DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters are the
property of Paramount Studios, Inc and Viacom. The
story contents are the creation and property of Djinn and are copyright (c)
2013 by Djinn. This story is Rated R.
Too Old for This
by Djinn
ChapelÕs
migraine had a migraine. She looked
across the table at the eager faces of the new officers reporting for Ops and
took a deep, steadying breath. Then
she launched into her standard ÒWelcome and abandon hope all ye who enterÓ
speech.
She
probably could have hit the welcome part more and the abandon hope section with
less energy. The newbies looked
terrified by the time she got done.
She
turned to Commander Remsen, said as merrily as she could, ÒAnd now for the fun
part.Ó Under her breath, she said,
ÒPlease clean up my mess.Ó
He
nodded and gave her the look heÕd been giving her a lot—that maybe she
should take that leave she was earning and never using. Great deputies often had too much
insight.
She stood. ÒWelcome again. IÕm going to leave you in Commander
RemsenÕs capable hands.Ó She
hightailed it out of the briefing room.
As
soon as she was clear, she took a deep breath, then another. Ever since Jim and Scotty had been lost,
sheÕd been at loose ends. She wasnÕt
sure precisely why: neither of them had been constant fixtures in her life of
late. But it felt like the old crew
was falling away. Len was looking
frailer—especially since the stint on Rura Penthe. Sulu
and Jan were fine, but their ship was quickly supplanting the flagship when it
came to being the go-to vessel for anything touchy.
Pavel was—well, she didnÕt know where the hell Pavel was at the moment. His work with security took him some odd
places, as far as she could tell, and he often showed up on ships coming back
from planets she didnÕt think heÕd been officially detailed to. She didnÕt want to ask what he was up
to. Some things were better not to
know.
She
went into her office and commed Ny.
ÒCaptain
Chapel, what can I do for you?Ó
Chapel
laughed—funny how quickly Command had moved her up when CartwrightÕs
replacement in Ops had also turned out to be a member of the conspiracy. Ny knew she loved hearing the new title. ÒIÕm losing it, I think.Ó
ÒHow
so?Ó Ny looked distracted, checking
her terminal instead of looking at the comm screen.
ÒI
just scared the holy shit out of a group of new Ops recruits.Ó
ÒWay to lead, Chapel.Ó Ny turned to
look at her. ÒGo see Spock.Ó
ÒWhat?Ó
ÒI
mean it. HeÕs at the Embassy, and
he looks like hell.Ó
ÒAnd
you know this how...?Ó
ÒI
saw him in the hall. I have
eyes. He told me where he was
staying when I oh so stealthily inquired—on your behalf, not mine.Ó
ÒYes,
because my day hasnÕt been bad enough.
I should go visit Spock out of the blue?Ó
ÒTell
him I sent you if youÕre scared.Ó
Ny started to laugh. ÒAre
you? Are you
chicken? Big time captain,
head of Ops, scared of one little Vulcan?Ó
Her smile faded, and she looked worried. ÒSeriously, Christine. He looked terrible. This thing with Valeris...what he did to
her. And
then to lose the captain—if youÕre hurting, think of how he must feel.Ó
ÒI
am going to kill you when this goes inevitably south.Ó
ÒMmm hmmm. IÕll
talk to you later, all right?Ó Ny
cut the channel before Chapel could.
ÒDamn
it all, Ny,Ó Chapel said to the blank comm screen. ÒWhy donÕt you go check on him if you
care so much?Ó
But
she knew why. Spock had never
sought Ny out as a partner for the Pon Farr—Chapel
had gotten the nod for that dubious honor, but the ever-the-romantic Ny thought
that his choice was significant.
Even if the most Chapel ever got out of him any other time was a
dignified ÒGood day.Ó Maybe a ÒHow
are you?Ó if he was feeling especially gregarious.
Oh
well. She loved Amanda and
Sarek. TheyÕd be happy to see her,
even if Spock wasnÕt.
##
Chapel
walked up to the Vulcan embassy, feeling like a damn fool. The guard at the gate took a retina scan
and went into the guard post to comm someone. Then he came back out and asked, ÒDo you
need assistance finding your way to Ambassador SpockÕs quarters, Captain?Ó
Yes,
damn it all, she did. CouldnÕt she
just go visit him in the Vulcan equivalent of the parlor?
She
nodded.
ÒSecond
staircase, fifth door on the right.Ó
ÒThank
you. Are Ambassador Sarek and his
wife here?Ó
ÒThey are off world at this time, Captain.Ó
Grand. Just goddamn grand.
She
walked into the embassy, trying to look like she belonged in this bastion of
logic. Several Vulcans nodded at
her as she passed and she nodded back.
She found the second staircase and made her way up.
Spock
was waiting at his doorway.
ÒCommander Uhura sent you.Ó
A statement, not a question. Smart boy. ÒDamned straight. You think IÕd risk making an ass of
myself without some prodding?Ó
He
seemed to have to think about that, so she pushed past him and said, ÒIt was a
rhetorical question, Spock.Ó
ÒAh.Ó He closed the door and gestured toward
one of several chairs. ÒSince you
are here, please make yourself comfortable.Ó
She
sat, but she was a long way from being comfortable. ÒAre you all right?Ó Might as well cut to the chase. Why prolong the misery for either of
them?
He
turned and walked to the window, stood looking out, his hands at his
side—she noticed his fists were clenched.
ÒSpock?Ó She got up and walked over to him.
ÒI
should have been there.Ó
She
could figure out what there he was referring to: the launch. ÒYeah, you should have. He might not be dead.Ó
When
he turned to her in surprise, she gave him a stern look. ÒThatÕs what you want to hear, isnÕt
it? ThatÕs what youÕre telling
yourself?Ó
He
closed his eyes, finally nodded.
