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.

Siren's Song

by Djinn

 

 

Kirk sighed as he walked toward the milling crowd inside the art museum, absently fingering the small red foil token that had been his ticket into the event.  This holiday gala had been Lori's idea not his.  He hadn't even wanted to go when she'd suggested it months ago, had only decided to keep his token when she'd asked him to give it back.  Five months ago they'd been together and happy--or so he'd thought.  Now, they were apart and he was miserable.  Missing her and hating himself for it.  Angry that he'd never seen through her, that he'd been so thick.  Mad at her for having someone--probably several men--to replace him with, to bring to this stupid gala in his place.

 

He nodded politely to several other admirals, moving purposefully toward the bar, like a shark that would die if it didn't keep swimming.  He managed to sidestep several society matrons asking him where his lovely wife was. 

 

My lovely ex-wife, he wanted to say, is probably home, in our old bed, screwing one of her many lovers.  He didn't say it, just smiled gamely and moved on. 

 

The bar beckoned; he pushed through the throng of people, briefly admiring a bare back belonging to a brunette in a dark blue halter dress.  Then he looked away, coming to rest against the bar.  He leaned over and checked out the liquor selection.

 

A low, somewhat inebriated voice, said, "I recommend the tequila."

 

He turned, saw that the bare back in the dark blue halter had an equally alluring and almost as bare front.  He forced his gaze upward.  "Chapel?"

 

She peered at him.  Then her face fell.  "Shit.  Admiral.  I didn't know it was you."  The last words came out garbled.  She leaned over the bar, giving both Kirk and the bartender a fabulous view of her assets. 

 

Kirk wondered why he'd never noticed before how well-built she was.

 

The bartender seemed positively mesmerized. 

 

Chapel grabbed the bartender by the collar and pulled him to her.  "Quit looking down my dress."

 

"Maybe you shouldn't lean over like that," he said, gulping.

 

"Oh.  Good point."  She patted him on the cheek.  "You're a nice boy.  Now give me some antitox.  I'm way too drunk.  I almost hit on my former boss."  She cocked a thumb back at Kirk.

 

"I'm not supposed to--"

 

"Give me some and I'll give you a big tip."  She pulled away from him.  "Don't give me some and I'll tell your employer you were ogling me."

 

"That hardly seems fair," Kirk said, suddenly in solidarity with the bartender.  "I was ogling you too."

 

"You outrank me.  He doesn't."

 

The bartender dropped some pills into her other hand.  "Here.  Keep it quiet."

 

"Good boy."  She threw the pills back, chased them down with her tequila.

 

"I don't think that's how those were meant to be taken," Kirk said.

 

"Tough."  She sighed, closed her eyes and seemed to wobble for a moment.  When she opened them again, her expression was clear but haunted somehow.  "Amazing drug.  If only all the bad things in life were as easy to take away as being drunk."  She nodded to him tersely, then moved on.

 

"I should go after her," Kirk said to the bartender. 

 

The young man nodded, his expression wistful.  "I would, if I weren't working."

 

"Let me have what she was drinking."  He turned to watch Chapel's progress through the room.  She was steady on her feet, nodding to the few people that seemed to know her.  Kirk noticed that she didn't smile much.

 

"Here you go, sir."

 

Kirk took the tequila and eased his way to where she was studying one of the paintings.  "See something you like?"

 

"Nope."  She didn't turn to look at him.

 

"This is a Miro."

 

"Yep."  She pointed to the sign, as if telling him she was perfectly capable of reading.

 

He turned, surveyed the room.  A few people nodded to him, but for the most part nobody was paying any attention to them.

 

"I didn't figure you for an art lover, Chapel."

 

"I'm not."  She glanced at him.  "I could say the same of you."

 

"I like what I like."  He shrugged, sipped at his drink.  "My wife--ex-wife wanted to come to this."

 

Chapel looked around.

 

"Oh, she's not here.  She wanted to come when we were still married.  Well, she still wanted to come tonight, just not with me."  He turned to see if she was following his narrative.  Amazingly she seemed to be.  "I was having an ornery streak, and didn't feel like giving up my token so that she could bring someone else.  Guess she and whoever found something better to do.  Why are you here alone?"

 

She smiled; it was a bitter expression.  "I wasn't supposed to be."  The look she turned on him was filled with anger--and no small amount of pain.  She held up her token, let it slide until he could see another one behind it.  "Oops.  I must have taken both of them."

 

"Christine?"  A man yelled from the main entrance, trying to get past the guards. 

 

Kirk turned to look, noticed that Chapel didn't.  The man was staring at her.

 

"Hon?  I've lost my token.  Come clear this mess up?"  He turned to the guard at the door.  "See, that's my girlfriend.  She probably has it with her."

 

The guard showed signs of relenting, so Kirk said softly.  "Are you his girlfriend or not?"

