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) 2009 by Djinn. This story is Rated R.
Asunder
by Djinn
Part 1: Parting
The ship seemed to speak to
Chapel and had ever since she'd decided she was going to leave it. Every vibration, every hail and comm, every
viewscreen that showed her the stars at warp seemed to be a part of her.
"Nervous
yet?" Len asked, leaning past
her to grab a hypo.
"Yet? I've been
nervous for days and I don't think it's going away anytime soon."
He laughed and waved off the
butterflies. "Medical school is
nothing. You'll be fine."
"Uh
huh." She used to excel at school. But this ship had become her refuge. Her sanctuary. At times her prison. But hers, dammit. She'd
convinced Kirk to give her a place and while at the time it might have been
only to find Roger, since then she'd earned her spot on the Enterprise. It had been challenging at first, but now it was
a safe job she could do in her sleep.
Actually, she had done it in her sleep a few times. Round-the-clock shifts were a bitch.
She heard the sickbay doors
open, saw Len look up.
"Why don't you take this
one?" Len sounded way too amused
for it to be anyone but Spock.
She took a deep breath and
turned to the door. "Something I
can do for you, sir?"
He looked...strange. She was used to him looking alien--distant, haughty,
or even disdainful. But now he
looked...off.
She grabbed the scanner,
walked toward him, but he surprised her by nodding toward the consult
room. He wanted to talk in private?
She followed him in, sat on one
side of the desk that provided the necessary barrier to induce honesty. She couldn't count the number of shore leave
confessions she'd heard here--confessions that generally came with a skin rash
or some other embarrassing souvenir to clear up.
Spock had never been here for
that and in this case, she didn't think there was a first time for everything.
"Sir?"
"I have a name. You used to use it." His voice was flat--well, flatter than
normal.
"You used to hate me
using your name. Or maybe just the way I
said it. I was never sure. At any rate, 'sir' seems safer." It had taken years, but she'd finally given
up on him.
He nodded and sat silently,
staring at the floor.
"There was something of
a medical nature you wished to talk to me about?"
He shook his head.
Jesus, God, not the
seven-year itch. She thumbed the scanner
on; all the readings were Vulcan normal.
Not the seven-year itch.
"Spock?"
"I do not know why I
came here."
"Did you want to
talk?" She turned the scanner off
and set it on the desk. "No
medicine involved. Just
words."
He finally leaned back in his
chair and seemed to be studying her.
"You are leaving the ship."
"I am." This was not news.
"I shall be--" He took a
deep, slow breath.
She waited, wondering what
adjective could possibly come out of his mouth.
Sorry to see her go? Delighted to
see her go? Turning goddamned cartwheels
to see her go?
But he didn't finish his
thought, just took another of the overly deliberate breaths. "You are leaving to improve yourself,
are you not?"
"If you consider being a
doctor an improvement over being a nurse, then I guess I am."
He looked confused for a
moment.
"Most people do consider
that an improvement, Spock. Don't worry
I won't get mad if you say so."
"I was not worried you
would get mad."
"My
mistake. Of course you weren't." The consult room was feeling stuffy, too
close with this man who was still able to confuse her with no discernible
effort.
"If you were happy here,
would you leave to do this?"
"I am happy here,
Spock. But that doesn't mean it's not
time for new challenges."
His mouth tightened. "Yes.
New challenges.
Is...is happiness so inconsequential that you
would leave it?"
She could tell he was
serious, even if it was the oddest thing he'd ever asked her--and they'd had
some doozy of uncomfortable conversations over the
year. Never one with him seeking her
out, though, and looking so almost...miserable as he
watched her.
"Are you concerned with
my happiness?" she finally asked, even though she was pretty sure he
wasn't.
"I am speaking of humans
in general. You would leave the familiar
for something that was deemed better?"
"It's how we grow,
Spock. We have to move on sometimes, no
matter how happy we are."
"And you leave people
behind."
"Since you're not
talking about me leaving you behind"--she smiled to try to show him it was
okay that he wasn't talking about that--"I'll just say, yes, that does
happen. It's
normal, Spock. People come and go in
life."