ÒYou
might have saved him. You might not
have. He might have left you on the
bridge. Or you might have died with
him. I can spin you a hundred scenarios,
if you like?Ó
ÒI
am sure I have considered them all.Ó
ÒI
bet you have.Ó She leaned against
the window and studied him. ÒWhat
are your plans?Ó
ÒI
have no plans.Ó He met her
eyes. ÒI have the same plans as
before. I am a member of
diplomatic. Nothing has changed.Ó
ÒEverything
has changed. I feel it, too. Jim. Scotty.Ó
He
looked away. ÒYes. Everything has changed. What did Nyota think you would
accomplish?Ó
ÒI have no idea. Would you rather
she had come? I can arrange that.Ó
He
gave her a hard look. ÒI have
always looked to you.Ó
ÒYeah,
weÕll just forget about Valeris.Ó
ÒShe
was my protŽgŽ, not my lover. I
felt betrayed by her—as a sponsor would.Ó
ÒYou
just keep telling yourself that, Spock.Ó
She reached up, touched his face, and he allowed it, leaned into her
hand slightly—okay, so Ny was right, as usual: Chapel couldnÕt imagine
him letting her do this in his normal state. ÒIt seemed like more between you two.Ó
ÒIt
was not.Ó He jerked away from
her. ÒPlease go.Ó
ÒFine. IÕm not sure what I thought I would
accomplish here anyway.Ó She walked
toward the door but turned before she got there. ÒIf you need anything—I mean that
sincerely—you know where I am.Ó
ÒI
appreciate that, Christine.Ó
She
turned and walked out, hurrying through the main level,
suddenly very glad Amanda and Sarek were not home.
##
Chapel
was sitting at her kitchen counter a few days later, scanning a report she
needed to focus on but couldnÕt seem to.
Her door chime went off, and she closed down the padd, glad for the
respite.
It
was Spock.
She
moved aside. ÒPlease.Ó
He
came in, knew his way around from the times heÕd spent with her during his Pon Farrs. She followed him into the living room,
took a seat across from him. He
didnÕt say anything, just sat looking at the floor.
Really?
She got up and started to pace, feeling the restlessness she hadnÕt been able
to shake since Jim died and Scotty disappeared filling her again. ÒDo you want something to drink?Ó
ÒNo. Thank you.Ó He didnÕt look up from the floor.
ÒYou
want something, though, right? I mean, youÕre here.Ó
ÒI
am here.Ó He let out a slow breath,
the sound not one she was used to him making. He sounded...defeated. He finally looked up at her. ÒI cannot settle.Ó
ÒMe
either.Ó She walked over to
him. ÒBetween the two of us, we
have a shitload of credits.Ó
He
did not debate the preciseness of shitload, merely nodded.
ÒWe
could go anywhere we wanted if, say, we wanted to eat out.Ó
ÒYou
wish to be spontaneous?Ó
She
nodded.
ÒAre
you usually?Ó His tone was serious.
ÒAre
you kidding? IÕm paid to see
everything coming or fix it as fast as I can once it gets here. IÕm a planner, Spock.Ó
ÒAs
am I.Ó He stood up. ÒAs neither of us are doing well with
that paradigm, perhaps spontaneity will be beneficial.Ó
ÒWhere do you want to go?Ó
He
shook his head, gave a small shrug.
She
took pity on him. ÒOkay. Three choices, Mister
In the Moment. Bombay. Bangkok. Tokyo.Ó
ÒTokyo.Ó
ÒWow. See how easy that was?Ó She took his arm and then realized what
she had done. She tried to pull
away, but he put his hand over hers.
ÒChristine,
I wish to say...Ó
She
cocked her head, wondered what he wanted to say.
He
just shook his head.
ÒTokyo. Now. Whichever of us has the more pull with the
transporter gods and gets us out of waiting in line gets to spring for the
trip.Ó
He
nodded and let her lead him out of the house and down the street to the
transporter hub.
To
her shock, she had more status, so the trip was on her account. Spock paid for dinner.
A
surprisingly easy meal, as they got lost in the multiple courses of exotic
food, talking about her job, his next mission, and not talking about lost
friends or anything else that would bring them down.
Never
let it be said they couldnÕt avoid what hurt like champs.
##
ÒSo
how is he?Ó Ny was wolfing down her
salad.
ÒWhy
are you eating so fast?Ó
ÒI
have a meeting. Downside of the new
job: endless meetings.Ó
ÒYou
like it otherwise, though?Ó
Ny
nodded. ÒItÕs so strange to be back
on Earth after so long on the Enterprise.Ó
ÒStrange
nice or strange bad?Ó
ÒStrange...strange. I donÕt know. ItÕs just different.Ó She studied Chapel. ÒYou didnÕt answer my question, in case
you think your little evasion is going to work.Ó
ÒOh. That. HeÕs not great. But then neither am I. WeÕre making our way through Asia.Ó
ÒMeaning...?Ó
Chapel
laughed. ÒThatÕs not a euphemism
for kinky sex. WeÕre burning
through credits like you would not believe going out to eat far away from here. We started in Tokyo and just sort of
continued the trend.Ó
ÒWow. How many cities?Ó
ÒHalf
dozen or so.Ó She saw NyÕs pleased smile.
ÒIn a month, toots? ThatÕs
not that much.Ó
ÒUh
huh. And you went to dinner with
him how many times before?Ó
ÒNever.Ó She lifted a hand when Ny started to say
more. ÒItÕs not like that. HeÕs just at loose ends, and IÕm an easy
way to kill time. Nothing more.Ó
ÒAre
you enjoying yourself?Ó
ÒYeah. As what it is, not what itÕs not.Ó She hoped her
expression was as stern as she meant it to be. Ny did not need to get into matchmaking
mode.
ÒGood. Then youÕre helping each other.Ó
ÒIf
you say so. IÕm helping my
waistline, thatÕs for sure. Man
sure can eat when heÕs sublimating grief.Ó
Ny
laughed and said, ÒI think he likes your curves. Always has.Ó
ÒYou
persist in trying to make my times with Spock into a great romance, Ny. They werenÕt. Trust me on that, all right?Ó
Ny
nodded, pursing her mouth tightly in the way she did when she didnÕt believe
something but was not going to belabor the point.
ÒReally,
kiddo. I hate to burst your bubble
but thereÕs nothing to see, move it along.Ó
ÒAll
right. If you say so.Ó She finished her salad. ÒIÕve got to go. Wish me luck in staying awake.Ó
ÒGood
luck?Ó
Ny
laughed and hurried out of the cafeteria.
