DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters
are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc and Viacom. The story contents are the
creation and property of Djinn and are copyright (c) 2004 by Djinn. This story
is Rated PG-13.
Motivational Maneuvers
by Djinn
Chapel looked around the
crowded conference center. She couldn't believe she had to come to this
motivational seminar. She was motivated enough for three people. Working in
Emergency Ops didn't give her any other choice. Do or die. How much more
motivated did a person need to be?
On the other hand, she was
also about ready to transfer out of Emergency Ops, and Cartwright had thought
she should go rub shoulders with the brass and give those who would be fighting
over her an up-close and personal look.
It wasn't necessary. She
already knew what she was going to do. Kirk had asked her to come back to the Enterprise,
and McCoy had followed up with a call of his own. He'd even offered to be her
deputy if she'd just say yes. Of course, she'd said yes—to the deputy position,
she had no desire to be in his job. After two years chasing fires, being deputy
sounded nice and quiet.
She shook her head. What was
it about the Enterprise crew? They just couldn't get enough of each
other during the last two five-year missions? They all had to sign up for more
time in space together? They had to track down their lost lambs like Kirk and
McCoy had done for her? She'd barely announced her intention not to extend in
Emergency Ops for a third year when Kirk's comm had come through.
"God, I hate these
things."
She turned and saw Kirk and
Spock behind her. Spock's expression was neutral, but Kirk looked like he'd
rather walk through coals then be there. He looked
like she felt.
"I didn't know you were
going to be here," she said.
"Neither did we." Kirk
gave her a hug.
"Doctor Chapel,"
Spock said with a pleasant nod.
"Captain Spock."
She glanced at his rank. "It is still captain?"
Before Spock could answer,
Kirk said, "Call him lieutenant. It's what I'm going to bust him down to
for not making up a creative excuse for why we couldn't be here." He
glared at Spock.
Spock didn't look upset. "As
I have indicated, the comm informing us took me by surprise. I did not have
time to assemble a colorful excuse."
"Didn't have to be
colorful. Black and white would have worked. Or the old standby." He
turned to Chapel. "You know it, right?"
She acted like she was
hitting a switch. "Command, we've lost visual." Then she started to
make staticky sounds. "I can't read you. Your signal's breaking up." She
pretended to hit another switch. "Oops, lost them."
He grinned. "See, Spock.
Chris knows."
"Yes, I can see that you
two are well versed in deception. I regret I did not spend more time in Command
when I was an instructor at the Academy. Perhaps I could be as
accomplished."
Chapel laughed. "I think
we've just been insulted."
Kirk made a "so what
else is new?" face.
"If we continue to stand
here debating my merits as a prevaricator, the available seating will be gone,
and we will have to separate." He shot Kirk a stern look. "I know you
do not wish for that to happen." He didn't wait for them as he headed off
to the nearest group of three seats.
They followed him
"Guess he told us,"
Chapel said. "At least he's not going for the seats in the front."
"We had a long talk
about that on the shuttle." Kirk grinned at her as he sat down. "It's
good to see you again."
His grin was infectious. She'd
forgotten that.
"It's good to see
you." She nodded at Spock. "And him."
"How long has it
been?"
"Since what?" She
shot him a look. If he was going to bring up her damned crush, she was going to
slug him, higher rank be damned.
He seemed to be reading her
mind because he rolled his eyes as he said, "Since we've all seen each
other?"
She relaxed. "Oh." At
his look, she laughed softly. "Sorry. Guess I'm a bit sensitive. Seeing
Spock again isn't why I said yes."
"Of course not." He
glanced over at Spock, who seemed to be absorbed in the program. "Although,
he's changed since you knew him. He's warmer."
"Yes," she said,
making a face. "He seems warmer." She rolled her eyes and he laughed.
Spock glanced over at them,
then went back to his program.
Kirk tried to hide a grin. "Well,
he's perhaps overly focused at the moment on our agenda. But he'll warm up,
you'll see." He leaned forward in his seat. "So
when was the last time? The post-Whale Roundup victory party?"
She laughed. "I believe
so. You spent the whole party waiting for Doctor Taylor to show up."
"Well, not the whole
party. Just most of it." He laughed, but there was something else in his
expression. "She'd shipped out. I knew she wasn't going to be there."
"Shipped out?"
He nodded. "She said she
was on a science vessel."
"No, that would be
'Science Vessel.'" At his look of incomprehension, she said, "The
remedial science simulator? She's not going anywhere—or touching any Starfleet
machinery—until she's fully up to speed."
He looked shocked for a
moment, then began to grin. "It's wrong and bad of me, but I suddenly feel
so much better."
"Feeling a little used,
were you?"
"Well, she did convince
me to let her hop to the future on the pretext that the whales needed her, then
she just took off."
Chapel smiled. "She's
still in the bowels of command on her make-believe ship. But she's doing quite
well from what I hear." At his look, she shrugged. "I got to know her
while we were waiting for the hearing. I liked her. Even if she did use
you."
"She was impetuous. It's
not a completely bad trait." He grinned at her again. Then he turned to
look at Spock, rubbing his arm from where the Vulcan had just elbowed him. "What?"
"The first speaker is
about to start."
"Chris and I need to go
to the bathroom." Kirk started to get up but sat down again slowly as
Spock shook his head.
Chapel had no doubt he'd narc
on them to the seminar coordinator if they skipped out, then wondered what the
coordinator could do to them. She leaned in and whispered in Kirk's ear. "Tell
him it's my medical opinion that if we don't go, we might risk bladder damage,
possibly a kidney problem."