"And that is the
attitude most humans have?" He stretched
his hand out toward her, seemed completely unaware he was doing it.
"Spock, what is going on
with you?"
"Something
that is clearly not an improvement." He slowly drew his hand back,
stared at it as if it was not attached to him, then stood. "I should not have interrupted your
work."
"It's okay. Even if I don't have the faintest idea what
we've really been talking about."
"I wish you well, Nurse
Chapel." He turned, palmed the door
open, and left.
She sat for a moment, staring
at the open door. "Just one of the
things I'm not going to miss when I get off this ship: Spock's bizarre moments
of God knows what."
Picking up the scanner, she
went back to work.
--------------
McCoy watched Christine as
she worked. Whatever that damned Vulcan
had wanted to talk about, it hadn't seemed to affect her one way or the
other. She wasn't in the "He
doesn't love me and never will" funk of years gone by. She also didn't seem happy, so Spock's visit
hadn't been to profess his undying love.
Not that McCoy expected him to profess that, but Spock was half human,
and human males had a habit of realizing they'd had a good thing just when the
good thing was about to walk out.
"Something
on your mind, Doctor?"
Christine asked with a grin as she passed him.
"Just wondering what
Spock wanted."
"I'm going to miss your
inability to speak your mind." She
grinned again. "And I'm not sure
what he wanted."
"You're
not...sure?"
Shrugging, she nudged him out
of the way so she could get into the storage cabinets. "That's what I said."
"Hmm."
"Yeah. Hmm." She pulled
out a container of vitamin sprays and carried them over to the
workstation. "You picked my
replacement yet?"
"I can't replace you,
Christine. I can pick my next chief
nurse, but she sure as hell won't be you."
She glanced at him, then went back to loading hypos for the upcoming crew
physicals. "Change is good,
Len. New people. Fun new opportunities to
bond...and mock."
"I haven't mocked you in
a dog's age." He occasionally felt
bad for all the grief he'd given her about Spock over the years. But only occasionally.
"Then
to bond with." She stopped what she was doing and studied
him. "You haven't been letting
people in the way you used to."
Looking down, he shook his
head as if she was wrong. But she wasn't
wrong.
"Why? You like people, Len. Really like them."
"I don't know. Guess I'm getting older, Christine. Men my age don't bond."
"Bull." She nodded toward the cabinets. "Grab me the stress supplements?"
He dug around for them, then handed
her the container. "I'm getting set
in my ways, Christine. And I know who my
friends are, where I fit. If someone
wants in enough, I won't stop them. But I'm
too old to lead the 'welcome newbies' parade."
"Since
you used to lead it wearing a lampshade, that's a relief to all."
"We don't have
lampshades."
"You know what I
mean."
He laughed, but it came out
brittle. Boozing the night away was
another thing he'd eased up on as he got older.
Holding his liquor wasn't as easy as it once was, and there was nothing
more pathetic than an old drunk.
"I'm going to miss you,"
she said.
"Don't start,
Christine. I don't want to go down this
road till I'm seeing you off at the transporter."
"Big
softie."
"Damn straight, and you
know it better than anyone." He met
her eyes. "I hate goodbyes."
"I know. Me, too."
The intercom chimed; it
seemed unusually shrill in the quiet of sickbay. "McCoy here."
"Bones, could you come
to my quarters?" Jim. He sounded okay. There hadn't been any landing parties lately, or visitors intent on stabbing or seducing him, so
this probably wasn't an urgent medical issue that the captain didn't want his
crew knowing about.
"Now, Jim?"
"If
you don't mind?"
"On my
way."
Christine gave him a
bittersweet smile. "I'll miss
hearing his voice. It's...comforting."
"Well, stay and you
won't have to miss it."
"Nice try." She waved him away, went back to filling
hypos.
He wasn't serious; she should
be practicing medicine, not supporting him.
McCoy tried to push back the sadness at the thought of her leaving, at
the thought of breaking in someone else--someone who would never be his friend
the way this woman was.
She gave him the gentle smile
that hadn't changed over the years. "Captain's waiting, Doctor."