Chapel lingered, trying not to dwell on all those times that hadnÕt been
romantic—sheÕd never lied to Ny about that—but there had been some
kind of connection other than just sex.
A connection that never went anywhere—that Spock never let go
anywhere. That he let die after
each Pon Farr.
Was
it smart to spend this much time around him? SheÕd never stopped loving him, had only
learned to not show it. Was she
asking for needless heartache when Spock finally found his footing, emotionally
speaking, and didnÕt need her again until the Pon
Farr reared its ugly head?
##
ÒYou
seem pensive, Christine.Ó Spock was
staring at her and she found herself bristling. Pensive? So what if she was?
She
moved around her living room, picking up her padds, taking them to her
study. Killing time,
that was all she was doing.
All
he was doing, too.
ÒChristine?Ó He stood in the doorway to her study,
his expression one of confusion.
ÒAre we not going to dinner tonight?Ó
ÒIÕm
not hungry.Ó
ÒI
see.Ó He clearly did not see
because he was standing there, in the doorway, as if she was going to magically
become hungry and then they could go.
And
it was a lie that she wasnÕt hungry.
She was starving. SheÕd
skipped lunch because of dual crises, and that was probably part of her bad
mood: low blood sugar. As a doctor,
she knew better.
As
a woman, she was a goddamn idiot.
She tried to push past him, but he stopped her.
He
frowned and met her eyes. ÒYou are
in distress. Why?Ó
She
knocked his hand off her arm. ÒGod,
thatÕs rude. What is wrong with
you?Ó
ÒI
cannot help that I am a telepath or that you are projecting.Ó
ÒYou
could not touch me. You could help
that.Ó She tried to get by him
again, but he blocked her way without touching her. ÒDamn it, Spock.Ó
ÒWhy
are you upset?Ó
ÒWhy
are you here?Ó
He
looked as though he was trying to follow the jump in logic. ÒIs that a genuine question or some kind
of sarcastic retort?Ó
ÒI
donÕt know.Ó She leaned her head
against his chest and muttered, ÒIÕm hungry.Ó
ÒYou
are confusing me, Christine.Ó He
touched her chin gingerly, tilted it up so she had to look at him. ÒAnd you are hungry. Why did you
say you were not?Ó
ÒBecause
IÕm getting too old for these games, Spock.Ó
ÒGames?Ó
ÒEvery
seven years. Or when youÕre sad,
apparently. Otherwise you donÕt
want me.Ó
ÒChristine,
you came to me this time.Ó
ÒBe
logical at your own risk.Ó
His
eyes lightened—she amused him?
He was amused at a time like this?
ÒCome.Ó He took her arm and led her to the coat
closet. ÒIt will be cold in Ulaanbaatar.Ó
ÒThere? I donÕt want to go there.Ó
ÒThen
pick another city.Ó He waited. When she didnÕt offer anything up, he
opened the closet, grabbed her heaviest coat, and helped her into it. ÒI, too, am hungry. Which you would know if you were a touch
telepath.Ó
ÒYouÕre
dancing on my one nerve, Spock.Ó
ÒTell
me that once you have eaten. If you
wish, this will be our last meal.Ó
He
marched her out of the apartment, got her to the transporter hub, expedited
their wait without involving her, and settled them into a restaurant heÕd found
that stayed open all hours—not an easy thing in this city.
The
dishes were mostly meat based.
Served him right for pushing her into this. He managed to find things to eat, and
she gave him the vegetables off her plate.
He
looked very satisfied.
ÒNot
a word, mister.Ó
ÒIt
is just that concern for my well being—sharing your food—is a good
indicator that you are feeling better, I think.Ó
ÒUh
huh.Ó She rolled her eyes at him
but couldnÕt completely bite back the smile at the hopeful look on his
face—well, hopeful for a Vulcan.
ÒOkay, so maybe I overreacted.Ó
His
expression was a strong indicator that he agreed.
ÒI
just...I just donÕt want to make too much of this.Ó
ÒOf...dinner?Ó
ÒOf
us going to dinner.Ó She met his eyes. ÒI know I came to you first. I know itÕs illogical for me to worry
about this. But I do. Because...I care for you.Ó
He
didnÕt say anything, just waited.
ÒI
care for you a lot. And IÕm worried
that if we continue these dinners, that I will care for you even more. And then youÕll be done with me. As you always are. And where will I be?Ó
ÒAh.Ó He eyed the rice on her plate with a
note of longing.
She
scooped it onto his plate. ÒAh?Ó
ÒYou
are projecting into the future based on past occurrences.Ó
ÒItÕs
a pretty damn valid methodology.Ó
ÒAgreed. If no base variables
have changed. But they have,
have they not? You and I have been
changed by the losses we have known.
I especially.Ó He met her
eyes; his were very gentle. ÒI have
always been moved by you.Ó
ÒCould
have fooled me.Ó She knew how
childish that sounded but didnÕt care.
ÒIt
is true. I have been drawn to you,
even if, for whatever reason, I did not choose to ask for more.Ó
ÒFor
whatever reason? Try you didnÕt
really want me. If you had, youÕd
have taken me. ThatÕs how you are. ThatÕs how men are.Ó
He
nodded, and she wasnÕt sure that being right about that felt very good.
ÒYou
called our interactions in the past games.
I suggest we do away with them.Ó
ÒWhat
does that even mean?Ó
ÒI...do
not know.Ó He held up his cup of
tea to her, a surprising gesture on his part to make a toast. ÒTo uncharted territory.Ó
She
clinked her cup against his. ÒYou
sounded like Jim when you said that.Ó
ÒHe
often told me I was a fool when it came to you.Ó
ÒWell,
he was a wise man.Ó
ÒYes. In so many ways.Ó
##
The
next day, Chapel was in her office when she heard a soft cough at the
door. She looked up and saw
Spock. ÒWhat are you doing here?Ó
ÒI
came to ensure you do not skip lunch today.Ó
She
started to laugh. ÒItÕs oh eight
hundred, Spock.Ó
ÒI
did not want to assume you do not already have plans. Or appear to expect you to drop what you
are doing for me. So I am here
early to...Ó He frowned slightly.