He snickered, then fell
silent as Spock glared at him again. The Vulcan turned the glare on her. She
suddenly understood why Kirk minded him.
"I'll be good," she
muttered.
He turned away and she had to
resist the temptation to stick her tongue out at him. She saw Kirk grin, and
wondered if he was fighting the same urge.
The coordinator introduced
the first speaker. She was an admiral. Tough, starchy, and possibly the worst
public speaker Chapel had ever heard. She was so bad she was de-motivational.
Chapel snuck a look at Spock,
who seemed in rapt attention, then pulled out the padd she'd brought to take
notes on. She cleared the screen, called up a special program and slowly tilted
it so Kirk could see it.
"Hangman?" he said
so softly it barely disturbed the air.
She nodded.
He grinned. "E."
She input the letter, ___ ___
___ E ___ ___.
He smiled. "R."
She shook her head; typed the
letter in and a head appeared on the little figure hanging from the tree.
He ran through the most
common consonants, tried a few vowels. Was down to his last foot, when he
picked, "L."
She nodded. ___ ___ L E ___
___.
"What the hell?"
Kirk said, frowning at the screen.
A large, greenish hand
suddenly covered her own, and Spock pulled the padd away from her.
"Busted," Kirk
mouthed, and she tried not to laugh.
She expected Spock to put the
padd away, but instead he input something on the screen and then handed it back
to her. It said, "The word is 'phlegm,' which is, by the way, an excellent
choice for its unusual consonant combination. Now, put the padd away and stop
encouraging him to act up."
She glanced over at Spock. He
nodded toward the padd, and she stuck it back in her pocket. "Spoil
sport," she mouthed at him.
A slow rise of his eyebrow
was her only answer. Sighing, she forced herself to pay attention.
Kirk suddenly leaned in and
whispered in her ear. "So what was the
word?"
She turned to him, her mouth close to his ear. She noticed he smelled good—some
kind of subtle, spicy cologne. "Phlegm," she said.
He gave her an impressed
look, then his mouth was at her ear again. "If that was your opening word,
I'd hate to see what you reach for as your big guns." He pulled away, then
leaned back in. "I like your perfume, by the way." He suddenly
jerked.
"Another elbow?"
she whispered.
He nodded and made a pained
face. "You're sitting in the middle after the break."
"No way in hell,"
she said softly, then pretended to listen to the deadly admiral. For a very,
very long time.
##
Chapel looked at the line for
the bathrooms and laughed. "I told you, Spock, that it was better to get
up in the middle of a boring lecture than wait."
Kirk grinned. He'd snuck out
too, although not when she did. Spock's glare had seen to that.
"I do not understand why
Starfleet would choose such poor speakers for this conference." Spock
appeared to give up on the bathrooms and led them out of the stuffy conference
room onto a large balcony.
"I think it's a Romulan
plot," Kirk said, with a grin. "Bore us to death or maybe make us all
so unmotivated that we quit and go become latinum
miners."
"I've heard there's a
big market in that now." Chapel sat down on the bench that wrapped around
the edge of the balcony. She swung her legs over so she was facing out, over
the gardens, legs swinging free. "This is one pretty place."
Kirk joined her, legs
swinging also, and she laughed. They were like two juvenile delinquents set
loose in an adult world.
"It is pretty. Sin to be
locked inside." He shot her a look.
She knew what he was
thinking. It was a short drop to the gravel path, and then they'd be home free.
Lost among the lovely flowers and liberated from boring speakers.
Spock sighed. "Must I
separate the two of you?"
"You could sit down. Smell
the roses for a moment." Kirk indicated Chapel's other side. "Vacant
seat over there."
She shot him a startled
glance. "Vacant seat over there too," she said pointing next to Kirk.
Spock shook his head, moved
to the far side of the balcony, and sat down, legs facing the correct way.
"What are you
doing?" she said softly to Kirk.
"Me? Nothing. Why?"
"Well, stop doing it. It's
not nothing. It's meddling." She realized she was kicking her legs with a
great deal of gusto.
He put a hand just below her knee
and pressed down gently, slowing one leg at least. "Sorry."
She nodded and forced herself
to let her legs just dangle.
He didn't move his hand.
She looked over at Spock. "Are
you enjoying this?"
"The seminar?"
"No, waiting for the
damn bathroom. Of course, the seminar."
She heard Kirk giggle. There
was no other word for it.
Spock shot her a surprised
look. She'd never spoken to him that way in the past. She really hadn't spoken
to anyone that way. Emergency Ops had been an eye-opening experience, both for
her career and her personality. In that "react now, think later"
environment, sarcasm was a field to be mastered as diligently as medicine had
been. She understood why being a smart-ass had always held such appeal for
McCoy—it was liberating.
"I am not enjoying
this." Spock looked out over the flowers, then back to her. "How did
you make that noise? I will need to know, should I be invited to one of these
in the future."
She and Kirk both made the
crackling "we've got static up the yin-yang" noise. Spock echoed back
a more than creditable version.
"Now, you're getting
it." Kirk smiled at her. "You're a very bad influence, Chris. Who
knew?"
"Me? You started
it." She shrugged. "They could have made this motivational. Either of
you would have been more interesting."
"I am not sure that is a
compliment," Spock said. "I believe a tribble would be a more
interesting lecturer."
She laughed. "Well, who
would you want to hear?"
"Sakoth
has published some groundbreaking work on translinear
physics as it relates to warp drives and subspace."
"ZZZzzzzzzzzzzz,"
Kirk said softly.