 

"Not."  Again the pain showed in her eyes.  She seemed to be fighting back tears.

 

He looked over at the man, who seemed genuinely confused.  Kirk thought he should take his side in this--he knew what it was like to get screwed over by a woman.  But he couldn't imagine Chapel being like Lori, or deliberately hurting anyone.  He had to go with his gut on this one, and every instinct he had said to side with Chapel.

 

"He doesn't know that your relationship is over?"  At the shake of her head, he held out his arm.  "Why don't we show him?"

 

She looked up at him, anger slowly replaced with a look of grudging appreciation.  "Thank you, Admiral."

 

"Call me, Jim." 

 

She took his arm, studiously ignoring the man at the entrance.  "Only if you'll stop calling me Chapel."

 

"Christine!"  The man seemed frantic.  "Honey, what are you doing?"

 

"I gotta tell you, buddy," the guard said.  "She doesn't look like your girlfriend to me.  Move it along now."

 

"Christine?"  The man's cries slowly faded as the guards pushed him back from the door.

 

She pulled away from Kirk as soon as the coast was clear.  "Thanks."  She hurried off, into the next room.

 

He followed her.  She had stopped in front of a Chagall, did not turn when he joined her.

 

"Spock likes him."  He shook his head, amazed that after all this time he was still thinking of Spock as if the Vulcan were his best friend.  As if he had never run off to Gol.  Run off for reasons that Kirk had never understood.

 

Kirk missed him.  More than he usually let himself think about.  But here, with her, his friend seemed very close.  And utterly out of reach.  Is that how she had felt all those years?

 

"Why is there a chicken in it?" she asked.

 

"I don't know." 

 

"Does Spock like chickens?"

 

He shrugged.

 

"I never knew him well enough to know what he liked."  She sounded bitter.  Hurt and angry but also resigned, as if she had grown used to such negative emotion.

 

She walked away, and he let himself admire how the dress clung to her curves, how the bare skin of her back--was shaking.  She stopped at another painting and he walked over to her.  She was crying, turning her head away slightly as if to keep him and the people behind them from seeing.

 

 He had the sudden urge to touch her, to hold her, but he didn't think she'd appreciate it.  "Do you want to tell me about it?"

 

"No."

 

He did touch her then, just long enough to steer her deeper into the room, then through a doorway into a hall.  Away from the crowd, from the eyes that would tear them apart if they saw weakness.  He sighed.  His own mood was coloring this.  He should let her be. 

 

She sniffed loudly and he felt for her pain, whatever it was.

 

"I'm fine," she said, pushing him away suddenly and striding down the hall.  She disappeared into an exhibit entitled 'Magical Places.'

 

He looked back at the crowd.  There was nobody he wanted to talk to here, just a lot of people he'd rather avoid.  Like boring admirals who would want to talk about his boring job.  Or people who would ask him about Lori, people to whom he didn't want to have to explain that his marriage had fallen apart.  That he couldn't make a relationship last even when safely grounded on Earth.

 

He turned and followed Chapel into the far exhibit.  "Magical Places?"

 

She looked over as he walked toward her.  "There's no such thing as magic." 

 

He nodded.  If there were really magic in the world, love would last, and the people who swore to cherish and protect you wouldn't break your heart.  "Magic's a crock."

 

She looked up at him, her face expressionless.  "At the risk of being rude, sir, please leave me alone."

 

"I told you to call me Jim."  He tried to smile, felt as if the expression came out as a grimace.  "What should I call you, since you don't like Chapel?"

 

She shrugged, seemed to give up on his giving her any peace.  "Whatever you want."  She turned away.

 

"I used to call you Christine."

 

"Call me that then."  Her tone was resigned.  As if she knew she couldn't stop him from talking to her, so she wasn't going to try.

 

"Difficult is what you are.  I think I'll call you that. Difficult."

 

"Probably fits."  She moved to the next painting, stared up at it as if mesmerized.  "Beautiful."

 

Yes, beautiful would fit her too tonight.  He'd always considered her one of those women who was handsome.  Nice figure and features, but too severe to be beautiful.  Maybe it was the pain that softened her eyes and made her lower lip tremble slightly, or the slip of dark blue fabric and how it fell around her, or the way her legs seemed to go on forever, but tonight she looked beautiful.   Then he realized she was talking about the painting.  He turned to study it, smiled.  "La Grotta Azzurra."

 

She read the sign.  "The Blue Grotto by Leucosia.  You've been to the grotto, I take it?"

 

He nodded.  How many years had it been since he'd visited Capri?  Too many.  But he could still smell the warm sea air, still feel the sun on his face.  Still hear the faint hum of some faraway music in the air.  If there was a magical place, that island was it.  He smiled, a dreamy haze settling around him for a moment.

 

"I've never been," she said.

 

"You should go."