ÒReserve
a spot on my dance card?Ó
ÒIf
that means that you will meet me in the cafeteria at thirteen hundred, then
yes.Ó
She
laughed again. ÒOkay fine. See you then.Ó As he turned, she said softly, ÒWhy?Ó
He
looked back at her. ÒYou are
insecure about our relationship and how it is developing. I thought perhaps being seen by others
here at Command would allay some of your fears.Ó
ÒFear
is a little strong. Concern is
better.Ó
ÒSemantics,
but I will allow it if it keeps you in good spirits.Ó
She
grinned. ÒGet out of here. I have work to do.Ó
He
nodded and left her alone. The
morning sped by, and she was soon walking to the cafeteria, saw him waiting
outside, talking to Admiral Van der Wallen.
ÒAh,
Chapel. Have I congratulated you on
your promotion?Ó
She
grinned. He was one of the first to
send her a comm. ÒYes, sir, you
did. As you well know.Ó
ÒI
was a big backer of you. Always
have been.Ó
ÒThatÕs
because I never gave you shit when you were still a captain and came back from
a deep space mission unable to remember your access codes.Ó
ÒThat
is a large part of it, yes. I also
appreciated the oh-so-casual way youÕd let me know the state of play at Command—what
land mines to watch out for. Old
space dog like me only knows to sniff out the kind in space.Ó His expression changed. ÒOh, you two are here together, arenÕt
you? IÕm keeping you.Ó
ÒYou
are welcome to join us, admiral,Ó Spock said, ever the diplomat.
ÒDonÕt
be so quick to include me, Ambassador.
IÕll steal her right out from under you if youÕre not careful. SheÕs a keeper, gotta
hold onto her.Ó
She
expected Spock to at least make a Òshe is not my womanÓ face, but he only
nodded, as if Van der Wallen had said something very
wise.
ÒYou
take care, Christine.Ó The admiral
gave her a fond smile and then headed back into the bowels of Command.
Spock
watched him go, then turned back to her. ÒI forget that you are significant
here.Ó
ÒI
imagine you forget about me period.Ó
She stared him down. ÒDo not
tell me that youÕve lost much time wondering about me prior to the last month.Ó
ÒAll
right. I will not tell you
that. Although I imagine you
crossed my mind more frequently than you think.Ó
ÒLetÕs
eat, all right? Much easier on my
psyche than this subject.Ó
They
got in line and Spock asked very softly, ÒWas the admiral serious? Is he interested in you?Ó
She
laughed loudly, startling the person ahead of her. ÒHeÕs happily married, Spock. After all these years around Len, you
canÕt tell when someoneÕs pulling your leg?Ó
ÒHe
appeared to view you quite fondly.
I thought it best to simply ask rather than assume he was Ôpulling my
leg.ÕÓ
ÒAh.Ó
They
reached the servers, and Spock let her be while they selected their food. As they sat in a booth along the wall,
he studied her. ÒWhy are you not
with someone?Ó
ÒWho
says IÕm not? Who says I donÕt have
a whole string of nice men IÕm with?Ó
ÒDo
you?Ó
She
laughed softly. ÒYou really donÕt
play the game very well.Ó
ÒI
thought you were tired of games?Ó
ÒOh,
sure, throw that back in my face.Ó
She shrugged. ÒI do, as a
matter of fact, have a couple of men I see from time to time. They are nice men. I like them. They like me. The sex is good.Ó She studied him to see if he would look
embarrassed or angry at her words.
His
expression was even and he said only, ÒI see.Ó He ate his salad for a bit, then looked
up and said, ÒIf our relationship continues in the manner it has been going, I
will not want you to see these other men.Ó
ÒHmmm.Ó
ÒI
am not seeing anyone else. It is
only equitable.Ó
ÒNothing
is equitable when it comes to you, Spock.
Because I care too much, and this is all new and
fun—for the moment—for you. IÕll give up my men when I think itÕs
time, not when you say it is.Ó
ÒHave
you seen them lately?Ó
She
didnÕt want to tell him no, didnÕt want to give him that, so she just shrugged.
This
time he did look a little miffed.
Did he actually care what she did—or was it not anything to do
with her, just the idea that his woman might cat around on him? A few dinners and some shared Pon Farrs did not make her his
woman.
He
seemed to be stabbing his salad with a little more vigor than before.
ÒNot
so fun being the uncertain one, is it?Ó
She was enjoying this way too much.
He
didnÕt answer.
ÒOh,
so youÕre pouting now?Ó
ÒI
am not pouting. I am considering.Ó
ÒAh. Semantics, but IÕll allow it.Ó She gave him a smug grin and was
surprised to see his eyes lighten.
This
was the connection they had after the Pon Farrs, before heÕd inevitably leave her. This banter, her ability to amuse him,
his ability to keep her on her toes with the verbal sparring. It was...arousing. And it was fun.
Why
hadnÕt he ever valued it enough to keep her around?
She
focused on eating her sandwich, making small talk that had nothing to do with personal
things. She looked up to meet his
eyes and saw he was studying her carefully.
ÒYouÕre
face gives nothing away, Christine.
That is different than in years past.Ó
ÒWork
in Ops long enough, anyone can become stone faced.Ó
ÒI
am used to being able to read you.Ó
ÒWell,
welcome to my world. Now neither of
us can read the other that well.Ó
ÒI
can tell by your tone that you are angry.
I am unsure why.Ó
ÒI
donÕt trust you to not break my heart.
But at the same time, I enjoy spending time around you. So IÕm unwilling to do the logical thing
and tell you to leave me alone. And
I get angry at that—and angry at you, because thatÕs easier than blaming
myself.Ó
ÒYour
self-awareness is commendable.Ó
ÒAre
you making fun of me?Ó
ÒNot
at all.Ó He went back to his salad.
She
waited for him to say something else, but he didnÕt. Just ate in what was a companionable
silence rather than a tense one—since he seemed to accept she was ticked
off at him but now that he knew the reason, was untroubled by it.
Did
that mean he was relieved she knew he was going to break her heart again? No surprises being a good thing? Or that he didnÕt intend to? That he wanted more from her this time?