He nodded and hurried out of
sickbay.
--------------
Kirk paced his quarters. Telling Spock he was leaving had been hard,
but telling McCoy seemed suddenly daunting.
His door chimed. "Come," he said.
"You wanted to see me,
Jim?" McCoy had on his "How
can I help?" face.
"Have a seat." Kirk pointed to the guest chair on the other
side of his desk. "I have some
news."
"We've been approved for
shore leave on Risa, finally? Well, hallelujah, Jim." McCoy was grinning. The devil-may-care smile
that won over almost everyone who met him.
Kirk had a feeling that
expression was going to disappear fast. "Not exactly.
I've..." Jesus. He needed to just spit it out. "They're making me an admiral."
McCoy looked confused. "They are?"
"Yep."
"Admirals don't captain
ships, Jim."
"No, they don't." He leaned in, put his hands on the desk, felt
the ever-present tingle of his ship--his girl.
"I've accepted a position at Command."
"What?"
"I know you heard
me." Kirk sat back, crossing his
arms over his chest, feeling the irrational need to protect himself. "I'll transfer soon."
"Soon? How soon?"
"No exact date
yet." A lie--why the hell was he
lying to one of his best friends? He'd
done the same thing when Spock asked him.
"Soon." As if that was safer than
"four weeks from now."
He smiled, held his hand out to McCoy.
"Say something?"
"Okay. What the hell are you thinking?"
"Bones, I'm tired. And they're making me an admiral."
"Yeah, I heard that part
the first time. But it won't be on your ship. The ship you can't live without." McCoy got up, started to pace the way Kirk
had been doing earlier. "This is
what you were made for, not being stuck in Command. You'll die chained to a desk."
"As far as I know, the chains
are optional now." He laughed, but
it died as he saw his friend's face tighten.
"I'm leaving. It's not up
for debate. They need me; I need new
challenges. It's a good job, the right
move at the right time. Nogura's been a
huge supporter and he needs me."
McCoy dropped onto the bed,
sat staring at the floor for a long time, before he finally looked up. "Jim, don't get me wrong. If this were anyone else, I'd burst into
congratulatory song. But it's you, and I
know you, and you belong in space. You
belong here. With
us."
"You can come with
me." He chuckled--the laugh he knew
sounded fake.
He wished he could make it a little more real. "I'm serious, Bones."
"You need a personal
physician on your staff? For what? Indigestion from the cafeteria food?"
"Starfleet Medical is
right next door. You could write your
own ticket."
"You mean I could write
your ticket with my name on it. No
thanks." He stood up slowly. "Did you tell Spock the same
thing?"
He hadn't told Spock the same
thing because Spock hadn't seemed to give a rat's ass that he was leaving. But McCoy didn't need to know that. "He knows he'd be welcome there."
"Seems to me you're
trying to recreate what you have here back at Command. Seems to be you should just stay here if
that's the case."
"Seems to me you don't
know what the hell you're talking about."
Kirk took a deep breath. "Come
on. Wish me well or something."
"If you're happy, Jim,
then I'm happy.
Or I'll get that way. But...just
give me some time to get used to the idea, okay?"
"Sure." Disappointment flooded him. Disappointment that gave
way to anger. McCoy wasn't happy
for him. Spock had been at his
unemotional worst when he'd heard the news.
Would anyone be fucking happy for him?
"That'll be all, Doctor."
With a nod, McCoy left.
The room felt empty and cold
without him, and Kirk could barely sense the comforting tingle of his
ship. She knew he was leaving.
She wasn't happy, either.
--------------
Spock stared at the
meditation flame, unable to reach any kind of stillness, let alone peace.
Jim was leaving. Why was Jim leaving?
The candle flickered, and
Spock breathed in the scent of the Vulcan incense his mother sent him regularly,
felt the rough fibers of the mediation mat under his feet. He sought the stillness, the emptiness, the
moment of perfect clarity.
He didn't find it.
The chime of his door saved
him from failing again.
"Come."
Christine walked in, stopped
just far enough in to allow the door to close, then leaned against the wall,
crossing her arms as she stared at him.