 

She shook her head.  "I've been busy getting my degree.  No time to travel."  She smiled tightly.  "That's what you can call me, Admir--Jim.  Call me Doctor."

 

"Doctor."  He smiled, this time a real expression.  "Congratulations, Chris."  The name rolled off his tongue.  He was about to take it back, but decided it suited her.

 

She shot him an odd look.  "Nobody calls me that anymore."

 

"All the better."  He didn't want to explain to her that he liked the idea of having something all to himself.  After finding out that he'd been sharing his wife for too long. 

 

He forced his thoughts along other lines.  Thinking about Lori would only make him feel depressed.  And old.

 

Chapel turned her gaze back to the painting.  "Is it really that blue?"

 

"Bluer." 

 

"Hmm."  She turned away, walked to the next painting.

 

He studied her as she moved around the room.  She seemed tense, the muscles in her back taut, her hands clenched somewhat as she stopped and stared up at one of the works.  He wondered if she was even seeing it.  He moved closer to her and realized she was crying again, only this time she was hiding it better.

 

He stepped in close.  "What happened?"

 

She shook her head, but the tears that rolled down her face seemed to multiply.

 

"Sometimes it helps to talk about it," he said softly.

 

"I will if you will."  She sounded like she didn't think he would.

 

He sighed.  He wasn't sure he wanted to.  He'd become a master of holding his pain inside.  Where it was probably festering.   "I thought I had a good marriage," he said into the silence.

 

She turned to look at him.

 

"She was fun, passionate, witty.  The sex was great."  He looked down.  "For me and all the other men she was seeing." 

 

"I'm sorry."

 

He waved her pity away with a brusque gesture.

 

"Did you ever see her with them...these men?"

 

"No.  One of them came to see me.  Wanted her for himself.  Actually asked me to step aside in the interest of true love."  He shook his head.  "When I confronted her, she was outraged.  Not at me, but at this guy for wanting more than just fun.  She seemed to think it was perfectly all right to have a little action on the side."

 

He hadn't told any of his friends this.  He hadn't told anyone this.

 

"I'm sorry."  She did sound sorry.

 

He nodded tightly.  "Your turn."

 

She sighed.  "I was at a seminar today and the last speaker cancelled.  We let out a couple hours early.  I went home.  Tom--my boyfriend...ex-boyfriend...the guy out there--was already home.  In bed.  Our bed.  With someone else." 

 

He touched her arm.  "I'm sorry."

 

"They didn't see me, so I snuck out.  Like some goddamn thief, I just backed away out of my own place.  I walked for a while, was headed back when I saw her leaving.  I gave him a few minutes, then went inside.  I got ready and left while he was in the shower."

 

"So, he doesn't know you know."

 

She shook her head.

 

"You should tell him."

 

She jerked away from him.  "I know what I should do.  I don't need you to lecture me."  She walked back to the painting of the Blue Grotto, stared at it as if she could fall into it if she looked long enough.  "I want to be there."  She closed her eyes, as if she was making a wish. 

 

He smiled.  "Well, let's go there."  It would still be early morning in Capri.  The boats didn't come in until later.  They could swim into the grotto.

 

"Right."  She turned away.

 

"I'm serious.  I've got transporter credits up the yin-yang."

 

"You want to go to Italy?  Tonight?"

 

He nodded.  "Don't you?"  He sighed heavily.  "I know I don't want to go home tonight."  Home: that barren apartment he'd moved into once he'd finally left Lori for good.  He hated it.  Hated Lori.  Hated his life.  Some days he even hated himself.

 

He held out his hand.  "Chris?"

 

She stared at him for a long time.  Then she slowly began to smile. 

 

He smiled back.  "It's warm and the water's so clear you can see the sea bottom no matter how far out you go."  He nodded as she reached for his hand.  "And there's always a breeze."

 

"Sounds nice."

 

"It is."  He squeezed her hand gently.  "It will be.  The water's perfection against your skin." 

 

"Are we going swimming?"

 

He nodded.

 

"I don't have a suit."

 

He touched her shoulder, ran his finger down her arm, smiling when she shivered.  "You won't need one."

 

"Oh."

 

He thought for a moment she was going to pull away, then some strange resolve filled her eyes. 

 

"Tit for tat," he asked quietly.

 

She looked guilty.   "That's not very fair to you, is it?"

 

"Do I look like I mind?"  He turned, began to walk out of the exhibit.

 

Her heels echoed on the floor as she hurried to catch up with him.  He took her glass and set it with his own on one of the server's trays. 

 

"Do you have a coat?"

 

She laughed softly.  "No.  I wasn't exactly thinking straight when I ran out."

 

"Are you cold?"

 

She seemed to think about that.  Then she lifted her eyes to his, smiled.  "No.  I'm not."

 

He smiled back, led her to the exit.

 

Quite a few eyes took in their departure. 