Why
did she even care? She was an idiot. Pure and simple. The easiest thing in the world would be to
tell him no more dinners, that lunch was nice but not something she wanted to
continue. So what if she was
obviously helping him? So what if
she felt better—when she wasnÕt obsessing over things—when she was with
him? This thing between them,
whatever it was, had a shelf life probably best measured in weeks.
ÒWe
have not been to Singapore yet.
Tomorrow night?Ó he asked softly.
ÒSure,Ó
she said, wondering why it was her mouth and brain had suddenly decided acting
in tandem was overrated.
##
Chapel
sat on her balcony in her pajamas, sucking down her third glass of wine while
she ignored the chime on her door.
She knew it wasnÕt Ny—theyÕd already talked, and sheÕd told Ny she
was going home and straight to bed.
A lie, but a necessary one: sheÕd lost five people—five good
people—on a mission today. A
mission sheÕd approved. She needed
to drink and drink heavily.
Finally,
whoever it was at the door started up with a barrage
of chimes rather than a polite, every so often, ÒAre you there?Ó ping. The assault of noise clearly said, ÒI
know youÕre there.Ó
ÒFuck
it all,Ó she said as she put the wine down and stomped to the door. Whoever had braved her chime was going
to get an earful.
It
was Spock. He pushed her aside as
soon as she opened the door, holding tightly to her arms as he did it—no
doubt reading every goddamn thing she was feeling.
She
tried to jerk away, but he was holding her too tightly. He managed to close the door with a
gentle kick.
ÒWhat
are you doing here, Spock? We donÕt
have anything scheduled.Ó
ÒNyota
commed me.Ó
What
the hell? She and Ny were going to have
to have a talk on boundaries.
ÒShe
was worried, Christine. Very
worried. Do not be angry with her.Ó
ÒFine,
IÕll be angry with you.Ó She tried
to pull away, and this time he let her.
She left him standing at the door and walked back out to the balcony.
He
followed her out, taking in the bottle that sat next to the too-full glass of
wine.
ÒDonÕt
start with me, Spock.Ó She sat and
picked up the glass. ÒIÕd offer you
some, but you donÕt drink so...Ó
He
sat in the chair next to her. ÒYou
are hurting. Alcohol will not
help.Ó
ÒIs
that what you used to tell Jim?
Because his numbing agent of choice was scotch.Ó She knew this because she occasionally
was the one telling him it would all be all right while he overindulged over a
mission gone wrong. HeÕd told her
once to wait until sheÕd sent people to their deaths.
He
hadnÕt been wrong. And this wasnÕt
the first time sheÕd had to do it.
She just wasnÕt coping very well with this one. Her resiliency was nil right now.
ÒI
am well aware what Jim drank.Ó
Spock leaned his head against the back of the chair, appearing to get
comfortable, and didnÕt say anything more, just sat and looked out at the
park—she paid a lot for this view, had never felt like it was worth it
until sheÕd been promoted, when she finally wasnÕt traveling half of the time. When she had time to sit on her balcony
and enjoy the vista.
She
finished her third glass, her mind and body finally numb, and he asked, ÒWas
what you did logical?Ó
ÒDonÕt. I donÕt need you to tell me it was the
right decision. It was. That doesnÕt make it easier. If you had a heart, youÕd know that.Ó
She
felt bad immediately. That was
cruel. He had a heart: he was here,
wasnÕt he?
ÒIÕm
sorry, Spock. Why donÕt you go and
let me enjoy my drunk?Ó
ÒI
let Jim slip away, Christine. At the
end, once he retired, I let us drift apart. He was at his ranch in Idaho and I
was...Ó He
waved toward the sky. A startlingly
ambiguous gesture on his part for Òout there.Ó ÒHe was my best friend, and I scarcely
saw him. I abandoned him long
before he died.Ó
ÒHe
didnÕt see it that way.Ó
ÒPlease
do not take this the wrong way, but how would you know?Ó
She
laughed softly. ÒEvery so often
heÕd come to the Academy to lecture.
Whoever was in town—or could get to town—would go to drinks
with him. They were generally
impromptu and since you donÕt drink...Ó
He
still looked slightly stung at not having been invited. But heÕd traveled so much after the
whole thing with Valeris, been offworld more than on
usually—she wasnÕt sure any of them had thought to include him.
ÒI
was the only other person at one of them.
Jim and I talked a little about you. He was proud of you, Spock. Proud of you for the good you were
doing. He knew why you werenÕt around. It wasnÕt like you lived next door and
didnÕt see him.Ó
She
reached for the bottle, but he got to it first, gently pulled it toward him,
out of her grasp unless she wanted to get up. He dug into his pocket and handed her a
white pill.
ÒAntitox?Ó
He
nodded.
She
put it on the table. ÒIÕm not ready
to not be drunk yet.Ó
ÒAs
you wish.Ó He moved the bottle even
further out of her reach. ÒBut you
are done drinking.Ó
ÒYou
donÕt get to say that.Ó
ÒYes,
Christine, I do. You would tell
anyone who were here the same thing.Ó
ÒNot
if I also came armed with antitox. IÕd let them drink until it didnÕt hurt
anymore. Until they stopped making
sense.Ó
ÒI
do not think that is true. But if
you want the bottle, you have only to get up—I will not move it further
out of reach.Ó
ÒDo
you expect me to say thanks for that?Ó
ÒNo.Ó He closed his eyes and leaned his head
back again. ÒI am tired,
Christine. I would like you to
finish your ÔdrunkÕ and take the antitox, so we can
go to bed.Ó
She
looked over at him. He did look
tired. Very tired. ÒGo home. Go to bed. IÕm not stopping you.Ó
ÒI
wish to sleep here.Ó
ÒAnd
you think IÕll just say yes to that.Ó
He
nodded. ÒYou are hurting.Ó
ÒIf
IÕd wanted company in my bed, I have several options for that.Ó It was mean to say that, and she felt
like a bitch as soon as it was out of her mouth.
ÒIf
you wanted sex, you have options. But
comfort...?Ó He didnÕt sound hurt.
ÒBecause
you suddenly stand for comfort?Ó
ÒNot
suddenly. I always could have, is
that not true? Every Pon Farr—I had a choice and I did not choose you.Ó
Was
he trying to make her angry? She
eyed the bottle.