He stared back, the stillness
in the room more comfortable than the one he had failed to find in his
meditation.
"So, there I was in
sickbay, working away, when Len comes back in.
Muttering.
Not happy. Took me awhile to worm
what was wrong out of him. But he
spilled." She wasn't moving, seemed
part of the wall. "In the consult room
earlier, you were talking about the captain, weren't you?"
He was not sure he wanted to
talk about this to her. He had managed
to hide the impact of Jim's words from his friend, had managed to be appropriately
Vulcan at the news that Jim was leaving.
Why had he not hidden it from this woman? He sat in silence, staring at her, and if
she'd pressed him, he'd have asked her to leave. But she didn't press him, so he finally said,
"Yes, it was about the captain."
"It hurts. To be left behind."
It did hurt. Why did it hurt this much? Jim was his friend. That would endure no matter where he was
assigned. Wouldn't it?
She straightened up, walked
over to him, and sat down on the mat, facing him, passing her hand over the
candle flame. "Why did you come to
me?"
"I do not know."
"I think I
do." She smiled at him, and it was
a gentle expression.
"I'm...constant. Soothing, maybe."
"Perhaps."
"Only I'm getting the
hell off the ship. So,
maybe not the best person to come to.
Len's hurting. You should talk to
him." She pulled her hand away from
the flame and shook it, smiling ruefully.
"Too close too long."
"Will Doctor McCoy stay
on the ship?"
"I don't know. I'm not sure he can retire yet. But he's got more than enough years in to
resign if he wants." She reached
out for the flame again, and he caught her hand to stop her. "You should go to him, Spock. He should be the one you're talking to. You'll both be left behind." Her words seemed unnecessarily harsh, said
with piercing directness.
"I feel..."
She waited; no Vulcan woman
could stare at him with more equanimity.
"I feel things I do not
understand." He had let one person
become too important to him. He was
Vulcan; the departure of a colleague--even a trusted supervisor--should not
distress him this way.
"You feel hurt,
Spock. It's what happens when crewmates
leave. And you and the captain are more
than that. You're friends. Deep, close friends. So...you feel pain."
"Yes." He realized he was still holding onto her hand
and let her go. "It is not
Vulcan."
"Seems
like it is. You're Vulcan, you feel it, ergo, it must be Vulcan."
Her logic would be sound if
he were not also half human. A half he
had let dominate his life, apparently. A
half that now sat inside him, crying out that this hurt too much, that he did
not know what to do.
She met his eyes. "Do you need me to stay here?"
"No." He made the answer as direct as her words had
been.
She did not seem to mind; her
expression did not alter. "Do you
want me to stay here?"
"No."
She pushed herself to her feet and turned for the door.
"Yes."
She stopped.
"I want things from you,
but I do not need them."
"Things?" She glanced
over her shoulder at him. "What
kind of things?"
"One emotion can replace
another. Is that not true?"
"It is. And if you actually felt any emotion for me,
I'd say it was a sound strategy."
She turned, walked over to his bed, and sat on it, pulling one leg up
under her as she did.
He could not read her
expression.
"But if you want to just
bury your feelings for a while in my body, that's another thing entirely."
He pushed himself up and
walked over to her.
"You'd be using me. We both know that."
"Yes. I would be using you."
She looked up at him, her
eyes giving nothing away. "You
don't love me."
"No. I do not."
He expected hurt from her,
but all he got was a strange little smile.
"Well, just so we're clear."
And then she pulled him down
to her and kissed him, and he kissed her back, trying to push away the pain,
concentrate on where her fingers were or how her mouth opened to his. He eased her clothes off and then his own,
and buried himself in her soft, welcoming body.
Her touch was gentle, her lips hungry on his, but her eyes were distant,
and he felt something color the sex, something inside him. It felt like regret, but it wasn't enough to
make him stop. And as she came again in
his arms, as he spilled himself into her, their coupling did seem to make the
pain go away.
For a while.
--------------
Chapel woke and smelled the
lingering resonance of incense and sweaty sex.
