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) 2006 by Djinn. This story is Rated PG-13.

Parallels and Intersections

by Djinn

The rec lounge was empty--Chapel supposed too many people had lived too many embarrassing moments under the effect of the Psi 2000 virus to want to party now. She wandered to the viewport, staring out at the streaming stars.

She'd betrayed Roger. She'd taken what had been an infatuation and turned it into a declaration of love for a man who would never love her. And meanwhile her fiance was out there somewhere. Alone, possibly hurt or dying. Maybe dead. And she was making fever-induced googly eyes at Spock.

She bumped her head against the viewscreen, then did it again.

"It won't help."

She turned, saw that someone was sitting in a shadowed area of the room--he had a perfect view of her. "Are you sure?"

"Yep. Tried it myself. Can I buy you a drink, Nurse Chapel?"

She realized she was sharing her misery with the captain and blushed deeply. He just laughed, then called for lights. He was out of uniform, holding a clear drink in a glass full of ice.

She shook her head. "I think I've had enough artificial help for one day." But she walked over to where he sat, took the chair next to him. "What's your poison?"

"Water."

It figured. He never seemed to let down, never let go. Not when he had all of them to care for.

"I made a fool of myself today, sir."

"We all did, Christine."

She was surprised he knew her name. She'd been on the ship such a short time--although she probably had made an impression on him when she'd pleaded her case to get on the Enterprise, the fastest ship heading in the right direction to find Roger. She doubted anyone else had used true love as the reason for nabbing such a plum assignment. Of course, it hadn't hurt her case that she'd been seriously overqualified for her job.

Kirk leaned back. "What did you do that was so embarrassing?"

"Spock didn't tell you?" She'd been sure he'd tell Kirk. Maybe even ask for her to be assigned to a different shift so he wouldn't have to see her. Although if he wanted to stick her on graveyard, Spock probably didn't have to ask Kirk. McCoy might want to know what the hell Spock thought he was doing reassigning his head nurse, but Kirk probably wouldn't care one way or the other.

"You did something to Spock?"

"I told him I was in love with him."

"You and half the crew." Kirk shook his head. "It's his indifference that does it, it's gotta be. If he could just bottle that and give it to the rest of us."

It was her turn to laugh. "As if you need any help..."

His smile faded. He turned to her, studying her with eyes gone a bit sad. "I see the rumors are still raging."

"Rumors?" She suddenly wished she had a glass of water so she could sip it and pretend she hadn't just insulted her captain.

"Captain Cock. Isn't that what they call me?"

It was; she didn't say so.

"If I were half as successful as they say..."

"You'd still be pretty damn busy." She saw his look and started to laugh, and then he started to laugh, too. She smiled, leaning her head back. "You deserve to have fun. Just because you're in the big chair doesn't mean you're not human."

"Doesn't it?"

"Nope. Sorry."

"Are you?"

She frowned, a little confused. "Am I sorry?"

"Are you in love with Spock?"

"I'm in love with Roger."

"Well, that's good since it's how you convinced me to let you on this ship."

"And I am in love with him. I don't know why I said what I said to Spock."

Kirk sighed. "Roger's been gone a long time. And you're not dead. If you did fall in love--or into some kind of infatuation--with someone else, don't beat yourself up about it. Nobody's perfect."

"We can't help what's inside us?"

"Nope. We sure can't."

"But I could have controlled it better."

"Maybe. Maybe not." He finished his water. "I'll let you have the room." Getting up, he threw a last look out at the stars. "Are you ever sorry I let you on the ship?"

"No, sir. Even if I never find Roger, I at least tried. And in a good place, with a good crew--and captain."

He smiled. "Good night, Christine."

"Good night, sir."

The room seemed almost too quiet once he was gone.

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

Chapel sat laughing with Janice and Sulu when the door to the rec room opened and Kirk walked in. She saw Janice flush, then the color faded, leaving her very pale.

"Jan?"

"I have to go." Janice practically fled.

"I have to go, too." Sulu rushed after her.

Kirk watched them go, his face not giving away a thing.

Chapel stared at the door, then back at him. Seeing him look over, she patted the seat next to her. He walked slowly, as if he didn't want to talk to her.

