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) 2003 by Djinn. This
story is Rated R.
Remembered
by Djinn
The halls of Starfleet
Medical are crowded. So
many people. Christine swallows,
fighting down panic. She is not used to
crowds anymore, didn't have to deal with this many people when she and Jim and
Spock were stranded on the icy world they eventually dubbed
Living on that world, focused
only on survival, she nearly forgot what a crowd felt like. She settled in and accepted the harsh life
that faced them. And then they were
rescued--Starfleet finally found them.
Pure accident as it turned out, but the end result was the same. They were at last free of the frozen planet
that had been their entire world. Taken
away in a small ship to be examined by Starfleet medical: she was released, Jim
and Spock held for observation for radiation and exposure, respectively. She never expected to turn out to be the
hardy one. She also never expected to
wind up here, starting med school after giving up on her dream once they crash
landed on
The two men she thought loved
her. Christine sighs. They did love her. On
She has not heard from either
of them.
"Lieutenant
Chapel?"
The rank still throws
her. She didn't expect to be promoted. She suspects that Jim or Spock or possibly
both of them have put in a good word for her.
She can't decide if it pleases her they might have thought of her, or
disturbs her that they might have done it to buy her silence.
Which is
unnecessary. She won't betray them; she loves them.
"Lieutenant
Chapel?" the man repeats.
She turns to him. "Yes?"
He is a younger man, also a
lieutenant. "Is it true you were
marooned with Captain Kirk?" His
eyes shine.
She can't decide if he's
suffering from a bad case of hero worship or more garden-variety lust. "I'm sorry, I can't talk. I'm late." She's not sorry, but she is in danger of being
late.
She hurries on, hears him run
to catch up.
"I'll walk with
you."
She checks her schedule, sees
she's walked past her classroom. She
doubles back, ignoring the young man.
Mercifully, he doesn't follow her into the room. She chooses a desk near the middle, hopes the
instructor has not assigned seats, hopes that she won't be asked to move.
It's odd. On
She wishes Jim were
here. He would make her laugh, get her confidence up with a pep talk. Or Spock would make her feel better by simply
resting his hand on her cheek and saying, "You will be fine. I have faith in you."
But they are not here. Or at least she hopes they are not on
Earth. She can't bear the thought they
might be here and not want to see her.
Even if she knows it is
exactly what will happen eventually.
She'll run into them, walking down the hall, or maybe in the
cafeteria. They'll be circumspect. She can't imagine Jim allowing them to be
anything else. But they'll be together.
Without
her.
When she is especially sad,
she wonders if they were just including her because they were too kind to
leave her out when there was no one else.
Back among the living, they obviously have no such compunction.
She almost laughs and one of
the students filing in gives her an odd look.
She smiles brightly, her best friendly expression and he seems to
relax.
"I'm new. Are the seats assigned?" she asks.
"No, you're fine,"
he says.
If he only knew how not fine
she is. She will be fine...in time. But now? Now it just hurts.
Like it hurts every time she
walks into her bedroom and sees the huge bed she bought when she first got
back. She was so sure they would need
it.
They never came by.
They don't want her anymore.
But they wanted her then, on
She remembers how Jim walked
into the cave one day, back from another check on the markers he left near the
site where their shuttle had exploded.
He had fresh kill slung over his shoulder so he only came as far as the
cave entrance. Christine was sitting
astride Spock, and they moved slowly, sensuously together, taking their
time. Jim's long exhale as he watched
them made her turn, made Spock look over.
"You're back," she
said with a smile, never stopping her slow movement.
Spock did not stop either,
his hands moving over her back.
"You did not stay too long?"
The area was still full of radiation.
"Long enough to know
that no one has been by," Jim said.
Neither she nor Spock said
anything. There was nothing to say.
Jim finally said, "I
just worried when I didn't see you out front, Christine. Silly of me." His expression lightened and he winked at
them both. "Carry on."
Spock's expression was almost
amused as he did just that, pulling her closer to him for a kiss.
Days later, she walked in on
the two of them sleeping, limbs tangled, Jim's hair still sweaty from their
sex. She pulled the blanket up around
them, let them sleep as she tested the new tubers she'd found while
foraging.
Some time after that, Spock
watched from the entrance as a snowball fight between Jim and her turned into
wild impromptu sex against an ice boulder. It was a game for them to see how
little skin they could expose and still do it.
They were getting very adept at sex with their clothes on. Spock shook his head in fond exasperation at
their foolishness and went back inside to get warm.