Spock didn't miss the sound. "You
have a better suggestion, I presume?"
Kirk shrugged. "Someone
with charisma would be nice."
"Khan perhaps?"
They both shot a look at
Spock.
He was unperturbed, just went
on with his list. "Garth? Gill? Karidian?"
"Why is it the people
with the most charisma turn out to be evil megalomaniacs?" Chapel looked
at Kirk. "Are you going to turn evil?"
"Are you saying I have
charisma?"
She laughed. "You know
you do."
He made a happy "what
can you do?" face. "Yeah, I think after lunch I may turn evil."
"Does that mean we go
from being sidekicks to henchmen? Or would I be a henchwoman? That sounds
odd."
"What is a hench?"
Kirk asked. "Is there a verb 'to hench'?"
"It probably is related
to hengest. Horse. As in a groom or page." Spock
rose. "The line has dissipated somewhat." He headed off to the
bathroom.
They watched him go.
"He knows the strangest
things," Chapel said, then she smiled. "And I can't say he's exactly
bubbling over with that warmth you mentioned."
"Give him time." Kirk
seemed to suddenly realize he still had his hand on her leg, had in fact moved
it up a bit to sit on her knee. He pulled it away suddenly.
She grinned at him and tried
to show him no harm, no foul.
He grinned back and seemed to
relax. "You should have seen him right after the Fal-tor-Pan."
"Gave stiff a bad
name?"
"And then some." He
shook his head, his grin fading. "I wasn't sure the Spock I knew was ever
coming back."
"But he did." She
smiled softly. "He always comes back to you. He loves you."
Kirk's face lost all
expression.
"Hey, that's not a bad
word. He does love you, you know that."
He nodded. "I
just..." He exhaled loudly. "There are some who think..."
She smiled, shook her head. "That
you two are lovers. Yeah, I know. I used to wonder about it myself. Why does it
bother you?"
He turned to look at her, a
retort obviously ready, but then seemed to realize she was serious, not teasing
him. "He's my best friend. I would die for him. He has died for me. What
more is there to say? Why does it have to be about sex?" He shook his head.
"I didn't mean to snap."
"You didn't snap." She
realized there was no one else left on the balcony. "Seminar's
started."
"I know." He didn't
move.
"You don't want to go
back in?"
"Do you?"
"No. But Spock'll hunt us down." She grinned. "And make us
pay."
He looked down at where her
hand was covering his. "He was an idiot."
She sighed and pulled her
hand away. "Could you please let that drop? It's over."
"You don't have feelings
for him? You're mocking him pretty intensively."
"McCoy does that too. Are
you saying he'd like to jump Spock's bones?"
Kirk shrugged and gave her a
silly smile. "Maybe."
She laughed. "I don't
have feelings for him. Okay?"
"Okay." He swung
his legs around and got up.
She followed suit. They snuck
back into the room, which had been darkened to show some strange picture of
abstract art—or maybe it was a disassembled warp core. The speaker sounded like
he'd taken training in how to drone. And done well at the training. In fact, he
could teach the class.
"Once more into the
breach," Kirk muttered, as he led her to their seats.
##
Chapel took another sip of her
drink, following Kirk and Spock into the lounge. Dinner had been long, and the
special guest speaker had been so dull that one of the older attendees had
fallen asleep in her soup and nearly drowned. Chapel had been worried she'd be
called upon to do emergency measures. But another doctor had stepped in.
The food had been awful too. Dry
chicken filled with something...brownish-green. Salad that looked like it had
been fresh during Cochrane's time. And desert that she thought was supposed to
be a soft brownie—or maybe exceptionally hard chocolate pudding.
Fortunately, the bread had
been all right. She'd made a meal of it. Good thing too. Or the highball she
was drinking would be going right to her head.
The lounge was bigger than
she expected. And there was a large dance floor. People were dancing to
recorded music. She looked around the room and saw Kirk do the same.
He drained his scotch then
set it on the bar. "Wish me luck," he said as he winked at her,
striding into the crowd toward an unattached woman. He wove a bit—he hadn't
stocked up on bread.
She looked over at Spock. He
looked very uncomfortable.
"He did it again,"
she muttered to herself. "I'll kill him."
Spock turned to her, a
quizzical look on his face.
"Matchmaker Tiberius."
Spock's expression lightened.
"His efforts seemed to be in that direction. I was hoping I was
mistaken."
"Oh, no. He's playing
yenta." She glanced at him; he seemed to know the reference. "Just
for the record, you're safe from me."
"That is good to know. However,
I do not feel in danger."
She laughed. "Well,
that's a switch." She sipped her drink. "I don't suppose you
dance?"
"I do not."
She smiled. "I bet you
can though. Amanda probably made you go to ballroom-dance class, where all the
Vulcan boys made fun of you after school. They taunted you with cries of, 'Your
intelligence is substandard, and your mother dresses you funny.'"
He actually looked amused. "You
have a vivid imagination, Doctor."
"It's true. I do." He'd
be embarrassed if he knew just how vivid. He'd once been a favorite fantasy. Thank
God that was in the past.
"Do you enjoy
dancing?"
She nodded.
"There is a definite
imbalance in the male-female ratio. I am sure someone will ask you momentarily."
"Yeah, I noticed that
imbalance. Not sure what it says for Starfleet promotion policy, but it
definitely means I'll be a popular girl tonight." She turned to him. "But
only if you go away. Nobody is going to ask me while I'm talking to you."
"I can leave?" He
looked so hopeful, she burst out laughing. Quite a few heads turned.
"Yes, you can go. I'll
see you tomorrow."