 

Good, Kirk thought.  He hoped they told Lori.  He looked at Chapel, admiring again the way the dress hugged her body.  Let them tell his ex that he'd left with a sexy woman.  He nearly laughed at the thought, at how good it felt to be paying Lori back.  He should feel worse about that.  It wasn't very nice of him.  But he didn't much care.

 

"What?" Chapel asked.

 

He shook his head.  "Just admiring how amazing you look."

 

"Ogling again?"  She smiled and it was finally the warm, gentle smile he remembered from the Enterprise.

 

"I'm afraid so."

 

"It is a good dress, isn't it?"  She brushed away a wrinkle only she could see.  "I got this to drive him crazy.  Tonight was our one-year anniversary."  Her face fell.

 

Kirk squeezed her hand.  "I'm sorry.  Lori and I didn't make it to one year." 

 

"Couple of losers."  She looked up at him.

 

"Them or us?"

 

She sighed.  "I don't know.  We're the ones who got hurt.  So us, I guess."

 

He nodded ruefully, afraid she was right.  When hadn't he lost at love?

 

She looked ready to cry again.  He pulled her out of the museum, hoping to get her free of the crowd before she lost control, wanting to spare her that humiliation.

 

Her boyfriend was waiting for them outside.  He was blowing on his hands and pacing.  "Christine?"  He shot Kirk an irritated look.  "Do you mind?"

 

Chapel moved closer to Kirk.  "Tom, leave me alone."

 

"What's the meaning of this?  One minute we're fine.  The next you're hitting on this guy?  It's our anniversary, for god's sake."

 

Kirk felt her hand clench on his.  He squeezed back, trying to give her strength.

 

"I came home early today."

 

Tom looked suddenly wary.

 

"I came home hours before you think I did.  I saw an awful lot.  Enough to last me the rest of my life."

 

"Christine, I can explain--"

 

She pulled away from Kirk.  "You were screwing another woman in our bed.  How much explaining is necessary?" 

 

Tom reached for her but she jumped back, running into Kirk, almost losing her balance. 

 

Kirk grabbed her arm, steadying her.  "Come on, Chris.  He's not worth it."

 

"Why is he calling you Chris?  Who is he?"

 

"Goodbye, Tom."  She leaned into Kirk, let him draw her away.

 

Tom followed. "If you think this is over, that I'll just let you run off with some other guy..."

 

She turned; her voice seemed to drop vitriol.  "Let me?  You lost the right to let me do anything, Tom.  Now get away from me." 

 

When he didn't move, she took a step toward him.  There must have been something threatening in her expression, because he took three rapid steps back.

 

She turned back to Kirk.  "Let's get the hell out of here."

 

He nodded, pulling her gently away from her stunned ex and to the waiting transporter station.

 

This time, Tom didn't follow them.

 

--------------------

 

Chapel held onto Kirk's hand tightly, afraid that if she let go, she'd find herself back in the apartment, staring at Tom and that woman.  Watching them make love in her bed. 

 

"Hey?" Kirk said gently, looking down at their clasped hands.

 

She realized she was clenching down hard.  "I'm sorry."  She tried to pull away but he didn't let go.

 

"It's okay.  I meant that as a 'Hey, what's going on in that head of yours?' not as a 'Hey, lady, you're breaking my hand.'"

 

She smiled.  "I was just thinking about finding them in bed.  When I saw them, it was like someone hit me in the stomach with a sledgehammer."

 

He nodded.  "Yes.  That's a good description.  Later it will just feel like someone is trying to pull your guts out with a crowbar."  He shot her a wry grin.  "Good thing time heals all wounds, eh?"

 

She was glad he wasn't trying to sugarcoat the truth for her.  She thought her other friends might.  But he'd been through it too.  He wouldn't lie to her and tell her everything would be all right.

 

He let go of her hand as they arrived at the transporter station and she found herself missing his warmth.  She had been cold since she'd found Tom and--

 

She shook her head, then did it again.  Trying to rid herself of the image of that woman, sitting astride Tom, head thrown back.

 

She felt Kirk's hand on her back and leaned into it.

 

"I'm sorry," he murmured, seeming to understand what she was thinking about. 

 

She nodded, afraid she'd break down if she tried to talk.

 

He led her to a transporter pad, told the transporter tech, "Capri, Italy."

 

The tech made some adjustments, then the world disappeared to be replaced by a much smaller transporter station.  She followed Kirk off the pad, walked out into the cool morning air.

 

"I thought you said it would be warm here."  She rubbed her arms.  "It's not much different than San Francisco."

 

"But the water will be warmer than the air, at least."

 

"By how much?" 

 

He laughed.  "About ten degrees if we're lucky."

 

She shivered again. 

 

He took off his jacket, wrapped it around her shoulders.  "Come on, we need to get to the Grotto before the boats do."  He hurried to a local transport that was just pulling in.