Sitting carefully, like a very old man, he said, "Did she tell you what happened?"

"Yes."

"It wasn't me." He rubbed his eyes, hard, like a kid might do. "And it was me."

"As I understand it, it was only part of you. A part of you that you would normally have had under control."

"I hurt her."

"She hurt you back."

He laughed, a puff of air making a bitter statement, as he touched his cheek. "She did."

"You told me we can't help what's inside us."

"We can't. But we can keep it from coming out." He seemed to be about to get up, probably to get a drink.

She was afraid he wouldn't come back, so she pushed her own untouched drink into his hand.

He looked down at it dubiously, as if expecting something frilly with crushed ice and a little umbrella. "This is--"

"Single malt scotch. Drink up, sir."

He drank up, throwing it back and putting it down on the table with a clang that made the people to the side of them look over. "Damned beast inside me."

"We all have a beast inside us."

"Fine, but we all don't let it out."

"It's not as if you asked for that. It was an accident. And it's over, you're whole again. Things will go back to normal."

"Right. Whole." He turned to her, his eyes boring into hers. "And since you told Spock that you loved him, has everything gone back to normal?"

She looked down. Spock hadn't transferred her, but he'd avoided her like she was a Tymapial Plague carrier.

"I rest my case." He got up, his movements jerky, as if he hadn't fully reintegrated the beast and the lamb. "Good night, Christine."

"Good night, sir."

She saw Spock pass Kirk in the doorway. He looked after the captain with a concerned expression. Then he turned and saw her, and seemed to pause.

She got up, walked quickly to the recycler, trying to make it clear she wasn't staying.

"Mister Spock," she said, as evenly as she could as she passed him.

"Nurse," he replied. Not even "Nurse Chapel." Just "nurse." Just a title.

It stung. She tried to push it down, where her own beast lay chained. She knew the pain wouldn't stay there.

----------

Chapel watched on her terminal as Exo III dwindled to a tiny ball of ice and painful memories. She turned off the terminal, stared at the blackness for a long time until the chime of her door forced her back to the present--a present without Roger.

"Come in."

Kirk walked in. He still looked a little pale from the things Roger had done to him--how could Roger have done those things?

"Captain?"

"I wanted to check on you."

"I'm all right. You're very sweet to check on me, but I'm fine." She tried to wave him away; her hand trembled violently.

"You're not fine. You've been pretending, and I know you're a strong woman at your core. But you're not fine."

"I am. I will be. If you leave me alone." It was a rude thing to say to anyone, but especially to a captain who had made a special trip. A captain who had been tormented by the man she loved--the man who had put her into this state of "not fine."

Kirk didn't leave, didn't even seem offended. He took the chair across from her, sitting back, crossing his arms across his chest. Waiting.

She looked down, unwilling to see compassion in his eyes. Or condemnation.

"You spent some time alone with him," Kirk finally said into the silence.

"Yes."

"You made love to him, didn't you?"

She tried to swallow, couldn't. Did one make love with a machine? She'd taken a shower--long, very hot--as soon as she'd gotten back on the ship. Her skin still hurt from how hard she'd scrubbed it.

He pushed his chair out, stood. "You're right. It's none of my business."

"I did. I had sex with it." She couldn't call it making love. Not when she couldn't call Roger anything but it.

Kirk sat back down.

"I thought it was him. A very-happy-to-see-me him." She laughed, but it came out as a sob. She realized she was crying, dashed the tears away. "He wasn't usually that amorous. But then he wasn't usually a man-sized pleasure toy. With a woman-sized pleasure toy of his own."

"He found Andrea there, Christine."

"No, he didn't." She met his eyes, forcing herself to tell him this truth, to admit this truth. "Once he and I got engaged, he didn't want me to be his assistant anymore. He found a new one."

"Andrea?"

"Andrea. Lush little thing, didn't you think? Very secure in her own sexuality." She laughed, again it came out as a sob. "Not insecure like me."

"You're not insecure."

"I was about him. Especially when he hired her." She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, sir. You don't want to hear all this."

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to listen to whatever you need to say."

"I don't want to talk about him anymore. My fiance died a long time ago."