He nodded. "Thank you,
Christine."
"You're welcome,
Spock."
She saw him find Kirk in the crowd, his eyes were thoughtful...concerned even.
"I'll make sure he
doesn't turn into a pumpkin."
He nodded. "His
conviviality these days is often forced."
She took that in. "David?"
She'd heard the tragic story from Uhura.
He nodded. "David. My
death and the stress of the retraining. McCoy's mental imbalance when he
carried my katra. The destruction of the ship. The
new ship—it has been slightly disappointing in its performance, I think. My
brother did not help matters."
"So—all of it."
He nodded. "He is
depressed, I think."
They both turned to look at
him. Kirk was laughing at something a pretty redhead had said; he swung her in
the dance and they both laughed again.
"Yes, he looks like the
poster child for depression."
"We both know that
depression can be masked. And Jim is quite skilled at hiding what he
feels."
She nodded. He was right. Depression
could be masked, and if anyone could do it, it would be James "I'm having
the time of my life" Kirk.
"I'll look out for him,
Spock."
"Thank you. Enjoy
yourself, Doctor."
"You too. With your
meditation or whatever?"
He didn't answer, just shot
her a gentle glare and left.
It took about thirty seconds
for her to get an invitation to dance. As she switched partners, enjoying the
opportunity to mingle and dance, she realized she knew a good number of the
people in the room. Many of them were men and women who'd stopped into Ops
during some crisis or other. She relaxed and enjoyed the warmth of this distant
intimacy.
"May I cut in?"
Kirk asked her latest partner, a rather charming lieutenant commander.
"Of course, sir." He
smiled at her then let her go.
"I left you with
Spock."
"Yes, you did."
"And
where is he?"
"He was so unhappy that I
couldn't keep him in captivity any longer. So I took
him outside and set him free." She tried to keep a straight face.
He burst out laughing and his
hands tightened on her. "So if I want my first
officer back, I have to go out on safari?"
She nodded. "Vulcan net
in hand. Calling, 'Spock! Spock!' until he comes to you out of love rather than
fear and obligation."
"You've watched a few
too many nature specials."
"Or read far too many of
the old classics. Born Free. Thunderhead. White Fang." She laughed, enjoying
the way he held her. Such assurance. He was a good dancer.
"I used to read
those." He smiled. "I used to read anything I could get my hands
on."
"Me too."
They danced in silence for a
while, then he pulled her close and she laid her head on his shoulder.
"You did it again,
didn't you, Cupid?" She could feel him laugh. "Stop with the
matchmaking. Even Spock is on to your clever scheme."
He pulled away enough to see
her face. "And is he upset?"
"Well, he's not turning
cartwheels."
He pulled her closer. "His
loss then."
She smiled because he finally
sounded like he might leave it alone. "So, how are you?"
She thought she felt him
tense.
"Are you feeling all
right?" she asked.
"Depends on who's
asking. My new deputy CMO? Or Chris, this lovely woman I'm dancing with."
"I'm not sure you can
separate the two."
He sighed. "That's too
bad." He started to pull away as the music ended. "Doctor, thank you
for the dance."
She didn't let go and saw his
eyes narrow in surprise. She was a lot stronger than she looked. Nurse's hands—used
to dealing with difficult patients, or just unconscious ones who needed to be
moved. "Sir, please."
"You can call me
Jim."
She smiled, easing him back
into the dance as the music started up again. "Really?" He'd never
invited such familiarity in the past. Even when she'd been his deputy CMO the
first time, she'd never been part of his inner circle. Had never actually
wanted to be.
Until now. She was enjoying
his inner circle. He was fun. Hell, even Spock was fun when he was around Kirk.
"Really," he said,
pulling her closer.
They danced through several
more songs. She noticed no one tried to cut in.
##
Spock was thumbing through
the program.
"Anything good?"
Kirk asked. He closed his eyes as he rubbed his temples. He looked like he had
a bad case of too little food and too much scotch from the night before.
"That would depend on
your definition of good." Spock put the program away. "It looks much
like yesterday's agenda."
"That's tragic,"
Chapel said, handing Kirk two pills. "Here."
He shot her a look. "Antitox?"
"Don't leave home
without them."
He smiled. "You need
them a lot, do you?"
She shrugged. "Command
parties get pretty wild. Surely you remember?"
He nodded.
"When you're on call
twenty-four/seven, you need to be able to sober up almost instantly." She
sighed. "Not the best way to live, but it cuts down on hangover
time."
He took the pills and washed
them down with his coffee. "Thanks."
"Sure." She glanced
at him when she realized he was staring at her. "What?"
"You know you could do a
lot better than deputy CMO on the Enterprise, right?"
She nodded. "But
frankly, I'm tired. And I'd like to come home."
It was the right thing to
say. His smile was very big. Spock shot her an approving glance—she hadn't
realized he was listening in.
"And home is ready to
welcome you back, Chris."
She smiled but couldn't say
more since the coordinator got up and bored them for about fifteen minutes with
administrivia. Then the first speaker rose. She had potential, started out
interesting, but about midway through, Chapel was dozing. Maybe she should have
taken some of those antitox for herself?
She felt something being
pushed into her hands and realized it was Kirk's coffee. Smiling at him, she
took a large sip. Caffeine. Caffeine was good. She wasn't sure if he wanted it
back, but he took the cup from her, took another sip, then slipped it back in
her hand. He winked at her as he turned back to the speaker and pretended to
fall asleep.
She had to work hard to
stifle her giggle.