ÒI
was, as Jim said, a fool.Ó He
opened his eyes, reached over, and pushed the pill toward her, saying,
ÒChristine, please?Ó
She
had no resistance for earnest Spock, no antibodies in
place. She reached for the pill, let it melt under her tongue. Sobriety followed quickly. ÒFive dead, Spock.Ó
ÒI
know.Ó He stood, picked up the
bottle and her glass, and carried them into the kitchen.
She
sat out for a moment longer, then followed him
in. He had re-stoppered the wine
and put her glass in the fresher.
He held his hand out for her, turned as soon as she took it, and led her
into the bedroom. Once inside, he
let go of her, pulled off his uniform and got into bed, watching her.
She
kicked her slippers off, turned the lamp off, and got into bed with him. They lay there, both on their sides,
until she finally slid over, felt him put his arm around her and pull her
closer.
ÒAre
you here to make something up to Jim?
Because you think you let him go?
Being nice to me wonÕt bring him back.Ó
ÒI
am aware of that. I am here because
here is where I want to be.Ó
She
tried to think of an argument for that.
Found she couldnÕt. So she
snaked her arm over his chest and lay quietly.
He
fell asleep long before she did, but she found it comforting to have him there as
she replayed the events in her mind, trying to find scenarios where her people
didnÕt die, where she didnÕt have to notify their spouses, their children,
their parents.
She
found the scenarios—but these alternate outcomes brought her small
comfort. Kaidith. What was,
was. The Vulcans had it right.
##
She
woke curled around a still sleeping Spock.
She checked the chrono—almost half an
hour before she had to get up. A
luxury.
As
she shifted to get comfortable, Spock pulled her in closer to him, nuzzling
into her in a way that was utterly charming since he was unaware he was doing
it.
She
lay there, enjoying the strange feeling of him wanting her close to him with no
biological imperative spurring it on.
His skin was warm where it touched hers, where she
wasnÕt covered by the soft cotton of her pajamas.
When
the alarm went off, she reached behind her, stretching to get to it and turn it
off. ÒYouÕre not making this easy,
Spock.Ó
ÒMmmm,Ó was her answer. But he let her go and she slipped out of
bed and started her morning routine.
ÒDo
you normally sleep that deeply?Ó she asked once she got out of the shower and
had a robe around her—he was still lounging in her bed like a bona fide
layabout. ÒYou were always feeding
Len and me that routine about not needing much sleep.Ó
ÒNormally,
I do not. But since Jim died, I
have pushed myself. And I have
found sleep elusive.Ó
A
whimsical way to put it, but she understood. ÒSo what changed?Ó
ÒYou. You needed me. I could finally help. And it was perhaps what I needed.Ó
ÒYou
didnÕt let him down, Spock. He
didnÕt expect you at the launch. I
talked to him right before he left.Ó
ÒYou
can say that as often as you wish.
What you say and what I believe may never be in accord.Ó
ÒFine. Then get up and go shower. I put towels out for you. IÕll make breakfast, which you should
know consists of me pouring a protein mix into milk.Ó
ÒEfficient.Ó
ÒEfficiency
is a core value at Ops.Ó
ÒAs
it is on Vulcan. Things are rarely
efficient in diplomacy. It has proved
wearing at times.Ó He sat up and
seemed unsure whether to get out of bed in just his underwear or pull his
uniform back on.
ÒSpock,
please. IÕve seen you naked
multiple times.Ó She left him in
peace and went out to the kitchen.
He
took a very quick shower and then joined her, fully dressed, his uniform a
little wrinkled—she realized sheÕd never seen him drop his clothes on the
floor the way he had the night before.
Even at the start of the Pon Farr, heÕd still
found the wherewithal to put his clothes away neatly.
She
handed him a glass of the breakfast drink and took hers out to the balcony.
He
followed her and they stood at the railing. ÒYou have a beautiful view from here.Ó
ÒI
do.Ó She looked over at him. ÒThank you for coming over.Ó
ÒYou
did the same for me.Ó
ÒWhere
would we be without Ny?Ó
His
lips ticked up. ÒShe cares for
us. Deeply.Ó
ÒWeÕre
lucky. SheÕs a good person.Ó
ÒYes,
she is.Ó He finished his
drink. ÒI should get a fresh
uniform from the embassy. It is on
the way to Command if you wish to walk together.Ó
ÒLet
me get dressed and we can go.Ó She
finished her drink in a big swallow.
He
took her glass and cleaned up while she got ready. They walked slowly, enjoying the lovely
morning.
When
they reached the embassy, he said, ÒI am growing tired of Asian food. Perhaps another continent tomorrow night?Ó
ÒWhatever
you want.Ó She smiled at him.
ÒIt
will only take me a moment to change.
If you wish to wait.Ó
ÒAll
right.Ó She followed him past the
guards, then waited in the reception area while he
changed, nodding to the Vulcans who walked past. He was true to his word and down in no
time, and they were back on their way.
ÒWhere do you want to go?Ó he asked
as the grounds of Starfleet came into sight. ÒFor dinner.Ó
ÒI
told you. Your choice.Ó
ÒBut
if you could go anywhere, where would it be?Ó
She
grinned at him. ÒTegucigalpa for
some steak. But I canÕt see that
working for you and that area isnÕt known for its vegetarian cuisine.Ó
ÒI
will make reservations.Ó
ÒIndulging
me? Why? You already wormed your way into my
bed.Ó
His
expression was light. ÒI wish to
make you happy. I suggest you take
advantage of it.Ó
ÒNo
argument here.Ó She left him at the
main entrance and made her way to Ops.
It was only when she walked in that she realized sheÕd stopped obsessing
over the people sheÕd lost. She
hadnÕt forgotten them, but there was nothing she could do now except learn from the experience, and sheÕd considered every way things
could have gone while sheÕd waited for sleep to come. And then sheÕd finally let it go.
Spock
had been a comfort, even fast asleep.
Chapel probably owed Ny a drink.
##
Chapel
waved a waiter over to the table she and Ny had chosen. They were outside, on the wharf,
enjoying the lovely breeze and mellow day.