"All right, Chris." He looked thoughtful. "I'm sorry. You don't go by that name, do you?"

"Maybe I should? Maybe I'd have better luck as Chris?" She looked away. "I think I'd like to be alone now, sir."

"Okay." He got up, seemed to be staring down at her, but she didn't look up to see what expression was coloring his face. She didn't want to know, knew that just about any expression he could pick would send her to a place she didn't want to go.

She was fine. Roger had died a long time ago. She was fine.

She felt Kirk's hand on her shoulder, a gentle squeeze, then a whispered, "If you need anything...?"

"Thank you."

She waited until he was gone to turn the terminal back on and begin the letter to Roger's family. She saw that a memo was waiting for her, from Kirk with the details of his report--his not-quite-true report--to Starfleet Command.

So they could get their stories straight, no doubt. Even in such a small thing, he was looking out for her.

---------

Chapel sat alone in the booth in the mess. Normally, Janice would be sitting here. Filling her in on the latest gossip--but never about the captain. Janice had never abused the access she had.

And now Janice was gone. Transferred off. She'd finally given up on Kirk the way Chapel should probably give up on Spock.

Jan was a lot stronger than Chapel was, as it turned out.

"I'd ask if this seat's taken, but I know it's not." Kirk stood at her table, tray in hand. "Am I welcome?'

"Yes." She tried to show him that with a smile.

"Not very convincing, Chris." But he sat down anyway. "I'm sorry."

"For what? For not loving her? For not letting yourself love her?" She leaned forward. "Did you love her?" He'd seemed to be interested in that Lenore Karidian, at least until she'd turned out to be a homicidal maniac--Chapel knew how that felt.

"I don't know if I can love." Kirk pushed his meal around his plate, not really eating any of it.

"There's no actual nutrition in food if all you do is play with it." She smiled gently at him.

He didn't smile back. "How much do you know about me?"

"I know some things." Admittedly not as many things as Jan did, although she'd learned a lot by being Janice's confidant. Just as Jan had probably found out more about Spock than she'd ever wanted to know just from listening to Chapel go on.

"You know about Tarsus IV, though? Kodos? That I was there? That I...?"

"Survived? I know about that." And she hadn't needed Janice to tell her. It was in the captain's psych profile.

"I'm not sure all of me survived."

"What do you mean?"

"Other captains find love. On their ships, even." He sighed, and the sound seemed angry. "God, listen to me. Obviously the past few weeks have gotten to me."

She didn't think it was their standoff with the Romulan ship that had him this on edge. "You miss Janice, don't you?"

He looked like he might bolt. Then he said, "I do," and followed the admission up with a bite of food.

Jan would love to hear that Kirk was thinking of her, but Chapel didn't think she'd tell her. Some things were better left alone.

"She was right to leave, sir. You don't have a future together." If only Chapel could get that from her own head to her heart. If only she could give up on Spock enough to find a new path.

"I know." He gave her a sad smile, then went back to eating.

They finished the rest of the meal in silence.

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

The party was winding down as Chapel entered the lounge. She saw Kirk standing in the middle of a group of well wishers. He was smiling broadly--the smile that usually meant he'd had a little bit more to drink than he meant to.

She walked to the bar that had been set up, ignoring the hopeful look on temporary bartender Ensign Kallova's face--the man had been hitting on her since he had come on board. "Scotch," she told him. "Single malt."

"Wouldn't you rather have one of my special drinks?" Kallova leaned in. "Very strong. Very sweet. Like you."

"That is the worst pick-up line I have ever heard, Ensign." Kirk pushed in next to her, his shoulder pressed up against hers. "Pour her a scotch and refill this one." He glanced over at her. "I'm not guilty, in case you didn't hear how the court-martial came out?"

"I didn't think we'd be having a party if you'd been found guilty."

"Well, we might have. I'd just be a lot less happy and a lot more drunk." He grinned at her.

She laughed. "I'm glad you won, then."

Kallova poured their drinks without comment, although he looked fairly pouty. Kirk moved them off, toward a tall table that two crewmen immediately vacated for him.

"Oh, look a free table. Rank does have its privileges," she murmured.