That was how it was with
them. Closeness. Tenderness. Sometimes all together. Other times not.
Love. It was
love. She never expects to know love
again. Not like that.
The instructor walks in and
she gets up. "Lieutenant Chapel,
sir."
"Oh, yes. I was told you'd be joining us
late." He looks up at her,
smiles. "Done all the reading, have
you?"
"Yes,
sir. I'm all caught up."
"Then I'm not going to
worry about the labs you missed. You
have more practical experience than anyone in here anyway." He seems unusually gentle to Christine. Everyone does since
It shouldn't be. Jim and Spock were kind. Always kind to her and to
each other. Always
looking out for the other guy. Or girl.
She sighs. It is time to forget about how they
were. They--as much as she loves
them--are in her past. Med school and
the instructor who even now stands up to begin class are her future.
And she better pay attention
to it.
-----------------
Christine hurries down the
hall, she is just going to make it to her final. She rounds the corner too fast, careens into
someone. Hands reach out to steady her
and she feels a shock of contact, a sense of the familiar.
She looks up. It is Spock.
"Christine." He seems at a loss for what else to say.
"You're on Earth,"
she says stupidly.
He almost frowns, as if he
did not expect her to say that. Finally,
he nods. "I have one last
physical. In order to be certified free
of complications from our time on the planet."
She wonders how many of them
make up that "our" in his mind.
"Jim is here?"
He nods. Again he seems unsure how to act. Looks at her as if she provides the key to
what he will say next.
"Give him my best,"
she says, turning away. Not wanting
Spock to see her cry.
"You prosper,
Christine?" His voice is soft,
gentle. The Spock she remembers loving.
She nods but still does not
turn.
"Christine--"
"--I'm late for a final,
Spock." She rushes down the
hall. Angry that she
is crying, angry that she cannot just let go.
They were rescued months
ago. Months that she
has been in class and they have been together. She learned shortly after starting med school
that they were back on the
She gets to the classroom
just as the instructor is closing the door.
"Playing with fire,
Lieutenant," he says with a smile, looking at the chrono.
She thinks that sums up her
life exactly.
The final is easier than she
expects--one of life's few blessings.
She finishes, heads home for the evening. She has a week of leave before the next term
starts. She is not sure what she will do
with the time.
She putters around her
apartment, putting things away, ready to start catching up on the long queue of
messages she did not open while she was studying for finals.
The chime at her door is
unexpected; no one is due by.
She pads to the door, opens
it. Is stunned to see
them there, at her door, after all these months. She wants to be angry. She wants to slam the door in their
faces. But Spock is looking at her with
an intensity she thought never to see again.
And Jim is grinning, a grin
that hides something tentative, as if he is not sure they are welcome. "Miss us?" he asks softly.
She feels something inside
her crumble, realizes it is her resolve to forget and move on. To pretend to not want them
as badly as she does.
"Christine? Will you let us in?" Spock's eyes are gently concerned.
She stands aside, lets them
pass. Jim goes first, his walk easy,
unhurried. Spock follows him. She closes the door, turns to watch
them. They stand united, facing
her. Jim's smile has faded, Spock merely
stares.
"Aren't you going to say
something," Jim says.
"You're together,"
she states rather than asks.
Neither of them asks her what
she means. Jim nods. Spock is still watching her carefully.
She turns. "Can I offer you a drink?" She is desperate for a task, something she
can focus on instead of her wildly-beating heart.
"We don't need a
drink." Jim walks toward her.
She wants nothing more than
to run to him. But instead she takes a
step back. "Is it good?" she
asks, wondering why she can't leave well enough alone. Why does she have to torture herself?
"It is," Spock
answers.
She does not understand the
look he gives her. "How nice for
you," she says, the words sarcastic, her tone sharper than she ever used
with them on
"It is nice for
us," Jim says as he reaches for her.
Spock comes up on the other
side.
They touch her and she is
lost. The feeling so
sweet, so welcome after the months apart. The months that they were
apart from her.
She draws away.
"It's good. But it's not the same. Not by a long shot." Jim tries to pull her to him, but she moves
out of his reach. "We haven't
forgotten."
"And you think I
have?"
They don't answer her. But Spock comes up to her, holds her,
nuzzling her neck as Jim closes the gap between them and kisses her.
She moans,
tries to pull away. Spock strokes her
arms as Jim slowly kisses his way down her throat and chest, his touch sure and
strong. He knows what she likes.
She lets herself sink into
Spock's arms, sobs.
