕt easy. YouÕre damned attractive,
Jim.Ó She smiles at him in a way
that says maybe, someday, when enough time has gone by...
ÒThank
you, Chris.Ó He smiles back the
exact same way. ÒIÕll miss you.Ó
She
finds that hard to believe since the man doesnÕt really know her. But itÕs part of her exit strategy to
not make waves, so she just nods, makes it a bittersweet movement, an
acknowledgement of what might have been, if only. Then she stands up. ÒWish me well?Ó
ÒAlways,
Chris.Ó He gets up, pulls her in
for a quick hug, parts of him becoming obviously more interested in her, and
then he lets her go, his face a little red.
She
keeps her eyes up and on his face, not giving away that she felt his lack of
control. ÒGoodbye, sir.Ó Then she turns and walks out.
##
Kirk
sits in his quarters, thinking about Lori as he watches the timer he set up on
his terminal slowly run down.
A
soft beep and itÕs done. Their term
marriage is over.
HeÕs
killed them.
But
he also suspects they never had a chance to begin with. And heÕs willing to take the blame for
that. She did everything she could. She didnÕt change—she just wasnÕt
the safety net he thought she would be.
No
one should have to be someoneÕs safety net.
He
hits the comm panel, tells the gamma shift communications
officer—heÕll learn all these peopleÕs names eventually—to get him
Admiral Ciani.
SheÕs
in the office, answers at once. She
is clear eyed, sits straight, every bit the admiral.
ÒHello.Ó He waits.
The
silence is palpable, a living, beating thing, hanging between them on a
connection that is probably more real than anything he let them have while they
were married.
ÒItÕs
done,Ó she finally says. ÒIt ran
out.Ó
ÒI
know.Ó
ÒYou
let it run out.Ó In her voice is a
world of sorrows. And not one bit
of surprise. It changes to
something more accusing, her eyes not so unmoved, when she says, ÒYou didnÕt
even care that I wanted this. We
could have made it work. Plenty of
couples do.Ó
He
looks down. Sees that in his comm box is a note from the magistrate. Lori renewed, but it has to be mutual,
and he didnÕt do it.
He
swallows hard. ÒLori... I...Ó He what? He wants to do it over? How can he? He has a wife: her body is duranium and
her heart is dilithium and she runs at warp speed.
And
she will never, ever let him go.
ÒIÕm
sorry, Lori.Ó
ÒIÕm
sorry, too, Jim.Ó The dignity is
back, the officer he thought could save him, and who will save herself from
him. ÒIÕve got to go. The old man needs me.Ó He thinks he sees something in her eyes,
something that she wants to say, but instead she just smiles, a mysterious
smile, and he wonders if he really knows her, even after more than a year.
ÒOkay.Ó He waits. Watching her. Expecting...what? Love? Gratitude? Anything? ÒWish me well?Ó He realizes heÕs echoed Chapel.
Her
expression wavers for a moment. He
thinks she might finally cry, but she doesnÕt. She raises her head, looks him straight
in the eye, and gives him the old blessing, ÒGodspeed, Jim, and fair winds. May your course always be true.Ó Then she cuts
the connection.
He
sits at his table, his hand on the comm screen, tracing
where her lips were. HeÕs failed
another woman.
Should
he even be surprised at this point?
Under
his feet, he feels the pulsing life force of the Enterprise. He gets up,
leans against the bulkhead, and runs his hand down the viewscreen. He feels her—his ship. His love.
He
hopes to God she wasnÕt tired of him.
That she didnÕt like Will Decker more.
He
hopes, but part of him isnÕt sure.
VI. New Beginnings Redux
Lori
walks into Starfleet Medical, hating the feeling of being trapped by these
damned doctors. She doesnÕt like
being subject to physicals, to someone else determining if she is or isnÕt fit
to lead.
She
hates the psych evals even more. She doesnÕt need a shrink telling her
how sheÕs doing. She knows
herself. Far better, it turns out, than
Jim knew himself, and heÕs apparently fine for duty—despite his inability
to accept what is, if what is involves him actually growing, getting away from
that damned ship.
Jim,
out on the Enterprise again,
breathing in recycled air as if itÕs Nirvana, never knowing he only has it
because of her. That she could have
ripped it away from him, if she were a different kind of person.
Jim, who didnÕt even care enough to check his comms. She
renewed with plenty of time for him to add his signature. He just didnÕt care. Not enough.
She
needs to stop thinking about Jim.
A
nurse takes her to an exam room, tells her to hop up on the diagnostic table,
and wait for the doctor to come in.
Lori ignores her instructions, walks to the window, and looks out on the
view below.
San
Francisco lies spread out before her.
This city—this gorgeous city. Why could Jim never see it? Never appreciate it?
She
hears the door open but doesnÕt turn around. SheÕs an admiral, goddamn it, and
whoever the unfortunate person is who has to be her doctor today is going to
have to work for her cooperation.
ÒAdmiral
Ciani?
IÕm Doctor Chapel.Ó
She
turns, fixes the woman with a gaze that tells her she knows everything
already. ÒReally? I get you?Ó She laughs and
turns back to the view. ÒLet me
guess. You asked for me special
after my former husband booted you off his ship. If youÕre trying to get revenge on him
through me, youÕre way off—he and I didnÕt end well.Ó
ÒSorry,
not after revenge. And for what itÕs
worth, he didnÕt boot me off. I
could have been deputy CMO.Ó Chapel
doesnÕt sound mad, she sounds...amused?