"I hate it when they do that. Like I'm going to make them give up their fun so I can be comfortable..."

"How much have you had to drink, sir?"

"Oh, don't lecture me, Chris. I saw an old girlfriend. Another one I couldn't commit to. Although, she sort of left me, too. Damn, she looked good."

Chapel tried to fight her laughter, finally gave up. "It was a nice reunion, I take it?"

"Oh, yes. Well, if you don't count that she was prosecuting the hell out of me. And Areel is really good at what she does."

"But you beat her."

"That's what I do, right? I win." He looked down.

"What?"

"I found out how many people don't like me."

"There are a lot of people who do like you--even love you, sir. I offer this party as exhibit one. I offer the fact that there were at least three plans to break you out of the brig and run for the badlands as exhibit two through four."

He grinned at her. Then the happiness faded. "I'm serious, though. My peers don't like me."

"Yeah, well, the nurses aren't especially fond of me, either. You learn to get over it."

He looked surprised. "They're not?"

"I have more degrees than the next three in the chain have together. And they know that I was on my way to being a doctor. I've heard the word 'slumming' bandied about when they think I'm not paying attention."

"I didn't realize." He frowned. "McCoy's never said."

"McCoy's too busy using me as a junior physician to care what his nurses think of me. He doesn't pay a whole lot of attention to the dynamics." She took a sip of her scotch. "And they hide it from him, and I don't go to him with it, so why would he know?"

"Are you coming to me with it?" He looked like he was ready to do something about it.

"No. Just venting." She smiled.

She saw him relax a little, the captain ready to hand out discipline giving way to...to a what? A friend?

"Well, venting's okay."

"You can vent to me, if you want."

"I don't need to vent." He swirled the amber liquid in his glass. "It's just...I guess I found out who my real friends were."

"Well, you've got a ton of them here, and they're waiting to talk to you." She slid off the stool. "And I have a certain Vulcan to go terrify."

"When are you going to give up on him, Chris?"

"I keep asking myself that, sir. But if I give up on him, what would McCoy tease me about?"

Kirk's expression grew a little grim. "He's not very nice the way he does that."

"No, he's not. But he does it because he's frustrated with me. And he cares; he just has a rather caustic way of showing it." She shook her head. "He's right, though. Everything he says is right."

"He could say it a little nicer."

"But then it wouldn't be him. And I like him. A lot." She took a deep breath, saw Spock glance over at her and move deeper into the crowd and decided to hell with him. "Goodnight, sir."

"I thought you were going to...?"

"Not tonight, I think. Consider it my way of celebrating your victory. Spock certainly will be extra happy."

"Okay. Good night, Chris." He got up, was soon surrounded by a group of friends and admirers.

She smiled, watching them for a moment, then, without looking again to see where Spock was, she left.

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

Chapel downed her scotch, wanting to throw the empty glass at the viewport, where Omicron Ceti III was still looming.

Kallova walked over and handed her another scotch. "This one's on me." He sat down. "You know, you're one of the prettiest women on board."

"Oh, shove your flattery up your ass, Sergei. You want to sleep with me. And you're trying to get me drunk and into your bed--or to get yourself into my bed, because you probably have a roommate."

"Christine. I only meant--"

"That you want to screw me. Just be honest about it, why don't you?" She threw back the scotch.

"If I were honest, would it get me anywhere?"

"Belay that question," Kirk said, handing Chapel another drink. "And skedaddle, Ensign."

"Sir, I--"

"If skedaddle isn't clear enough for you, Kallova, I can assign you an extra shift."

"Skedaddling now, sir."

"Party pooper." She stuck her tongue out at Kirk.

He reached for the drink he'd given her. "Maybe you've had enough?"

"Take it and die."

He laughed. "You've definitely had enough." He sat down in the seat Kallova had vacated so rapidly. "Were you going to sleep with him?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"Hmm."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" She sipped at her scotch--he was right, she'd had enough to drink.

"You get surly when you get drunk." He looked over at the ugly, ugly planet. "I'll be glad to see the last of this place." He glanced over to where Chapel was trying desperately not to look. "I bet you will, too."

She followed his gaze. Spock sat talking earnestly with Doctor Kalomi. He'd been doing a lot more than talking when she'd seen them on the planet.