The next speaker made the
ones who had come before seem positively brilliant. It wasn't just his subject
matter; his delivery was so stilted and slow that Chapel wanted to fill in his
words for him.
She was trying to do that in
her head, making it a game, when she heard Kirk mutter, "Get the
hook."
She had a sudden vision of
the speaker being hooked off the stage like in an Academy talent show. She
started to laugh, trying desperately not to make a sound. It hurt, hurt badly
to stifle her giggles. She couldn't stop her upper body from shaking. She
looked down, at the floor, at the back of the chair in front of her—anywhere
but at Kirk.
She could feel his shoulder
shaking where it touched hers. He was laughing too.
She leaned down and began to
run through all the horrible diseases she could think of, calling up symptoms
disgusting enough to make her stop laughing. It worked.
Until she looked back at him.
He actually sputtered
slightly. Spock just sighed.
She turned back to staring at
the chair in front of her. Began to run through the effects of bubonic plague. Finally,
she felt the inappropriate hysteria subside.
This time, she didn't look at
Kirk.
On the break, as she stood,
she heard a man behind Spock tell the Vulcan, "Better not bring those two
next time."
Spock just nodded.
She turned, and the man
behind them winked.
It was Commander Riffick from Supply. "Hello, Christine."
"Tom." He was
friends with Cartwright. Fortunately for her, he also had a very good sense of
humor.
Kirk turned to see who it
was. He grinned. "Thomas, you old space dog. We were on our best behavior.
You saw nothing."
"Fine, I'll be part of
the conspiracy. I saw nothing." Riffick smiled. "How
the hell are you, Jim? I would have said hello, but you and Christine seemed a
little preoccupied." He winked at her again.
She hooked a thumb at Kirk. "It's
his fault. I was listening raptly until he made a snarky comment."
Kirk made a disbelieving
face. "Me?"
Riffick laughed. "Face of a freakin'
angel. Nice to know time hasn't taken away your ability to get out of trouble,
Jim."
"Man will be eighty and
charming his way out of situations," Chapel said.
Kirk just laughed.
Riffick looked at Spock. "How do you put up with these
two?"
"We all have our crosses
to bear, Commander."
Riffick laughed. "Oh, I can see Jim's rubbed off on
you."
"It is possible. Cross-cultural
contamination is always a danger in these situations."
Chapel smiled. Maybe Spock
had warmed up a bit. Certainly this seemed to be a
Spock more at ease with himself than she'd ever seen. Dying had apparently
agreed with him.
Riffick held up his empty cup. "I've got to get more of
this if I want to stay awake until lunch." He turned to go, then looked
back. "There's a pool going, by the way. Name the mystery desert from
yesterday's dinner. Just so you know, 'big pile of goo" is mine." He
winked at them and walked away.
Kirk pretended to pout. "Damn
it. I wanted 'big pile of goo.'"
"You snooze, you lose,"
she said.
"I'll get some coffee
while there's still time." Kirk took the cup from her. She was surprised
to see him come back with just the one.
"I can't have one of my
own?" she asked, as she took the cup from him and sipped.
He smiled, but his eyes
weren't amused. They were intense. "Did you want one of your own?" He
leaned in and said very softly, "I got the impression you were enjoying
sharing."
His breath on her ear
tickled, and she pulled away. He was smiling again, the intensity gone. Maybe
she'd imagined it?
"Sharing's good."
"Your preschool teacher
would be so proud." He winked at her, then sat down.
She sat down too.
Spock leaned over him. "Doctor,
do you still have that pad?"
She nodded.
"Perhaps hangman would be
a more beneficial pastime than nearly injuring yourself from trying not to
laugh?"
She grinned. "Are you
saying you're bored and want to play too?"
He took a deep breath, then
nodded tightly.
Kirk looked at him.
"Spock? Really?"
"I believe that question
has been asked and answered, Jim."
Kirk laughed, glanced at her.
"A very bad influence," he muttered.
She gave him her best
innocent look. "I learned it all from you." She pulled out the padd. "Besides,
he's going to wipe the floor with us. You do know that?"
"I don't know. I
wouldn't want to bet against our collective brain power."
She smiled. He was right. They
were all pretty damn smart.
Only, if that was true, why
were they all still sitting in this stupid conference room?
Sheep. They were pretty damn
smart...sheep.
##
Chapel pushed the food around
her plate. She was being charitable calling it food. It looked more like a
science experiment gone horribly wrong. She lifted the fork to her nose amd took a tentative sniff. No smell. None of it had any
odor at all.
She put her fork down. "I
don't know about the rest of you, but there's a snack shop in the basement that
sells all kinds of processed foods. Any of which is probably healthier than
this. Who's game?"
Both Kirk and Spock followed
her out. In fact, a steady stream of people seemed to be fleeing the ballroom
in which the lunch tables had been set up.
They hurried downstairs. Kirk
and she helped themselves to pre-packaged food that had no nutritional value
but at least tasted good. She sensed someone next to her and looked up to see
Spock.
"I am at a bit of a
loss," he said softly.
She noticed his hands were empty,
took pity and led him to a refrigerator tucked in the back of the small shop. "Every
snack shop has one of these. The last bastion of health. Remember that, all
right?"
He nodded. "It is
generally hidden?"
"Damn straight. Hell of a lot less margin on these." She opened the
door. "Fruit sound good? Hey, look. Even salad." She bent down, found
one that actually looked fresh and handed it to him. "You like
dressing?" She studied the choices, finally handed him the simplest one.
He nodded approval. "Thank
you."
"Oldest of four kids. I'm
good at putting lunches together on the fly."