ÒDrinks are on me,Ó Chapel said.
ÒFor completely ignoring me the other day when I said I was all right
and sending Spock over.Ó
Ny
looked very smug. ÒI saw him in the
cafeteria today. He looked
good. You must agree with him.Ó
ÒWell,
weÕre helping each other at any rate.Ó
ÒBut
youÕre having fun, right?Ó
ÒYeah. ItÕs fine, Ny. IÕm just being careful, you know? With my heart.Ó
ÒWhen
did you get so afraid of saying you were happy? Because he looked happy—and I
spent years on the bridge with the man, so I know how different moods look on
him. DonÕt give me any lip about
Vulcan stone face.Ó
Chapel
laughed, but Ny gave her a firm look.
ÒI mean it, Chapel. When did
you get so skittish of anything lasting?Ó
ÒLasting? He and I have no track record to base
lasting on. IÕm enjoying this,
Ny. IÕll give you that. I love him—nothingÕs changed on
that front, either. But IÕm not
going to be stupid about this. It
is what it is.Ó
ÒOh,
good lord, youÕre annoying. The man
really likes you.Ó She looked at
Chapel like she was stupid. ÒLikes,
not just wants. Likes is good. Likes is crucial. And you like him. Not just love him. Not just want him. You like him.Ó
ÒIs
someone paying you to fix us up?Ó
ÒDo
not joke your way out of this.
YouÕve gotten harder and more isolated every year you spend in Ops. Let him in, Christine.Ó
Chapel
studied her. ÒWhat did he say to
you?Ó
NyÕs look was immediately innocent, in the way that meant maybe
Spock did say something to her.
ÒDid
he say I was emotionally unavailable?Ó
ÒWould
he say that? To
me, especially? IÕm your
best friend and he knows that.Ó Ny
leaned in. ÒBut itÕs interesting
you should hone in on that. Because
there are two guys you occasionally see that could probably give him notes on
that.Ó
ÒOh,
please. You donÕt even like them.Ó
ÒYouÕve
never given me a chance to like them.
You donÕt date them, Christine.
You use them. The same way
you say Spock used you. Only you
donÕt have the Pon Farr to fall back on as an
excuse.Ó
ÒThey
donÕt want to date. Just sex is
fine with them. You donÕt even know
either of them, Ny. Jesus.Ó Chapel suddenly regretted her earlier
ÒDrinks on meÓ stance.
ÒDonÕt
get that look. IÕm worried about
you. IÕve been worried about you
for a while now. We used to do more
together.Ó
ÒI
used to not be head of Ops. And
excuse me, you used to be out on a damn ship most of
the time. What are you talking
about?Ó
Ny
looked out over the water, sipped her drink, and seemed to be composing
herself. ÒLet him in,
Christine. ThatÕs what I want to
say. I didnÕt mean to make you
mad.Ó She swallowed hard. Then she turned back and looked at
her. ÒI mean it. IÕm just...I just want you to be happy,
okay?Ó
Chapel
realized that maybe this wasnÕt all about her. ÒAre you okay?Ó
Ny
shrugged.
ÒThe
job...?Ó
ÒIs
not serving under Jim Kirk, is it?
I go to meetings. I sign off
on stupid shit. I donÕt know why I
took this except the captain told me it was time to try something
different.Ó She looked over at
Christine. ÒSpockÕs not the only
one who thinks things might have been different if heÕd been at that
launch. But I wasnÕt even invited.Ó
ÒIÕm
sorry. Neither was Len.Ó
ÒI
know. I tell myself not to take it
personally. Scotty, I understood,
but Pavel?
What the hell?Ó
Chapel
laughed. ÒRight there with
you.Ó She reached out, touched NyÕs hand. ÒIÕm
sorry if IÕve neglected you.Ó
ÒItÕs
not you. IÕm just...not happy. But you like it here at Command. I know that. And I want you happy with Spock, so I shouldnÕt
complain that youÕre busy. And
youÕre doing so well. I know you
are. I know youÕre someone here.Ó
ÒI
wasnÕt invited to the launch, either.Ó
ÒNeither
were the admirals you routinely say hello to in the halls. Christine, you matter.Ó
ÒAnd
you think you donÕt?Ó
Ny
shook her head. ÒI want to get back
out on a ship. Is that stupid?Ó
ÒNot if thatÕs what will make you happy.
Life is too short, Ny.Ó
ÒMaybe
thatÕs it. Life is too short and
thatÕs never been more apparent than when weÕve lost two of our crew.Ó
Two
men Ny loved, Chapel realized. Even
if sheÕd never gotten Jim, sheÕd loved him for years. She didnÕt talk about it; she didnÕt
have to. What hadnÕt she done for
Jim? And Scotty and she had been
close for a while. Really close.
ÒIÕm sorry theyÕre gone, Ny.
I know they were important to you.
I think a ship is a great idea.Ó
ÒWhat
the hell am I waiting for?Ó She
pursed her lips and nodded. ÒIÕm
going to go for it.Ó
ÒYou
know a smaller ship might be the ticket.
Go for a first or second officer spot, stretch a little.Ó
ÒI
could do that. You know of someone looking,
I take it?Ó
Chapel
grinned. ÒI might.Ó She winked at Ny. ÒThe Saratoga
needs a new first officer. Captain
Anders is wonderful and didnÕt have a clear frontrunner last time she and I
talked. I think youÕd like
her.Ó At NyÕs
look, she laughed. ÒYes, itÕs a
woman. You could work for a woman,
trust me.Ó
ÒItÕs
strange, isnÕt it? But I never
have.Ó
ÒNew
frontiers, my dear. New frontiers.Ó
##
Chapel
heard the chime go off and then the sound of Spock letting himself in. SheÕd put him on the door a while ago,
but he seemed to like to let her know he was there by ringing the chime first.
ÒHello,Ó
she said, as he came into the bedroom.
She was sitting reading, pillows plumped behind her. She hadnÕt been expecting him today. ÒThis is a surprise.Ó
ÒI
apologize for—Ó
ÒSpock,
please. I put you on the door for a
reason.Ó She set the padd down and
smiled. ÒDid you want to go out?Ó
ÒI
do not.Ó
ÒOh. Okay.Ó
He
walked toward her, staring down at her.