Spock whispers, "What is
it, Christine?" His hands continue
to roam across her body.
"I can't just be a
diversion," she says.
Jim pulls away and studies
her. "Neither of us ever said you
were that." He slowly removes her
uniform.
When she stands before them
naked, Jim stares at her as if reacquainting himself with her body. Spock kisses her neck again, then pulls her face gently toward him so he can kiss her on
the mouth. Jim's hands are moving over
her even as Spock deepens the kiss. She
can hear Jim taking his uniform off, then he is pressed close, his skin soft
against hers.
Spock holds her more firmly
as Jim begins to kiss and lick and stroke all over. She moans, feels as if her legs will give
out, feels Spock's grip on her tighten.
She leans back against him gratefully as Jim kneels in front of her,
tasting her, teasing her.
"We have missed you,
Christine," Spock says, his voice low, sensual.
"We have more than
missed you," Jim says, looking up at her before returning to what he was
doing.
She knows she should stop
them. For whatever reason, they are here
now. But soon the
She should tell them to
go. Make them leave.
She does nothing except lean more tightly against Spock.
"Christine," he
says as he kisses her neck. The way he
says her name sounds so sweet.
She gives up, lets go. Surrenders
to what she feels, to what they are doing to her, to what she knows she will
soon be doing to them.
Jim stands up, kisses her,
his arms going round her, his hands ending up on Spock's arms. She can feel Spock reach around to touch him
too. She is locked safe between
them.
For the
moment.
"In case I didn't say it
before. Hello," Jim says with the
self-satisfied grin he always gets after he has pleasured her.
"Hello," she says,
unable to resist his smile.
He kisses her again, then he turns her toward Spock. "Our Vulcan friend is terribly
overdressed, don't you think?"
"Yes, I think
so." She can feel Jim's warm body
pressed against her, can tell how aroused he is.
"Undress him," Jim
tells her.
She does, stopping to kiss
Spock repeatedly as she slowly draws off his uniform.
"You missed us
then?" Jim asks, his hand starting to roam across her body. He reaches with his other hand to touch
Spock's cheek, then leans in to kiss her under her ear where he knows she is
just the slightest bit ticklish.
"Of course I missed
you." Her tone is finally that of
the woman he must remember playing in the snow with.
When he laughs, she can hear
the relief in his voice.
"I missed you both, so
much," she says, not holding back, not cheating them of the emotion they
evoke. "You have no idea."
"You might be surprised
how much we do understand that, love," Jim says, surprising her with the
endearment. "Sweet,
sweet love."
"Love," Spock
echoes as he moves into her.
She nearly weeps at the
feeling of it. She does moan loudly.
"Love," Jim says
again.
Spock reaches for the meld
points. Hers first,
then past her to Jim's. The world
gets fuzzy; everything is warm and safe and full of heavy velvety emotions that
fill her with comfort.
They love her. She was not a diversion.
She was not a third wheel.
They love her.
And she loves them.
And they are relieved at
that. Did they really all think that the
others could forget?
In the meld, she feels her
reactions and Jim's and Spock's as he finishes, as he cries out and holds her
close. They hug and kiss and somehow get
to her bedroom.
"Nice bed," Jim
says, and a rumble of amusement from all of them rolls through the meld.
"Most considerate of you
to plan ahead, Christine," Spock tells her. There is only approval in his voice and in
the sentiment that spreads along the meld after he speaks.
Suddenly she loves her
foolishly enormous bed.
Jim pushes her down, crawls
after her. Spock follows him, a hand on
each of them, deepening the meld, taking them farther than they've ever gone
before.
She can no longer tell where
her body ends and theirs begin. It is
heaven. A heaven of hands
and lips. Of touching and being touched, and of pleasure so intense she nearly passes out.
When she finally comes to
herself, it is morning. She is nestled
between them, Jim's arm thrown possessively across her waist; Spock nestled
more lightly against her, one hand lying on top of Jim's arm. She lets herself imagine what life might be
like if they were always like this. Together. In love.
She knows it cannot be like
this. But for this moment--this one
blissfully drowsy moment--she will believe it can be.
Jim's hold on her tightens
and she looks over to see him watching her, a tender smile playing on his face
as he asks, "Aren't you glad we're back?"
She knows he doesn't mean the
words to hurt her, but they do. She
blinks back tears, tries to find a graceful way to get out of the bed, but only
succeeds in waking Spock.
"Christine? What is wrong?"
She is trapped, covers and
arms and legs keeping her in a place she wants never to leave but needs to get
away from.