"My brother used to make
me lunch..." Spock looked down.
"I was so surprised to
hear about that. All those years, and you never mentioned him."
"It is complicated."
"It seems like
everything Vulcan is." She smiled. "Did you miss him when he went
away?"
He nodded. "But it was
not something that I allowed myself to dwell on."
She smiled. "I
understand."
He looked up at the counter
where Kirk was buying his food. "Do you understand now what I was saying
about him?"
"I'm seeing a little of
it."
Spock shot her a look that
could only be considered amused. "You are seeing some other interesting
aspects of him as well, I think."
She laughed. "Now who's
the yenta?"
"I would like to see him
happy. He is a man of deep emotion. Emotion that has very little outlet."
"I'm not sure I'm the
proper outlet, Spock. I will be working for him."
"I am aware of that. But
you have, without question, grown into a strong personality, one who will not
be subsumed by him. Moreover, you are in an almost independent role on the
ship. You and McCoy are the only two who can relieve him without prior
authorization."
"Spock, aren't you
putting the cart before the horse? We're just having fun."
"Of course, Doctor. However,
if your equine should appear, then you will know how I view this."
She chuckled. "He's the
captain. He may not be my boss, but he can influence my boss." She thought
about McCoy. "Well, he can try to influence my boss."
"I doubt that he'd get
very far. With either Doctor McCoy, or with your section head."
"That would
be you?"
He nodded.
"Why are you doing
this?"
"He is lonely." For
a moment, Spock seemed to drop his barriers, and Chapel saw the naked concern
on his face. "Very lonely."
"And you think I'm the
ideal fix?" She shook her head. "I could really do with two less
yentas. But I appreciate your concern for him." She walked up to where
Kirk stood.
He was eyeing the pork rinds.
"Which food group do those fit into?"
"Oily air, I
believe." She laughed. "Or is that one of the four elements."
"Both, I think." He
laughed and held up his bounty. "I haven't had this much junk food since
finals at the Academy."
"Last year of graduate
school. I lived on caffeine and salt." She sensed Spock coming up behind
them. "Our Vulcan friend here never had that problem."
Spock ignored her, just edged
her gently out of the way with his shoulder and paid for his lunch.
"He's ignoring
you," Kirk said in a stage whisper.
Chapel studied Kirk. Was he
lonely? His eyes were sparkling as he teased his best friend. But he was good
at hiding things.
She wasn't sure how she felt
about being the prescription for whatever sad things he was feeling. It was a
little unflattering that Spock thought she'd be an answer just because she was
in a good position to do it. What happened to attraction, to mutual interests? To
chemistry?
Kirk bumped up against her. "You
going to the bar tonight? After dinner?"
She nodded. "Why?"
"I thought we could
dance." He shrugged and gave her an innocent smile. "If you
want?"
She did want to but suddenly
everything seemed a lot less fun. She moved away from them, suddenly feeling
confined by their bulk pressing in on other side of her.
"Chris?"
"I'm going outside to
eat. I need some me time." She hurried out the door and into the garden. It
wasn't until she found a hidden grotto and settled in to eat that it occurred
to her she was running away.
It had been a long time since
she'd felt the need to do that.
She didn't like herself much
for her cowardice.
##
The next session was only
mildly boring. One speaker even achieved interesting for a few minutes before
sinking down again into mediocrity.
She looked over at Kirk. He
gave her a puzzled smile, then turned back to the speaker.
At the break, she stopped at
the refreshment table, then walked over to where he stood, holding out a soft
drink. She smiled at him. "One glass. Truce?"
He smiled back as he took a
sip of the drink. "Truce." He moved her away from the rest. "Maybe
after dinner you can tell me what we need a truce for?"
She gave a bitter little
laugh. "That'll be a fun conversation."
He shook his head, a sad
expression on his face. "It would have been yesterday. Today, I'm not so
sure." He gave her back the glass then walked over to their seats.
Spock came up.
"Don't start with
me," she said, giving him her best "I've been on duty for thirty-six
hours and I'll take none of your bullshit" voice.
"I was under the
impression you could make Jim happier than he was. Had I known the reality, I might not have encouraged you."
"Might not? How about would
not?"
He gave her an odd look. "That
is not certain." He sighed. "I am sorry I interfered."
"Join the club."
He stared at her for a long
moment, as if trying to figure out what to say to her. Then he seemed to give
up and went to join Kirk.
She took a deep breath.
"Christine?"
It was Riffick.
"Tom."
"I heard you accepted a
position on the Enterprise?"
She nodded.
"I guess supply might
seem pretty dull compared to that?" He leaned in. "I don't know if
you know this, but I'm retiring in a few months. I'd love to recommend you for
the post. A lot of people think supply's boring, but it's not."
She smiled. "Boring's
okay, actually."
He studied her. "You're
burnt out, aren't you?"
She laughed. Nobody else
seemed to realize that. The view must be better from supply. "Yeah, I'm
burnt out. I'm beyond burnt out. I'm charcoal."
He laughed. "That job
would kill me. I don't see how you've done it for as long as you have. Takes a
special kind, I guess."
"Or a total
nutcase."
He shook his head. "You're
never that. Think about supply, all right? Nothing's set in stone yet." He
looked over at Kirk and Spock. "Although, you sure do seem to be having
fun with them. I guess it's like old home week for you?"
"I guess so." In
ways both pleasant and not so.
She refilled her drink, then
wandered back to her seat. Kirk smiled at her as he took the glass from her and
drank. The playfulness was missing this time. His smile was sad.
She'd made him sad. Spock was
right. Damn Spock, why was he right?