ÒI have a diplomatic mission coming up. I will be gone for some time.Ó
ÒI
see.Ó
ÒYou
do not see. You persist in not
seeing.Ó
She
could feel her eyebrows going up at the unaccustomed frustration in his
voice. ÒWhat are you talking
about?Ó
ÒI
was concerned that if I came over unannounced, I would find you with one of
your other men.Ó
ÒAnd
yet you did it anyway.Ó
ÒI
wanted to know. And I did not.Ó
ÒYouÕre
making no sense.Ó She picked up her
padd and pretended to read.
He
walked over, took the padd from her, put it on the bedside table, and pushed
her to her back.
As
he moved onto the bed, she said, ÒOkay, just because you didnÕt find me
screwing someone else, doesnÕt mean you get to go for it without so much as a
by your leave. I have some say in this, buster.Ó
He
was looking at her in a way he only ever had during the Pon
Farr. As if he would die if she
didnÕt touch him.
ÒIs
it the burning?Ó
He
shook his head, not looking away from her, but not trying to kiss her either. He was lying on her lightly, the contact
leaving her in no doubt what he wanted.
And
how much he wanted it.
ÒWhat is it, then?Ó She forced
herself not to reach up to touch his face.
Not to close the gap and kiss him.
ÒI
do not wish to go offworld with our status
unresolved. I do not want to share
you.Ó
She
made a ÒTry harderÓ face and amazingly he seemed to get it, because he touched
her cheek and murmured, ÒI care for you.
I want you.Ó
She
pushed up with her hips, and he closed his eyes and moaned. ÒI guess you do, donÕt you?Ó
ÒI
said it, Christine. I am not prone
to hyperbole.Ó Something changed in
his expression, and he closed the distance between them and kissed her.
She
wrapped her arms around him and hung on for the ride. As kisses went, it was up there. Way, way, way up
there.
ÒI
want you to be mine,Ó he said, as he eased away from her enough to pull off her
clothes and his own. ÒDo you wish
this or not?Ó
ÒOnly
yours? No other men?Ó
He
nodded.
ÒWhat
about women?Ó
He
seemed to realize she was yanking his chain, his eyes finally losing some of
their intensity. ÒWould I be
allowed to join in?Ó
ÒOh
my God, thereÕs the human in you coming out. Or maybe itÕs just a male thing. No.
You would not be.Ó
ÒThen
there is a moratorium on partners of any gender—even unspecified.Ó
ÒWow,
youÕre really covering the bases, pardner.Ó
He
kissed her again, then said, ÒYou are a profoundly
clever woman and you specialize in scenarios. I must be comprehensive in my
requirements.Ó
ÒTrue
enough.Ó She reached down, started
playing with him, and he closed his eyes again, seemed to bite back what
sounded suspiciously like a whimper.
ÒIf I donÕt agree to your terms?
Then what?Ó
ÒThen
I will have to go.Ó
ÒBefore
or after we finish up here?Ó
He
gently pushed her hands off him.
ÒBefore. I will not be a man
you occasionally bed.Ó
She
knew she had the widest smile imaginable on her face. ÒI think that is the most wonderful
thing you could ever say to me, Spock.Ó
ÒYes?Ó
ÒYes.Ó
ÒI
meant it sincerely.Ó
ÒI
know that. No guy stops a woman in
the middle of a hand job unless heÕs serious.Ó
ÒThen
your answer? I would like to get
back to the sex if you are going to agree to my terms.Ó
ÒYour
terms are acceptable. YouÕre lucky
I love you.Ó
ÒYou
are not a simple woman to love, Christine.
Luck may have little to do with it.Ó
ÒSheer
stubbornness on your part is more likely, I agree.Ó She pulled him down onto her, into her,
and then closed her eyes and smiled.
ÒI love this. I always
have.Ó
ÒAs
have I. I was most remiss in not
continuing our relationship.Ó
ÒRemiss?Ó She slammed her hips up against his,
heard him groan in a ÒPlease do that againÓ way. ÒFucking remiss?Ó
ÒPick
another word, Christine. Any word
you like.Ó He began to thrust and
seemed incapable of more conversation.
She
didnÕt truthfully mind. He could
thrust with the best of them. And
for once, she didnÕt mind him being a touch telepath. He got her where she needed to go well
before he followed.
They
lay on their sides, breathing hard, and he smiled. Ever so slightly, but it was a true
smile. ÒYou are remarkable in
bed. It is no doubt why your other
men put up with you.Ó
ÒPut
up with me?Ó She laughed and rolled
him to his back. ÒAm I so bad that
only sex offsets the effort?Ó
ÒFor
them. As you did
not love them. For me, no.Ó
ÒI
think what you just said was actually kind of romantic.Ó
ÒI
endeavored to make it so. Romance
has been lacking from our previous encounters.Ó
ÒI
donÕt think you can compare everything to the Pon Farrs. YouÕre
grading way off the curve on that one.Ó
ÒAgreed. We will establish our own baseline,
then.Ó
ÒYou
make science sound sexy. Well
done.Ó She saw some parts of him
were clearly focused on sexy things, so she climbed aboard, and rode him the
way she loved to.
His
kiss was very tender when she got done.
The way he touched her moved her more than she would ever
admit—but she didnÕt have to admit it: he could feel it, no doubt.
ÒSo
how long are you going to be away?Ó
ÒToo
long.Ó
She
started to laugh. ÒYou are turning
into a romantic sap. Where is my padd?
I want to record this for
posterity. When IÕm bitching at you
some day for being cold and unfeeling, you can play this back for me.Ó
His
little smile was back. ÒYou will
not have to.Ó He snuggled down next
to her, pulling her in, seemed to be unwilling to not touch her. ÒI will be gone for three weeks at
least.Ó
ÒIÕll
miss you.Ó She twined her fingers
with his. ÒYou donÕt expect me to
give up my job and come with you, do you?Ó
ÒI
do not.Ó He touched her cheek,
running his finger down to her throat and back up the other side. ÒPart of me, however, will always wish
you were there.Ó
ÒThatÕs
okay. Part of me will, too.Ó
FIN