She felt Spock move away from her a bit, giving her room, but he stopped
short of letting go of her, his hand resting lightly on her upper arm.
"Good morning," she
said, turning over so she could see him.
"Good
morning."
He looked unsure of what to
do next, so she smiled gently and said, "This is the awkward morning
after. In case you weren't sure."
"Ah. Thank you for identifying it for me."
She laughed softly. "Not a problem."
He surprised her by tightening
his hold on her arm.
"You okay?"
He actually sighed, a sound
she'd imagined him making around her--generally out of frustration but this seemed
like genuine sadness. Or was it regret?
"Spock?"
"I am...not at
ease."
"Hence the awkward part
of the awkward morning after." She
tried to give him a version of Len's great grin, the one that let everybody off
the hook.
"It is more than
that. And this is, if I am being honest,
not particularly awkward."
"Okay." She leaned in; he ran his hand along her arm
as she eased closer to him--his hand felt sinfully good.
"It does, however,
concern me that I am here, in bed, with you.
Vulcans are not, under normal circumstances,
given to meaningless sex."
"Ouch,
Spock. Jesus.
Meaningless?
Pick a new word. Casual is good." She glared at him, but this didn't hurt as
much as annoy her, which was actually progress on the Christine Chapel road to
self-improvement.
"It was greatly
enjoyable meaningless sex."
"Not making it
better." She let out a melodramatic
sigh.
"I am sorry if my
assessment has hurt you."
"Is that another thing
Vulcans don't generally do? Hurt their
sexual partner with mean words?"
She didn't want her question to sting, but it came out harsh.
"I did not intend it to
be mean." He touched her cheek,
seemed indeed to regret his words.
"Was the sex not meaningless for you?"
"The
very, very good sex?" The Chapel of old would probably have been
fleeing his quarters in tears by now.
Fortunately, that Chapel wasn't in the bed. She studied Spock, felt sorry for him rather
than angry. "It is what it is. You wanted me; I wanted to find out what I'd
been missing, which by the way, gotta give myself
credit for recognizing hidden talent."
He looked down, as if embarrassed
but she thought he was also satisfied with her assessment.
"I should go, Spock. My leaving the room will end the awkwardness. And I'll be leaving the ship in a few
days. You can avoid at will till then...and
afterward too, you have my permission to flee if you see me in the halls of
Starfleet Command."
He nodded, but his hand
tightened even more on her arm. In fact,
his grip was starting to hurt.
"Okay. I'm leaving now." As she said it, his hand tightened again; she
was going to have some lovely finger marks on her arms. "Or...if you want...we could have more
of that meaningless sex."
His death grip eased.
"You'd like that?"
"Yes." But the look he gave her was more tortured
than titillated.
She took pity on him, pulled
him close and kissed his cheek before finding her way to his ear. She whispered, "If you're going to
regret this, then I'll go. No harm, no
foul."
"I will no doubt regret
this. But I already have much to
regret. I do not see what harm adding
this to the list will do."
"Never let it be said
you can't rationalize with the best of them." She tapped his head gently, smiling as she
said, "Maybe there is some human in there."
"There is undoubtedly
more than some human in there." His
voice was grim, harsh even, but then he pulled her to him and kissed her in a
way that touched her even more than he had the night before.
She'd evaded his
question. The sex hadn't been
meaningless. It wasn't going to
devastate her to leave him, but damn, the man could screw with the best of them,
and he did it without making her feel like anyone would do in this instance.
Some part of the old
Christine whispered that he was making love to her. Fortunately, this Chapel knew better.
Part 2: Absence
Kirk roamed the small
confines of his office, wondering where his damn assistant was. Nogura had fifty
million good ideas before breakfast, and it was up to Kirk and Lori and a few other "trusted" subordinates to make them
happen. Even if good didn't always
translate to actionable.
He hit the intercom button
again.
"Sir?" Carew sounded
harried. But only
moderately so. Kirk's hair was on
fire and this man only sounded slightly stressed. "Admiral Kirk, Admiral Ciani's on comm 2 for you."