She followed them into dinner
when the session finally ended. The food was actually good. She could hear
murmurs of surprise from the tables around them.
Kirk grinned. "Now this
is more like it."
Even Spock was able to find
something he could eat. He dug in like a starving man.
Chapel wished she had more
appetite as she ended up pushing her food around on her plate. She was glad to
let the waiter take it away.
Kirk leaned over to her. "Do
you want to get out of here?"
She nodded.
He smiled at the rest of the
table. "If you'll excuse us." He shot a look at Spock. "See you
in the morning?"
"Of course, Jim. Enjoy
your evening." Spock turned to her, his
expression seemed to hold a warning. "Doctor."
"Spock."
They walked out to the garden,
and she led Kirk to the grotto she'd found. "This is where I was
today."
He sat down in the bench,
under the overhang that had hidden her from the world. "This is pretty. I
can see why you'd like it." He seemed content to just sit.
She knelt down in front of
the pool of water and let her fingers drag through it. It was colder than she
expected. "I spazzed today."
"Spazzed?"
She laughed. "It's a
word we use in Ops. An old word, but apt. It's when you react stupidly or
inappropriately. Maybe both?" She grinned at him, didn't feel as though it
came out as any more than half-hearted. "And it's irritating because back
in Ops, I have one of the lowest spaz quotients."
He laughed.
She laughed too. "I'm
sorry I ran off."
He shrugged, but she saw his
mouth tighten. "It's all right. I'm getting used to women running away
from me."
She stood up and walked over
to the bench. "I wasn't running away from you."
He turned red, then laughed—a
short, tight laugh. "Well, that's embarrassing. How egotistical am
I?" He shook his head. "So you were running
away from Spock?"
She sat down next to him and
let her shoulder rub against his. "No. I don't mean that either." She
sighed. "I think I was running away from...me."
He didn't say anything,
didn't turn to look at her. They sat in silence, watching a night bird as it
flew across the water.
Finally, he said, "Why
do you want to come home, Chris?"
She took a deep breath. "Because
I'm lonely."
She glanced at him. He was shaking
his head slightly.
She pushed harder against his
shoulder. "And I think you're lonely too, aren't you?"
"Yep," he said. She
wondered if that was a good sign or a bad one that he didn't even try to hide
the truth from her.
"And we're having fun. So
much fun. And Spock is pushing me toward you."
He looked at her. "He's
pushing you too?"
She nodded. "And I
thought you were a meddler." She leaned back. "This job...it's been
the best thing I've ever done. It's challenged me and it's made me strong and
made me think quicker on my feet than I've ever had to do. But I'm tired, Jim. I'm
so damned tired. I want to go to bed and not be woken up two hours later by the
next emergency when I haven't even recovered from the last one yet. I want to
be able to plan a little bit, not just react. Over and over."
"That is the nature of
an emergency."
"Oh, I know. If you
could plan for it, it wouldn't be an emergency." She sighed. "I'm
just...tired. Of all of it."
"Do you have any friends
there?"
She looked at him. "I
do. But they're odd friends. You bond with people over whatever crisis you're
working on. But then it's over and they move on, and you're still there. And
you bond with the next group of people that rush in with some dire
emergency." She sighed. "I think some of us, after a while, just get
wary. We only extend ourselves so far. Because we know people leave, they move
on. They don't look back."
"Except on the Enterprise."
"Except on the Enterprise."
She smiled. "I still see Nyota when she's in town. And Len. Sulu comes by,
Scotty. Even Chekov and Jan stop by."
"I notice two names
missing from that list."
"I think we both know
why Spock isn't on that list. And you and I were never friends."
"No, we weren't."
She didn't like the
resignation in his voice. "You were good to me. I respected you. I liked
you. I loved serving under you. You're a good man. And a great captain. But I
don't know you. And you don't know me."
He didn't say anything. Not
to agree and also not to contradict. He didn't move at all.
She pushed her shoulder into
him, trying to give him something back. "And that's what I'm afraid of,
Jim. That despite that, I'll run right to you. And you'll run right to me. Because
we're two lonely, burnt out people who are having a wonderful time
together." She looked at him. "Because you're handsome and warm, and
I want you. I do. But I don't know you."
He turned to look at her. "You're
right. You're absolutely right."
"If I thought this was
just a temporary duty thing, then I wouldn't spaz." She smiled, and him
smiled too. They both knew what she meant. Sex like that was easy when you were
never going to see the person again. What was the old saying? What goes on
temporary duty stays on temporary duty.
"And we'd be two happy
people," he said. "If it was temporary duty. We're clicking here,
Chris. I may not know you, but I do like you."
"I know. I like you
too." She stroked his hand a little more firmly. "And you're right. It
would be fun. Only smart people are funny, and smart people are good in
bed."
He laughed. "That's
true, isn't it?"
She leaned back, pulling her
fingers away from his hand.
He sighed. Then he reached
over and took her hand in his. Held it. "I am lonely." He laughed
softly. "Spock made it all sound so reasonable. You, on the ship, not a
problem."
"Yeah, he's quite the
salesman." She looked down at his hand. It felt so good on hers. So human,
so warm—a connection. She laid her other hand over his. "Maybe I shouldn't
take the position? If I go inside now, I bet I could still land a new job in no
time flat."
"I imagine you
could." His grip tightened on her.
She wondered if he was even aware he was doing it.
"Maybe it would be
better." she said.
He turned to look at her. "Maybe
it wouldn't." His expression was calm, his eyes narrowed slightly, as if
he was thinking everything out. "Maybe you need to come home, Chris."