"She's a pretty thing. Delicate." Chapel looked away, trying to push down the pain. "He cares for her."

"Yes, I think he does."

"You're supposed to say that he doesn't." She glared at him.

"Sorry. Not really my role to lie to you."

"Not when I'm doing such a bang-up job of lying to myself, you mean?" She lifted her glass to him.

He put his glass down, refusing to toast. "That's not what I meant."

"Bring back Kallova. He was more fun and at least he wanted me."

"You shouldn't assume things, Chris." He winked at her.

"What the hell does that mean?"

He grinned.

"Sir, you can't just say things like that..." Then she squinted at him--there were sort of two of him. How much had she had to drink? "You're just saying that to distract me."

"Is it working?"

"Yes."

"Good." He took her drink away. "I really do think you've had enough."

She didn't fight him. She was suddenly very tired.

"Can I walk you home, Miss Chapel?"

"Are you going to tuck me in, too?" She knew she sounded very surly again.

He just laughed. "That's not part of my captainly duties."

"Well, good. Because there'll probably be vomiting." The room had started to spin.

Sighing, he shook his head. "You're not as smart as I thought you were." He pressed something into her hand.

She looked down, saw a little white tablet. "Antitox? Oh, you're my hero." She slipped the pill under her tongue, and it dissolved immediately, and the room stopped spinning.

"Better?"

She nodded.

"Come on, then." He got up, waited for her.

As they walked to her quarters, she said, "I don't need an escort."

"I know. But I'm old fashioned."

She smiled. Then she remembered Spock and the way he'd been looking at Leila--both on and off the planet. "It hurts, sir. To see them."

"I know it does. I've had to watch women I cared for find other men. It never felt good."

She stopped at her door, turned to look at him. "I can't imagine wanting to find another man if I could have had you." She blushed. "I mean..."

He laughed, but he also looked a little pleased. "Guess that antitox hasn't fully kicked in yet?"

"Guess not." She turned to her door, then turned back. "Sir, if that was out of line...?"

"Why don't you call me Jim when we're alone? I'm getting very tired of all this formality."

"Really?"

"Really. Try it. Tell me good night."

She smiled. "Good night...Jim." She stumbled over the name.

"Practice that. In the mirror if you have to." He grinned at her. "Good night, Chris."

"Jim?" It sounded better this time.

He turned.

"Thank you."

"You'd do it for me." He smiled at her, then he turned and walked away.

She felt the last remnant of inebriation fall off, felt exhaustion take its place. Going into her quarters, she pulled her uniform off and fell into bed.

She only cried over Spock for a few minutes before sleep took her.

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

Chapel stood at Kirk's door, unsure if she should ring the buzzer. She heard footsteps, thought it might be Spock or McCoy coming down the corridor, and hit the chime.

"Come," she heard through the intercom as the door opened. Jim sounded sluggish. He looked up. "Chris."

"Sir."

He frowned. "I told you to call me Jim. You've been calling me Jim. Why the hell aren't you calling me Jim now?" He moved awkwardly, and she realized he was very drunk. "You came to comfort me, didn't you? I don't need you. I have this." He held up his glass, then stood up, walking to a cabinet near his terminal. "Can I offer you some alcoholic comfort?"

"No, I'm fine."

"Oh, but this is a wake, Chris. I can't drink alone at a wake." He refilled his glass, grabbed a new one and poured her what had to be five fingers of scotch--she was glad she'd brought antitox with her. "We're just having this wake about three hundred years too late."

She took the scotch from him.

"To Edith Keeler." His voice broke on the woman's last name. He turned away, but not before she'd seen tears.

"Jim, I'm so sorry."

"You know, too. You know what it's like to watch the person you love die. Only, you didn't have to kill the person you loved. You didn't have to let it happen." He turned to her, breathing hard, his face flushed. "I let the woman I loved die, Chris. What kind of monster does that make me?"

"You had to." She'd just come from hearing the story from McCoy. McCoy's drink of choice had been bourbon. Fortunately, he hadn't expected her to drink with him. "You didn't have a choice."