Kirk glanced down at his comm
system. No blinking indicators showed
Lori was waiting. "You
sure about that, Commander?"
How the hell had this man made it past ensign?
"Oh, damn. Let me get her back."
"Just go get her. I need to see her before the meeting."
"Yes,
sir." The intercom light went dead.
Kirk took a deep breath but
it didn't help. He'd navigated a zillion
crises on the Enterprise without losing his cool but those had actually
mattered. This bureaucratic nonsense was
going to drive him over the edge. Nogura's good ideas occasionally pertained to something
that seemed worthy of the amount of frenzy that went into a normal day on his
staff. But most of the time, Kirk didn't
see the point of all this wasted energy.
On his ship--his ship--things would have been
different.
A knock sounded on his
door. Not Lori's jaunty three-tap
sound. Or Carew's tentative knock before
he opened the door. This was someone
else. "Come."
Spock walked in.
Kirk could feel a smile
starting. "Spock, I didn't know you
were going to be on Earth."
"I told you." Spock sounded strange. Almost...tentative.
"Did you?" Kirk looked at his calendar for the
day--nothing about Spock. Did Carew
screw this up, too? "My damned
assistant is not very--"
"I sent you a
message. Private. You replied."
"Oh. Damn."
If Spock were human, Kirk would have pegged him as angry and extremely
hurt. "You know how things are when
it gets crazy."
"No, Jim. I do not." This time Spock didn't hide the hurt. His voice wasn't shaking but somehow it was
conveying disappointment. But his eyes
were resigned. Like
he'd expected this somehow.
"Spock, it's not a
personal thing. I'm so damned busy, I
can't keep myself straight on anything."
"Of
course."
"Jim, I--" Lori stopped at
the still open door. "Oh, I'm
sorry. I didn't know you had a
guest. Carew said you needed to see
me." She smiled at Spock. "We've never met, but I certainly know
who you are."
"You have the
advantage." Spock was doing the
full Vulcan perfectly.
Lori stepped forward, her
eyes sparkling a little less.
"Admiral Ciani. Lori.
It's nice to meet you, Commander Spock."
"Admiral." He glanced at
Kirk. "Admiral Kirk, I can see you
are busy."
"Spock, it's Jim. Lori won't
mind."
No response.
"Look, let me comm you
when I finish up. We'll have
dinner. Catch up."
"I believe my plans have
changed, Admiral. I will be headed for
Vulcan by the time you 'finish up.'"
"I'm going to wait outside,
Jim." Lori hurried out.
Kirk moved to Spock's side,
touched his arm gently, and was startled when Spock jerked away. "Spock, it's just a mistake. I forgot, but I didn't mean to."
Spock wouldn't meet his
eyes. "We have not communicated
much since you left."
"I think of you, but
then some new fire comes up and I never have time to follow through."
"Of
course." Again the hurt. It wasn't like Spock to not hide his
hurt.
"Are you all
right?"
"This is what it is to
be Human, is it not? To feel and express
those feelings." Spock swallowed
hard. "I find it...distasteful in
the extreme." He turned to go.
"Spock, wait,
Jesus."
But Spock pulled away. He walked to the
door, then turned around. "Was I your friend, Jim? Or was I merely useful at the time?"
"How can you even ask me
that?"
"How can I not?" He looked down, then
met Kirk's eyes. "I do not believe
we shall ever meet again, Admiral."
"Because I forgot you
were coming?" Kirk felt anger fill
him. "Are you aware you're acting
like a thirteen-year-old girl?"
"Well, that is the
dilemma, sir. A thirteen-year-old Vulcan
girl would never act in this manner. I
have clearly let my Human side rule me.
I am going to take steps to change that."
"I don't
understand."
"Look up 'Gol,' Jim."
Spock's voice was raw with pain.
"That will explain everything.
Give my regards to Doctor McCoy and Miss Chapel. If you have time to see
them."
He turned and walked out.
Lori peeked in. "I wasn't listening."
Kirk took a deep breath. "Yes, you were."