 

She followed him, having trouble keeping up in her strappy sandals.  He held his hand out, pulled her up the high first step.  She followed him to a seat in the back.  As she sat down next to him, he dropped an arm around her, pulling her in close then turning to look out the window, a huge smile growing on his face. 

 

"It's more beautiful than I remembered."  His arm tightened around her.

 

She relaxed against him, letting his warmth soak into her.  "It is spectacular." 

 

The transport was moving quickly through the narrow streets.  They were empty at this hour of the off-season but she could imagine them filled with swarms of tourists when summer came.  The sun-bleached houses shone in the early morning light, the white broken by an occasional pastel-colored building, a warm yellow or dark pinky red peeking out from between the snowy facades.

 

They moved out of the city, cutting across open land and then winding their way down through hairpin switchbacks into the smaller town of Anacapri, before heading around the northwestern edge of the island, along the cliffs to the beach.  The transport stopped several places, picking up locals and some tourists on their way to the grotto.  Most of the tourists were dressed in bathing outfits and shorts, and Chapel realized that she and Kirk looked very out of place. 

 

A local woman was watching her.  When she saw that Chapel was looking at her, she smiled, approval on her face.  "Amore."

 

Kirk looked over at her, then he pulled Chapel a little closer.  "Amore," he repeated, but his voice was sad.

 

"Amore sucke," she said, smiling when he laughed at her massacring of the language.

 

"It doesn't have to."

 

"Doesn't it?"

 

He shook his head, leaning in to kiss her gently on the lips.  She was too surprised to pull away, then too caught up with how good his lips felt on hers to do so.

 

He finally pulled away.  "Did you go to the party intent on picking someone up?  To pay him back?"

 

She looked down. 

 

"Chris?"

 

No one had called her that, not since she was a kid.  But it sounded right coming from him.  She wasn't sure why.  "Yes, I think I did."  It wasn't an admission that she liked to make.  Didn't like what it said about her.

 

He just nodded.

 

"Aren't you going to tell me that it's wrong?"

 

"Nope.  Maybe I would have been better off if I'd done something like that."  He pointed to the low cliffs ahead of them.  "That's where it is."  He looked at the other tourists, sighed.  "I thought we'd have it all to ourselves."

 

"I'm a strong swimmer," she said softly.  "We can beat them in."

 

"Dressed like this?  We have to find someplace private to take these clothes off."

 

She smiled softly.  "Didn't really think this through, huh?"

 

He shrugged.  "It'll work out.  Things always do."

 

"Do they?"

 

His face fell again, and she was sorry she asked.  She leaned in and kissed him, enjoying the feel of his lips against hers, the way his hand went under his jacket to rub her back.  Funny, she had never in her life fantasized about kissing Jim Kirk.  Had been too busy mooning over his first officer.  Yet here they were, and touching him seemed the easiest thing in the world to do.

 

The transport stopped.  Chapel got up just as the old woman did.  Chapel waited for her to go, but the woman was struggling with a large package and motioned for her to proceed.  She turned to see Kirk helping the woman get the package down, then he turned back to Chapel, his hand coming to rest on her waist, not pushing her, not copping a feel, just there.  Comfortable and steadying.

 

There was a sudden crash behind them.  They both turned, Kirk hurrying to help pick up a stack of paintings that had fallen out of their packaging.

 

"Presto, eh?" the driver of the transport called back, impatience clear in his voice.

 

Chapel saw that a smaller painting had fallen under one of the seats.  She crouched down to drag it out.  It was of the Blue Grotto, similar to the one in the museum that had drawn her so.  She handed it to the woman.  "This is beautiful."

 

The old woman took it and smiled, tried to take the bigger paintings from Kirk but he insisted on carrying them for her.  She led the two of them off the transport.  "Grazie."  She studied them.  "You came to swim?"

 

Kirk nodded.  "That was the plan."  His expression changed to dismay as he saw the number of tourists already there.  "No damn suits," he muttered.

 

"Better to stay out.  It is rough today."

 

Chapel looked out at the still waters.  "Rough?  Where I'm from, that wouldn't qualify as rough." 

 

The woman looked out at the sea.  "You can't always see what is coming."  She smiled slightly, the same way she had earlier on the transport, then her look darkened.  "Or the hidden dangers."

 

"That's true," Kirk said.  "But we still want to swim."

 

"No matter the cost?"

 

"Beach was free last time I was here."  Kirk grinned.

 

Chapel smiled at his joke, the daring that barely covered his stubbornness--his dogged determination to get his way no matter the cost.  She'd seen that determination save them over and over.  Maybe that was what a hero was?  Someone who just didn't know when to quit?