"Oh, you mean like you didn't have a choice when Andrea blew Roger and herself away? I'm afraid you're wrong, Chris. I had a much bigger role in this. I practically pushed her under the damn wheels." He stared at her, and a tear rolled down his cheek. "I killed her."

"I know." She tried to take the glass of scotch from him.

He jerked it away, splashing them both. "I'm not Spock. I don't need you fawning all over me. Trying to make this better." He moved away from her. "You can't make it better. It'll never get better."

"Jim, let me help."

He whirled, grabbing her by the shoulder, shaking her. "Don't you say that. Don't you dare say that." Then he dropped his glass, pulling her to him, holding her so close it hurt. But he was crying, and she didn't complain, didn't try to get him to loosen his hold. "Chris, what am I supposed to do?"

She tried to talk, couldn't get words out. Realized she was crying too. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to find the words, to get them out. "Live. Hurt. Go on."

His grip tightened, and she cried out. He immediately let her go, his expression stricken. "I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't mean to say--"

"Shhh." She smoothed back his hair. "Open your mouth."

He did, like a little child, and she shoved an antitox under his tongue. He closed his eyes, shivering a little.

"Come on." She guided him to the bed, pulled back the covers and made him sit down. Then she pulled his boots off and started to take off his uniform.

"Chris...no."

"Jim, there's no part of you I haven't seen in sick bay. You can keep your underwear on, all right?" She smiled gently, keeping her eyes locked on his as she undressed him.

He took a ragged breath, but she could tell that the antitox was working. "I won't be able to sleep."

"Yes, you will." She pushed him down, covered him up. All but one arm. She had the hypo out and was spraying the sedative into him before he could react.

"Chris, what...?"

"Sleep now." She stayed with him until he fell asleep.

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

Chapel was about to palm open her door when she heard Spock say, "Miss Chapel?"

She stopped, hearing the new tone in his voice--fearing the new tone in his voice now that she understood what had been making him act so strangely. She turned. "Mister Spock. What can I do for you?"

"There is much you can do for me." His eyes seemed to burn. "But I would rather not speak of such things in the corridor."

"I think I would." She saw his surprise.

He moved toward her. Was he going to corner her the way he had before? If she hadn't told him they were bound for Vulcan, would he have had sex with her?

"It is illogical to protest against our natures." His voice was almost a caress.

"What does that mean, exactly?"

Again he looked surprised. "Christine, perhaps we could continue this conversation somewhere more private?"

"I know what happened to you."

He looked away. "Such things are best left unspoken."

"Okay, fine, but what you're saying has to do with what happened to you. Doesn't it?"

He met her eyes. "It does."

She moved closer. "You're...in need. Of me. Or of a woman, anyway. Right?"

He seemed confused at the tone in her voice; he probably wasn't liking the coldness she knew was in her eyes, either. But she'd seen his wife, she'd seen what he'd done to Jim to keep that woman who didn't want him. If Spock had seemed to desire Chapel sexually, it was because of that Vulcan beauty. And now it was just a side effect of not having had her. This had never had anything to do with Chapel.

"I find that I am remembering our conversation," he said. "The one we had in my quarters. I would like to continue it."

"Will you die if we don't continue it?"

He seemed to have no words, just shook his head slowly.

"Then perhaps a monologue would be preferable to a dialogue."

His face flushed, his skin growing almost olive green. "Your humor is not appreciated."

"That wasn't really humor, Spock. If you knew me better, you'd realize that." She took a step back, hit the door. She felt trapped, and she sidestepped, getting away from him. "I'm sorry, Spock. I just can't."

He didn't try to stop her as she fled to the most crowded place she could think of. The mess was full of people; the only table free was Jim's. She practically threw herself into the booth opposite him.

"Do you care that I might have someone joining me?" He looked up from his steak. "You could be seriously cramping my style, Chris."

"You aren't expecting anyone, are you?"

He must have heard the desperation in her voice, because his expression changed to one of concern. "What's wrong? Is it Kallova again?"

She started to laugh--a little too loud. She forced herself to stop. "No, it sure wasn't Kallova this time."

Jim met her eyes, seemed to understand. "You turned him down?"