"Okay, yes, I
was." She moved closer to him,
pulled him down for a hug. "You
don't neglect your friends, Jim. You
certainly don't neglect me. He's
just...not like us. He obviously latched
on a little tighter to you than he should have."
Kirk pulled away. "You don't know what the hell you're
talking about. He's half Vulcan. Friends aren't the norm for him. Most Vulcans I've
met have...acquaintances or colleagues."
"Well, you're definitely
more than either of those." She
tugged his hand. "Come on, the old
man's waiting for us."
"Just give me a minute,
okay?"
"I'll stall. Don't worry." She leaned up and kissed his cheek. "You could have told Spock I was your
wife, you know."
--------------
McCoy pulled his grandfather's
Panama hat a little farther down his forehead, kicked back in the rocking chair,
and listened to the birds sing. He could
feel the breeze blowing against his skin, smell the
flowers around the front porch as they soaked in the sun. Peace.
Sheer, cussed peace filled him.
He'd never been so fucking
bored in his life.
Damn Jim. Damn him for leaving the ship and breaking up
what had been a stable and happy family.
McCoy reached for his
bourbon, saw the glass was empty and filled it up with the bottle he'd brought
out.
"Bit early for that,
isn't it?" Chapel's
voice. From the
front gate.
He pushed back his hat and
stood up, beckoning for her to open the gate and come up the short walk to his
porch. "Christine, sweetheart, join
me for a belt."
"How many have you
had?" She hugged him tightly when
she got to him, pulling away with a grimace at the beard he'd started to
grow. "Nice look, gramps."
"Shut up and sit
down." He went into the house and
grabbed another glass.
"I just want
water," she called through the screen.
"Out of water, all I've
got is rockgut."
McCoy smiled at her as he came back out.
"I'm serious, Len. I just want water."
He tossed her the glass. "Then go get it yourself. You know where the kitchen is."
She disappeared inside and McCoy threw back his drink and poured another. She came out, sipping her water, and sat down
on the bench that ran the whole outside of the porch.
"So."
He tried to smile at her, but
could see judgment in her eyes. "So." He
took a deep breath--did he really want to chase her away by being a
bastard? It wasn't like Jim or Spock
were hauling ass to get down to see him. "How's the new ship?"
"It's good. Big."
"They enlarged it?"
She laughed. "No, I mean, they've done something with
the corridors, I guess a lot of the components have been improved and made
smaller--it just seems roomier, okay?"
"Gotcha." He took a sip,
trying to slow down on the booze. "And Decker?"
"He's a good guy. Really good."
McCoy gave her a look.
"Not that way. Get your mind out of the gutter."
"I live a quiet little
life, Christine. A tale of spicy romance
would do me good."
"Sorry, no spicy
romance. No unspicy
romance. Well, unless you count a
pimply-faced lieutenant who won't leave me alone."
"The man obviously has
good taste." But he could see she
didn't think so. Some guys just didn't
know when to quit. There'd been a time
when Christine hadn't known when to quit when it came to Spock.
"You heard from the
mighty green one? You see Jim at
all?"
"You didn't hear?"
"Hear what?"
She looked down. "Spock went to Gol. Do you know what that is?"
"Yeah." He looked
down. "He told me about it after
you and Jim left. We talked more than we
probably ever had. So he really went and
did it--and didn't say a word to me."
She looked away.
"What?"
"Did Admiral Kirk tell
you he was getting married?"
McCoy could feel his jaw
tighten and nodded. "Oh, yes. Happily hitched to that
harpy Lori Ciani. One more stupid move in a
long line of them. Chained to a desk and now to her."
"She actually seemed pretty
nice."
"Well, I bow to your
superior assessment, Nurse." He
cringed inwardly. Nurse had come out
like an insult. Maybe he'd meant it that
way?
"I'm a doctor, Len. It's why I came. To invite you in person to
my graduation. But...now
I'm not so sure I want to do that.
You seem a bit...on edge."
She got up, put the water down by his own
glass. "I love you, Len. But you can be a real ass sometimes."
She didn't look back.
He toasted her disappearing
back. "Yeah, I really can be an ass
sometimes."