 

"Come with me then," the old woman said matter-of-factly, as she led them to one of the closed shops.  She opened the door, let them in, then locked it again.  Sizing them both up, she began to go through the racks of clothes, thrusting things at them, including bathing suits and some simple sandals.  "Go.  Change."

 

Chapel looked at Kirk.  He shrugged, went to one of the dressing rooms and closed the curtain behind him.  Chapel looked over at the woman, who motioned her into the other room.  "Hurry or the boats will come and you'll lose your chance."

 

Chapel didn't argue, peeling off her dress and pulling on the simple tank bathing suit.  She tried on the rest of the clothing.  It all fit. 

 

She walked out, wearing the shorts and swimsuit, carrying the rest.  "You have a good eye, ma'am."

 

"My name is Ligi."  The woman was going through the pictures, matching them with small descriptive tags.  "My sister paints these with such care, but then she does not pack them well."  Ligi shook her head.  "Artists."  Her tone was scornful.

 

"You've lived here all your life?"

 

Ligi smiled oddly.  "Yes."

 

"And owned this shop?"

 

"No.  The shop is only recently mine.  My sisters and I worked together.  Now, we're retired.  Separate."  She touched one of the paintings; it was of a cliff-side ruin.  "But still in contact."

 

"Sisters? You have more than one?"  Chapel had always wanted to have a sister.  She'd felt cheated, growing up an only child.  When her parents had died, she'd had no one left.

 

"We are three."  Ligi's tone seemed to say the conversation was ended.

 

Kirk came out and Ligi took the clothing and his suit and shoes from him.  She neatly stuffed everything into a large straw carryall.  Then she handed it to Chapel, rang up the purchases as Chapel pushed the things she'd worn to the gala and Kirk's jacket, as well as her new clothes, into the bag.

 

"I'll pay you back," Chapel said softly to Kirk.

 

"I'm an admiral, I think I can handle it."  He grinned at her, and she realized it was the first real grin she'd seen from him.  "Besides, I was the one who dragged you out here."

 

"True."  She smiled back.

 

Ligi was humming and the melody somehow grew to fill the shop.  The tune seemed to reach down into Chapel's bones, reminding her of swimming, of bonfires on the beach, and the warm sea air rolling across her face.

 

"That's beautiful," Kirk said.  "What is it?"

 

"Just a song of the sea."  Ligi motioned them out.  "You go now.  Swim.  Enjoy.  Amore."  She grinned.

 

Chapel found herself grinning too. 

 

Kirk looked at Chapel, then reached back for her hand before he said to the old woman, "Thank you."

 

She inclined her head, a movement that looked almost regal for its grace.  "It will be a good day for the grotto.  Very blue, very bright.  Like your eyes," she said with a smile at Chapel.  Then she turned back to the paintings, muttering something Chapel couldn't make out, clearly dismissing the two of them.

 

------------------------------

 

Kirk hurried over to the ladder that led to the beach.  He took the carryall from Chapel and slung it over his shoulder, then made his way down.  He saw her climb onto the ladder, begin the descent a few steps behind him.  Reaching the rocky slip of beach, he stowed their bag in the higher rocks like the other tourists had done.  He slipped off his sandals and waited for her to take off hers and step out of her shorts. Then he reached for her hand and led her into the water.

 

"It's not warm, Jim," she said as the water hit their thighs. 

 

She was right.  Fortunately, it was calm.  "But it's warmer than the air.  Give it a chance."

 

She surprised him by shallow diving into the water, moving gracefully past him under the water with a strong dolphin kick.  He followed her, powerful strokes and kicks catching him up to her, but not without effort. 

 

She surfaced, smiling as she brushed the hair out of her eyes.  "It's been ages since I've been swimming in the sea."

 

He treaded water, paddling gently to keep upright, surprised to see that the sea was getting rougher even as they got used to the water temperature.  A motion above him caught his attention.  He thought it was the woman from the shop standing there, watching them.  She turned and walked away from the cliff edge. 

 

"The waves are bigger," Chapel said. 

 

He noted that there was no note of panic in her voice; she seemed to like the waves.

 

"When it's choppy like this, it can be dangerous trying to get into the cave."  He pointed toward the opening.  "If you go in by rowboat, you have to lie down or risk being scraped on the top of the opening.  If it stays this rough, the boats won't come in at all."

 

She only nodded, a fearless smile playing at her lips. 

 

He smiled back, knew it was the same bold expression.  He was in no mood to play it safe either.  "We have to time it just right behind a swell or we'll brain ourselves on the top of the opening."

 

"Okay."

 

"And watch out for the chain.  The oarsmen use it to pull their boats in."  He turned toward the grotto.  Watched as another couple tried to work up nerve to get past the nasty swells and into the cave.  They gave up and turned around. 

 

Another group of tourists swam near the entrance.  They watched the waves for a moment, then they too abandoned the effort, heading for shore.