"I did. Oh, God, I did." She closed her eyes, trying to get the picture of Spock's burning eyes out of her mind. "Should I go back and say yes?"

"If you'd wanted to say yes, I think you would have said it." He put his fork down. "Why didn't you want to? You've waited for so long?"

She thought about that before answering. "I'll never know why he wanted me. Was it me or the burning? And what if it wasn't me? What if he woke up tomorrow and didn't want me anymore?" She kept her voice low, not meeting his eyes.

"Those are all the right questions." Kirk fingered his neck. "I can tell you from experience that the burning can make him do drastic things. He nearly killed me for a woman I don't think he even loves."

"I did the right thing." She nodded, knowing she was trying to convince herself. "I should wait and see if he asks me again. When he's all better. Right?"

"I think so."

She hid her face in her hands. "What if this is the only time he asks me?"

He reached over, pulling her hands away so she had to look at him. "Then you'll know you absolutely made the right choice." He smiled. "Go get some food. I hate eating alone."

"I'm not hungry."

"Then go get me some dessert. Something you normally wouldn't approve of."

"Okay." She got up and grabbed some coffee for herself and some chocolate pie for him.

He smiled at her choice. "There's a vid tonight that looks good. If you don't want to go back to your quarters just yet?"

"You think I'll lose my resolve and go to him?"

His expression was lacking any mirth. "I think he might come back."

"You do?"

He nodded as he pushed his plate away and pulled the pie toward him. "Want some?"

"I'm fine." She watched him eat. "Do you not want me to say yes to him?"

"As your captain, I think it would be a bad idea. He's not fully in his right mind."

"And as my friend?"

"I think you'll get hurt." He held out a piece of pie, and she gave up on being strong and took it.

"It's good."

"Yes, it is. You chose well."

"Is there any other reason you don't want me with him?"

He didn't look up from the pie. "If there were, I wouldn't admit it to you."

Suddenly, she felt as if there was a strange awkwardness between them. "Is there?" She sounded like a little girl, her voice cracked and high.

"There might be." He took a deep breath and looked up at her. "So, vid tonight?" There was nothing in his expression to show what he'd just said.

"Sure." She tried to keep her own expression normal.

He smiled tightly. "This has been a hard time for all of us. Things being said that normally wouldn't be. Things being contemplated that normally wouldn't be."

"You're contemplating things--those kinds of things?"

"I meant you were." He winked at her.

"Oh. My mistake." She tried to wink back, had never been very good at it.

"Let's go contemplate the vid instead." He got up, taking their dishes to the recycler before joining her at the door.

She wondered if Spock was at her quarters again, buzzing to see if she'd returned.

Jim seemed to know what she was thinking. "Do you want to go find him or do you want to come with me?" His voice lacked judgment either way.

She took the time to think about it. Finally said, "You. I want to go with you."

She thought she saw a flicker of relief in his eyes before he turned and led them out of the mess.

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

Chapel walked over to where Jim lay. His face was pinched. "Are you in pain?"

"No. Being stabbed and having to hide that fact feels great."

She smiled as she held out a hypospray. "I bring relief." She held it to his arm, let it go and saw his jaw relax a little. She turned to leave, felt his hand on her arm.

"Stay?"

"If you like." She pulled a chair over and sat. "So, Sarek and Spock seem to have made up. Well, they're talking, anyway."

"You seemed to get along great with his parents." He grinned--a slightly drugged-up grin, but it was still pretty.

"Too bad I don't get alone with their son half as well."

"Spock marches to his own drummer."

"Spock marches to his own full orchestra, Jim."

He laughed, then grimaced. "Hurts to laugh."

"Sorry." She leaned back. "It's been a long few days."

"Yes, it has."

"You should go to sleep."

He grinned at her again. The effect was marred by a huge yawn. "You should, too. Get out of here."

"I'll leave when you fall asleep."

"Liar."

"Okay, I'll leave once I think I should leave...and you've fallen asleep."

His eyes were closing, and she could tell he was trying to fight to stay awake.

She leaned in, said softly, "Jim, just let go."

"Bossy," he muttered. Then he seemed to let go. He was asleep a few minutes later.

She watched the monitors for a while, until she was sure he was going to be all right. Then she went back into her office to finish up her reports.