Lori
resists the urge to turn around and study her, but she can hear confidence in
her, despite the fact she hasnÕt been a doctor all that long. ÒNot good enough for you? Being deputy?Ó
ÒI
was supposed to be head of medical on the flagship. What do you think, Admiral?Ó
Lori
hears the sound of a medical scanner starting up, realizes Chapel has started
the exam and is standing behind her, working. ÒBallsy, Lieutenant.Ó
ÒRumor
is you like that. The people youÕve
sponsored seem to have that trait in common.Ó
ÒI
do like that.Ó She turns, and
Chapel keeps working, smiling at her in a way so innocent it has to be fake,
but not annoyingly fake, more comforting, as if there is no other way to smile
right now. ÒIÕm sorry Jim ruined
your plans, Doctor.Ó
ÒWell,
he ruined both our plans, didnÕt he?
Did you envision him leaving you?
Not renewing your marriage?Ó
Lori
lets her eyebrow go up, makes her expression go a little bit dead. This woman is treading on very personal
territory.
Chapel
seems undeterred; the woman has balls to spare. ÒLots of people stay married when one of
the couple ships out. He didnÕt
have to leave you when he left Earth.Ó
She meets LoriÕs eyes. ÒHe
didnÕt have to let me go, either, as his CMO. He didnÕt need McCoy—he wanted him. Just like he wanted space. Everything back
the way it was, right down to Spock at his side.Ó Chapel seems to bite back a bitter
smile. ÒMaybe heÕs other places, too?Ó
Lori
looks down, will not give this woman the satisfaction of seeing how deep that question
hits, that she has taken a moment or two to wonder if Jim left her for space
alone.
ÒI
was in love with Spock, once. He
didnÕt love me back. I always thought
it was because...Ó
Chapel shrugs.
ÒAnyway, IÕm not trying to make you mad. I guess IÕm just trying to say I
understand. That if you need to
vent, IÕd be a sympathetic ear.Ó
She turns off the scanner.
ÒYouÕre fit as a fiddle, Admiral.
But then you donÕt need me to tell you that, do you?Ó
Lori
looks at the table sheÕs never had to get on. ÒThatÕs it?Ó
ÒIÕm
not going to waste your time. IÕve
got what I need.Ó Chapel hops up on
the table, ceding the power in the room so gracefully
Lori is impressed. ÒI would have
been a good CMO.Ó
ÒIÕll
concede you certainly have no problem speaking your mind. Was your heart set on the Enterprise?Ó
ÒNo. There are other billets open. I havenÕt decided whether to go for one
or not.Ó
ÒWhy
not?Ó SheÕs genuinely curious. Lacking bravado doesnÕt seem to be one
of this womanÕs problems.
ÒAdmiral—Captain
Kirk didnÕt want me. Not really a
vote of confidence for the people with open billets, is it?Ó
Lori
laughs. ÒI think some captains
would hire you because of that.
They arenÕt necessarily people IÕd recommend working for, however.Ó She studies Chapel, trying to get a read
on this woman who sheÕs realizing is a bit of a cypher—how many masks
does she wear, how many layers would Lori have to peel to find the real Doctor
Chapel?
SheÕs
clearly ambitious. Not a
problem—Lori likes backing high flyers. SheÕs well spoken—and outspoken,
but she seems to know when to back off and give the power back. SheÕs not afraid to push,
though—the thing about Jim not renewing the marriage was a painful
truth. SheÕll need to speak painful
truths to her captain if sheÕs CMO on another ship.
Lori
decides it would be a shame if she wasnÕt CMO on
another ship. ÒGo for the Mirador.Ó
Chapel
looks thoughtful, as if that might not have been her first choice. ÒWhy?Ó
ÒCaptain
Cartwright is one of my protŽgŽs.
HeÕs a good man and going places.Ó
And heÕll be good for this woman—like Lori,
he takes those he trusts with him as he moves. HeÕs also JimÕs friend, and somehow that
seems right, too. ÒHeÕs a little
obsessed with Klingons, but otherwise you could not do better.Ó
ÒThank
you.Ó ChapelÕs smile is
brilliant. ÒIÕll put my name in the
hat.Ó She slips off the table. ÒFor what itÕs worth, Admiral, I think Jim
Kirk made a huge mistake leaving you behind.Ó
ÒThank
you. And while I wonÕt be taking
you up on that opportunity to vent, I do appreciate the offer.Ó
ÒUnderstood,
sir.Ó
Lori
smiles and heads back to her office.
She checks ChapelÕs file when she gets there, reads it more thoroughly
than she did the first time and sees ChapelÕs impressive resume before she
joined Starfleet, her compressed schedule in medical school, where she
graduated first in a very accomplished class of graduates. SheÕs only a lieutenant but Decker chose
her to be CMO—he must have had his reasons.
Lori
attaches the file to a comm and sends it to
Cartwright with a note saying, ÒSheÕll be applying. I think you should consider her.Ó She doesnÕt expect an answer back. Things donÕt work like that. Jim never seemed to understand the
politics of Command, the intricacies of relationships. Or perhaps he saw how things worked, he just didnÕt want to play. He has his crew and then thereÕs
everybody else.
She
realizes sheÕs not entirely sure which group Chapel fits in, but decides it
doesnÕt matter as she closes down her file.
A
reminder on her calendar pops up, saying JimÕs birthday is in two weeks. She set up the reminder so she wouldnÕt
forget to go shopping, to get him something really special.
But
what could she ever get him that would top the Enterprise?
ÒDelete
reminder. Delete calendar entry
ÔJimÕs Birthday.ÕÓ
ÒReminder
and entry deleted,Ó the computer says.
She
takes a moment, staring out the window at the view, then
she gets back to work.
FIN