"I don't know."
"You say you don't know
me. And that I don't know you. Well, that's true. So, Doctor Chapel, how do we
remedy that? You're acting like the only answer is to walk away. To leave it
like that. I think there's another way. How do we do that? How do we get to
know each other?" His tone was different, the old Kirk, the schemer, the
one who never gave up.
She could feel a smile
growing. "I guess it would help if we were on the same ship?"
He grinned. "Yes, that
would definitely be a good start." His smile faded as he looked at her
searchingly. "Do you really think I'm still handsome. I'm old,
Chris."
She laughed. "Aren't we
all? And you're not old, you're older. There's a difference."
He smiled, but only part way.
"You didn't answer the question."
"Oh, the handsome
part?" At his nod, she smiled. "Well, you're more handsome than a
Tiberian bat."
He glared at her.
"Okay. Definitely better
looking than a Ferengi."
His expression was stern.
"Not the right answer,
huh?" She smiled. "You've always been one of the most handsome men
I've ever seen. And you still are."
He smiled. Then his smile
faded. "I may be handsome, but you preferred Spock all those years."
"Like you cared." She
laughed. "Besides, he had that whole Vulcan mystique thing going. Mind
melds, mysterious rituals, total disinterest in me, that kind of thing. What
can I say? I was a masochist."
"I think maybe there's a
part of him that is interested in you."
"Oh, please."
He laughed. "No, I'm
serious. I can't imagine him steering someone my way who he didn't find
attractive on some level."
"He knows you well
enough to know what you'd find attractive." She laughed. "That's sort
of funny. I never really thought of myself as someone you'd find attractive. It's
the smart-ass thing, isn't it?"
"It is pretty
sexy."
She laughed.
They sat again, silence
growing around them. A comfortable silence.
"So
you'll choose the Enterprise?" he asked.
"It'll be hard to give
up a career in supply, but I'll come aboard."
He laughed. "Good."
She turned to look at him. His
eyes looked dark in the dusky light, not golden as they had all day. "So,
Captain Kirk, where do we go from here?"
"Well, Doctor Chapel, we
can either stroll through these lovely gardens and talk, or we can go back in
and dance. Or mingle, if you're getting sick of me."
"I'm not getting sick of
you."
"Well, that's a
relief." He smiled, a silly smile. Not sad at
all.
"A stroll would be
nice." She started to get up.
He pulled her down and moved
toward her as she fell back, his arms wrapping around her, his lips on hers. She
was too startled to resist, then too turned on to.
He was a great kisser.
He finally pulled away. She
laughed at the mischievous look on his face. The kid caught with his hand in
the cookie jar—totally unrepentant.
"And what was
that?"
"That, Chris, was a
kiss." He stood and pulled her up after him, tucking her hand over his
arm. "Surely, you've heard of those."
"I have. I thought they
came later? Once we get to know each other."
His grin just grew wider. "They
do. Can I help it if I wanted a preview? Man's gotta
know what he's waiting for."
"And do you think it'll
be worth it."
He laughed and pulled her in
a little closer. "Oh, yes." He looked at her sideways. "You do
agree?"
She sighed. Dreamily. Dramatically.
Pretended to swoon.
"I'll take that as a
yes."
They walked slowly, savoring
the rich fragrances of the plants that bloomed at night. She heard people up
ahead, and turned them down another path.
"Feeling
antisocial?" he asked.
"Don't feel like sharing
you."
His soft exhalation was like
a laugh. "Wonderful answer."
"Just the truth." She
put her other hand on his arm and squeezed gently. "Why do you keep going
back to the Enterprise?"
"She's home. She's mine.
She's where I belong. And I hate everywhere else I've tried."
"But you have to admit, the
Command parties are much better than those on the ship."
He seemed to be trying to
hide a smirk. "Maybe."
"You know it's a
legend...that dance you did. On the bar, at the officer's club. With Admiral
Cranston's wife."
He flinched. "That was
thirteen years ago."
"Yes, that's why it's a
legend, silly. It endures."
"Right." He smiled.
"Would I hear any stories about you if I asked?"
"Nope. Not a one. I was
a very good girl."
He shot her a look.
"Well, there was this
incident involving a pool table and a lampshade, but I've been advised by my
attorneys not to discuss it."
He laughed. "We have a
pool table on the ship. I could order in a lampshade."
"Don't you dare."
He grinned then sighed, but
it was a contented sound, not sad. "This is nice."
"Yes. It is."
"Do they ever talk about
an incident involving a hose from hydroponics and vodka shots?"
She shook her head. "I
don't believe I've heard that one."
"Good. You won't hear it
from me."
She bumped up against him. "No
fair. You can't bring it up and then not explain."
"Sure
I can. Unless you have something just as interesting to trade. Like say a story
about a pool table and a lampshade?"
"You drive a very hard
bargain."
He grinned and touched her
cheek for a moment, his fingers lingering on her face before he let them fall
away. "I know."
She smiled.
His expression turned stern,
captain-like. "Now spill. I want names, dates—vids if you have them."
"It's
embarrassing."
"The best Command party
stories are. You want to hear about that hose, you'll start singing."
"You don't want me to
sing. Believe me, you don't want me to ever sing."
"Well, I guess I'll find
things like that out, won't I?"
She smiled. He was so nice to
her. So interested. She realized she felt the same way
about him. Interested. And she wanted to be nice, wanted to let him in.
"I guess you will."
As they walked off into the darkness,
she began to let him in.
It felt good. Like coming
home.
Finally.
FIN