 

Several couples came shooting out from inside the cave, laughing breathlessly, exclaiming at how close they'd come to being pinned against the top of the cave entrance.  One of the swimmers looked out at Kirk and Chapel, shaking her head.  "You don't want to go in there.  It's too rough."

 

"We do want to go in there.  We came here to go in there," Chapel muttered, surprising him with her stubbornness.  "Coming?"  She set out for the cave with a smooth and easy side stroke, looking as if she could swim for days.  He noticed that she barely broke the water as she moved. 

 

A mermaid.  That was what she looked like in the water.  A mermaid.

 

She smiled as she caught his look.  "My mom used to call me a waterdog.  She could never get me to come out of the water when we went to my grandparents' place on the bay."

 

"I grew up swimming in pools and the pond near our house, and sometimes in the Great Lakes.  I'd never been in the sea until I came west.  But I always loved swimming.  My mother had a hard time getting me to come in too."

 

She nodded.  "The water feels like home."

 

"Yes.  It does."  He smiled as she turned back toward the cave.  The water did feel like home.  The only thing that felt even more so was space.  And that was lost to him now.  He sighed, trying to push away the emptiness he always felt when he let himself think about his future--his future at a desk.

 

She slowed as they reached the entrance, and he moved ahead of her slightly, trying to judge the timing of the swells.  The chop was making it almost impossible to see through the entrance.  They were unlikely to make it by staying on the surface.

 

He turned to her.  "How deep can you go?"

 

She grinned.  "How deep do we need to go?"

 

"Follow me," he said, pleased again at her daring.  He blew out quickly several times and then sucked in a large breath.  He could hear her doing the same.  Then he dove down deeper and deeper as he headed for the entrance.  The swells seemed to push him along, more gently now that he was not on the surface.  As soon as the light changed around him, he headed back up.  He heard her break the water a second behind him.

 

They had the cave to themselves.

 

He looked around, marveling yet again at the beauty of the place.  The morning sun was hitting the water perfectly, coming in from an underwater entrance as well as through the way they'd just swum.  The sunlight hit the limestone covering the cave, lighting the water up like a mirror, throwing azure reflections on the cave walls and ceiling.

 

"My god," Chapel said, then fell silent, turning to take in the wondrous color.

 

"And this is nothing compared to later in the day when the boats come.  But they won't let us swim in then."  The swells were gentler inside the cave, moving him toward her.  As he bumped up against her, he reached out, pulling her close.  "They used to have orgies in here, you know?"

 

She giggled.  "Who did?  And how?"  She kicked out slightly, moved her arms in a gentle backstroke, pulling him with her toward the cave wall.  Reaching back, she held on to a grip she managed to find in the wet rock. 

 

"Tiberius," Kirk said.  "From all accounts he was a perverted old coot.  Actually moved the capital of the Roman Empire to Capri so he wouldn't have to leave his beloved island.  Or his playmates."  He laughed.  "An orgy is a little hard to imagine though, isn't it?  Unless the water is a lot higher now and there were places you could put your feet down back then."

 

She nodded.  Her eyes gleamed blue in the cave, her face colored by aqua and azure streaks as the light rippled off the water.  He reached up, found a grip and held on tight as he leaned in to kiss her.  Her mouth met his in a sweet touch.  She wrapped her free arm around his neck, swung her legs up to straddle him.

 

He deepened the kiss, intensely aware of how her body was pressing against his.  "Chris," he moaned.  He was suddenly very willing to try to recreate one of Tiberius's orgies.

 

She kissed him back, passionately, wildly.  For a moment.  Then she eased off, finally pulled away.

 

He tried to see her face but she looked down.  He could feel her trembling in his arms.  Heard her make an odd noise.

 

"It's okay."  He tipped her head up, saw that she was crying. 

 

"I thought I could do this..."  She looked away.

 

"But you can't?"

 

She shook her head.  "I want to though.  I want to make him pay.  And you've been so nice..."

 

He kissed her gently, the touch of his lips on hers meant to be friendly, and comforting.  He wanted her to know that he expected nothing from her.  "It's okay, Chris.  You're not like him."

 

"I'm not like him" she repeated, her voice so sad she sounded almost broken.

 

"Hey."  He kissed her again.  "Not being like him is a good thing in my book."

 

She nodded.  Leaned in to give him a gentle kiss.  Then another.  "I'm sorry.  I wasted your credits."

 

"No, you didn't.  We're here, aren't we?  In the Blue Grotto?  We got in when everyone else was afraid?"

 

She nodded, a slow smile starting.  "We did."

 

"We could stay here for a while, on Capri.  No reason to head back right away.  At least not for me.  I have the next couple of days off."

 

"Stay here?"  She looked tempted, then her expression turned nervous.

 

"Not for sex," he said quickly.  "Just to explore the island.  For fun."

 

"Fun?"