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

Jim came rushing into sickbay for his check-up. Chapel smiled at his energy. It was such a relief to see him as he should be, not as an old man.

"I know, I know. I'm late. Again." He hopped up on the table.

"It's nice to see you're back to your old self."

"Funny, Chris."

"I'm a comedian." She watched the monitors, then ran her scanner over him. "So, Doctor Wallace on her way home?"

He nodded.

"You all right with that?"

"I'm all right."

"She was very worried about you, Jim. It was obvious she still cared. A lot."

"I didn't figure you for a matchmaker." There was something in his tone that told her to drop it.

She didn't, of course. "You could keep in touch."

"I could."

"You, as in you all. As in the two of you."

"Do you want that?" He shot her a funny look.

She turned away, adjusting the settings on the scanner.

"You seemed pretty worried about me, too."

"I was." No point in telling him that the idea of him dying of untimely old age had left her feeling empty and cold. It had also left her very worried about how much she was starting to care.

"Chris, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. I was worried about all of you. Spock, too."

"Spock, especially, you mean?"

"Yes. That's what I mean." She tried to stare him down, found she couldn't.

"What are you doing, Chris?"

"Jim, give it a rest. I'll stop talking about Doctor Wallace if it makes you so grumpy."

He frowned at the word. Grumpy meant old, and she'd picked it on purpose.

"Fine. You do that." He sat up. "Are we done here?"

"Yep." She gave him her most vacuous smile. "You can get back to work. All systems go."

He looked very confused. "Fine. I'll see you later."

She nodded, busying herself with the scanner as if it was the most fascinating thing ever.

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

"What a mess," Jim said, as he watched Spock sleep. "Tyree's bound and determined to go to war; Nona's dead. Spock nearly died." He sighed. "I don't know what I thought I was doing."

"Sometimes things just don't go right."

"That's the understatement of all time." He glanced at her. "Been playing the devoted nurse?"

"I don't have to play at it, Jim." She remembered how she'd been holding Spock's hand. How she couldn't bring herself to slap him the way M'Benga had said he needed.

"He's going to be fine, Chris. Buck up." Jim turned to go. Then he turned back. "What the hell is going on with you? Why are you being so cold?"

"I'm not." She didn't want to tell him how worried she'd been about him on this mission, and on the earlier ones. How she'd hated watching him fight on Triskellion. How worried she'd been at his obsession with catching the cloud creature--too worried. More than just friendly concern.

Jim stared at her, then turned on his heel and walked out.

Chapel watched him go.

"You care for him?" Spock's voice was gravelly.

"Of course I do. He's the captain."

"That is not what I meant."

"What difference does it make to you?" She turned to him. "Or are you interested in him for yourself?" She'd never been sure. Spock's devotion to Jim was becoming legendary.

"He is my friend."

"Ah." She turned to go.

"He seems to care for you, as well."

"You know his policy, Spock. I certainly am aware of it." She forced her expression into one of perfect composure, then turned back to him. "I have no interest in the captain."

"I see."

"Or in you. I'm over you. Really."

"Yes, that is why you were so attentive while I was in the healing trance."

"If you were in a healing trance, how would you know?"

"Excellent question." He closed his eyes. "You should not be so cold to him, Christine. He is a good man."

Chapel hurried away. She should not be getting relationship tips from a Vulcan.

---------

Chapel walked to Jim's table in the mess. "Mind if I join you?"

"Joining is really not the word you want to use, right now, is it?" He looked up, wearing the slightly distant look she knew that she too sported since Spock's consciousness had shared her mind.

"Good point. Can I sit?"

"Yes." He smiled at her. "Listen, I'm sorry about the other day."

"I am, too. You were right; I was cold. And I shouldn't have been." She took a deep breath. "I get very worried about you, and it...frightens me. Bothers me. Concerns me."

"Very worried?"

"Very, very." She looked down, spearing a chunk of lettuce and eating it slowly.

"Are you telling me this because you and Spock have finally come to an understanding?"

She looked up at him, startled. Then she started to laugh. "Maybe. But not the kind of understanding you think. I learned a lot, having him in my head. For example, there