"Christine?" Jim touches her face. "What is it?"
She tries once more to get
away but they are holding her next to them now.
The tears come before she can stop them.
Angry and hurt and lonely tears. She cannot find a safe place in her own bed
to cry so she covers her face with her hands and weeps.
"Talk to us," Jim
says.
She only sobs.
They wait. As she cries out everything inside her, they
wait and they hold her, their arms tight around her, pressed against each
other.
Not two, three. She is part of them.
"For how long?" she
finally manages to say. "You're
back for how long?" She opens her
eyes so she can see their expressions.
They both look confused.
Anger fills her. "You come here and make me feel
this. Remind me of everything I've lost,
everything I'll never have. You give me
this love knowing you'll just leave."
They share a bemused look.
Finally, Jim says,
"Christine, what are you talking about?"
She pushes at him. "You're going back to the ship. Without me. When?"
Jim starts to smile. "Are you maybe a little behind on your
messages?" He looks at Spock and
his grin grows.
"Perhaps you were
otherwise engaged," Spock suggests gently.
"Studying for finals?"
She frowns.
Jim kisses her, then pulls Spock to him so he can kiss him too. "Good morning."
"Okay, wait," she
says, as the two men pull away from each other.
Spock pulls her to him,
kisses her deeply.
"The
Spock pulls away from
her. "And you are also here,
Christine."
"The three of us,"
Jim says with a smile as she turns to look at him. "If we want
this?" His smile grows. "I, for one, want this."
"I as well," Spock
says.
"The
three of us?" She can feel a smile beginning. "Together?"
"I have a very large
apartment," Jim says. "You'll
like it."
Spock presses up against
her. "We should use your bed,
Christine. It is an excellent size for
the three of us."
"Spoken like someone who
got to sleep on the outside," she pretends to grumble.
"I'll take middle next
time," Jim says with a laugh.
"Yes, we can
alternate," Spock says.
"That's fair." She
closes her eyes, then is afraid that she will open
them and Jim and Spock will be gone. She
opens her eyes. The two men are still
there. "You're really here to
stay?"
Spock pulls her astride
him. She moves onto him
effortlessly. Jim watches them, a gentle
smile on his face. A smile that grows as
Spock reaches out to grasp him firmly.
Soon there are three voices moaning, three voices calling out as they
each find completion.
"I love you,"
Christine says to them both. "I
love us."
"I love us
too." Jim reaches out to her, takes
her hand. "Then you'll come? You'll move in?"
"What will Command
say?"
"If we don't flaunt it,
why should they say anything?"
Jim's look defies her to argue with him.
"But--"
"They took my ship,
Christine. They aren't going to take
this too."
Spock smiles slightly. "It is not wise to argue with him,
Christine. Logic will not work."
She decides he is right. "All of us together?"
They both nod.
"I need a room where I
can study," she says finally.
Jim pulls her off Spock,
pushes her to her back and looms over her.
"What part of 'very large apartment' do you not get,
kiddo? Four bedrooms. Your study, my office, his
meditation room, and our bedroom."
He begins to tickle her. "With this wonderful bed in it."
She squeals,
tries to appeal to Spock for help but he just watches with the same fond
exasperation he showed them on
Finally, she has to
give. Signaling her surrender by pulling
Jim to her for a kiss, she looks over at Spock.
He moves toward them, kissing Jim long and hard, then
pulling her to him.
"The three of us,"
Jim says as he lies back, arms crossed under his
head. "Now this should be an
adventure."
"Worth giving up the
"No," he says. "Not worth that."
She loves that he doesn't lie
to them.
"But it will certainly
make life interesting from here on out," he says.
She realizes that he probably
fears boredom the way most people fear danger.
"It will never be dull," she agrees, as she pushes the covers
off Spock, slides down until she finds the perfect position to pleasure him.
Spock moans, and she pulls
Jim toward her. He joins in the effort,
their lips and tongues touching as they focus on making Spock feel good. She knows they are succeeding as he moves in
a most un-Vulcan like way, his hands reaching down to tangle in their hair as
first Jim, then Christine take turns with him.
He finally makes a half-growling, half-moaning noise, as he gives in, lets go. Jim is there
to ease him down. Spock's moans fill her
bedroom, and Christine smiles as she watches the two
of them. She can almost see the flames
flickering as they did that night in the cave when the three of them first
came together. She is glad they aren't
on
The three
of them. Then. And now.
Hopefully
forever.
FIN