 

He nodded, had to reach in for another kiss.  Her lips were so soft.  "You remember what fun is?  Because I barely do."

 

"I think I vaguely remember."  She smiled.  "I have time off.  Before I report to my new assignment."  She looked away again, as if afraid to tell him what that assignment was.  "You heard?"

 

He nodded.  "I read the crew manifest.  Congratulations.  CMO is quite an achievement.  And on the Enterprise?  Even more so."

 

She laughed, a slightly bitter sound.  "An achievement many think I don't warrant, I bet." 

 

She moved her hand from around his neck to his head, was running her fingers through his hair.  He wondered if she was even aware that she was doing it.  It felt terrific and he closed his eyes for a moment.

 

"You know Decker personally, I take it?" he finally asked her.

 

"He's Tom's best friend.  And he's become mine too.   I've been mothering and badgering him now for a year.  And he actually listens to me."

 

Kirk nodded.  "That's crucial in a good CMO.  And why McCoy was so valuable to me.  Because as much as I hated it at times, he was never afraid to tell me when I was way off on something."

 

She nodded.  "I think I can do that for Will.  He pushes himself so hard.  He's been trying to live up to his dad's reputation.  And live it down at the same time."

 

Kirk nodded.  "He's lucky to have someone who understands him."

 

She kissed him again, sweet, little caresses that barely touched down on his lips, his cheeks, his neck.  He moaned.

 

"I shouldn't do that, should I?"

 

"You can."  He grinned.  "It's nice.  It's friendly."

 

She grinned back.  "I think it's more than that."

 

He kissed her the same way she'd done to him, heard her giggle when he touched a sensitive spot behind her ear.  "Does that mean you want me to stop kissing you?"  He gave her one more for good measure.  A long, gentle kiss on her lips.

 

When he pulled away, she sighed.  Then she smiled, a closed-mouthed smile that was both sweet and very sad.  "No, I don't want you to stop."

 

"Good."  He let go of her, felt her unwrap her legs from around him.  "The colors change in here depending on where you are.  Come on."

 

They moved through the cave without speaking; the only sounds were the swell of the sea against the entrance and the walls, and their gentle breaststrokes occasionally breaking the water.

 

"It's breathtaking, Jim."  She rolled to her back, stared up at the ceiling.  "Simply breathtaking."

 

He smiled, glad he could give her something nice.  "Yes, it is."

 

--------------------------------

 

Chapel yawned.  She put her head on Kirk's shoulder as the transport made its slow way back to Capri.  He had his arm around her, tightened it slightly.  She sighed.  Comfortable and tactile, he made her feel human again.  Human and warm.  She had been afraid that Tom had taken that warmth from her.  Rushing away from him and their apartment, she'd felt as if her heart had been frozen.  Frozen in that one moment that she wished she could forget.

 

"It's time to go to sleep in San Francisco," he said softly.  "Past time, in fact.  But we have to stay awake if we can."

 

"Just a little nap?  Please?  When we find a hotel?"  She wrapped her arms around him, snuggled in.  "Please?"

 

"All right," he said, as if she'd asked for the world and he'd just decided to give it to her.

 

She chuckled, allowed her eyes to close.  "Wake me when we get there?"  She felt his lips on her forehead. 

 

"You bet."

 

She woke to the same gentle caress. 

 

"Wake up, sleepyhead."

 

She slowly sat up; they were back at the transporter station.  She followed Kirk off the vehicle and into the busy plaza across the street.  They walked for about three blocks, then he turned into an elegant hotel. 

 

"This is the oldest hotel on the island.  I stayed here the first time I visited."  He bounded up the steps, into the marble foyer. 

 

She followed him more slowly, taking in the lovely old style of the hotel.  When she joined him, he was looking at her thoughtfully. 

 

"What is it?"

 

"They have one room left."  His voice was soft, pitched so that only she could hear it.  "With one bed."

 

"A big one?"

 

He shook his head.  Saw her reaction and said, "We can go somewhere else.  I'm sure--"

 

She touched his hand.  "Get the room, Jim.  We'll flip for the floor.  Or we'll share the bed.  No big deal."

 

He touched her hand where it rested on his, then turned back around to reception. 

 

She wandered over to where an old woman sat at an easel working on a painting.  Her eyes were closed, as if she was invoking some scene and she hummed softly to herself.  Then she opened her eyes and began to dab paint onto the canvas.

 

"You like it?" she asked Chapel without looking at her.

 

"Very much," Chapel said.  It reminded her of the painting of the Blue Grotto that had so mesmerized her.  "What is this place?"

 

"The Villa Jovis.  Have you been?"

 

"No.  We just got here."

 

"You had enough time to swim though."  The woman laughed when Chapel started.  "I can smell the sea on you, my dear.  Did you go down to the Marina?"

 

"No.  To the Grotto."

 

"Which one, child?