Part 3: Reunion
McCoy moved around his new
sickbay, watching a staff he barely knew, but would get to know, going about
their business.
"Glad to be
back?" Christine's voice wasn't as
soothing as it used to be. But it
sounded great, even so.
"Yep. Never thought I'd say that."
"Never thought I'd be
back to serving under the Trinity."
He laughed. He'd heard Jim and Spock and himself called
lots of things, that included. Some of them were a bit naughtier. "You okay with that?" Decker had wanted her to have his place,
after all. Well, not his place. But to be the head of this
shining new sickbay. The place
McCoy had now.
"Yep." She grinned at
him. "But try giving me a rash of
shit, Len, like the last time we talked.
Just try."
"I should have commed you. Should have apologized.
I should have been sober and civil and I hate that I missed your
graduation."
"I do, too. And yeah you should have been. But Ny
said you'd cut way back on the booze, and it sure seems like that's true."
Uhura and Sulu had come to visit him, had given him an
invite to the refitted Enterprise's launch reception. He hadn't gone, but he'd enjoyed their visit,
hadn't chased them away the way he had her.
"So we're okay,
Christine?"
"Yes, you
annoying man. We're more than
okay. We're great."
He laughed again. He was doing that a lot. Escaping an entity hell bent on killing
everything he knew and loved probably had a lot to do with that. "This is where we belong,
Christine. All of us."
"If you say so,
boss."
"It is. Even Spock knows that now." He watched her closely. She'd practically squeaked when she saw
Spock. It could have been happiness. Could have been surprise,
too. A lot could happen in the
days before someone transferred off, and McCoy wouldn't put it past these two
to find a way to connect when it couldn't possibly help. "So, how is Spock?"
"You're his
doctor."
"Am I? You're not?"
She shot him a look. Not the hurt look
of the early years. Not the annoyed look
of the later years. This look was more
confused than anything.
"What?"
"Never
mind. Just thought maybe you and he..."
"Spock
and I? Uh, no." Something slipped in her voice. Something that made him think
that she was lying. "Oh,
shit." She was looking at the
door. A young lieutenant was walking
purposefully toward them. "Stalker at one o'clock."
"The one you told me
about?"
She nodded. "Powers. I made the mistake of being nice to
him." She turned to the man and
said with a businesslike tone, "Something we can do for you?"
"I just wanted to make
sure you were okay. After everything
that just happened with that V'ger thing, I thought--"
"I'm fine. Very busy. You'll have to excuse me."
The man showed no signs of
moving, so McCoy moved between them.
"Son, when a doctor tells you she's busy, then she's busy. Git."
The man didn't move.
"Do it now, son. Unless you want me to
perform some highly embarrassing procedure on you. It will involve oozing."
That got him.
Christine shook her
head. "I finally know what Spock
went through with me."
McCoy agreed with her, but
figured she didn't need to hear him say that.
Maybe he was mellowing with age?
"Do we have anything to do?"
"Not a damn thing."
"Well, then, I'm going
to mosey on up to the bridge." He
saw her expression change. "What?"
"Just so you know. Now that I'm a doctor, I'm going to do some of
the moseying from here on out. But I'm
fine with you going first." She
waved him off. "Go forth and lurk,
Len."
He grinned. Things were going to change around here. And it seemed like it was for the better.
Jesus, he was as giddy as
Spock with his post-V'ger emotional binge. His house and porch seemed a hell of a long
way away, once again a peaceful place to visit for a break, but not to live
in. He was home. With his friends.
Where he belonged.
--------------
Spock took a deep breath as
he contemplated the chessboard. He was
finally feeling a lessening of the emotional turmoil the meld with V'ger had left him with.
He was still given to more displays than anyone around him appeared used
to, but at least he felt somewhat in control of the emotions, even if he had an
unreasoning need to display them.
"You ever
going to make a move?" Jim's
voice was gentle, his grin highly amused.
"I am considering."
"You're stalling."
"Perhaps."
"Spock, something you
said, in my office that day. About
whether we were really friends..."
Spock met his eyes.
"We are. I just let myself get busy, too busy. I let things go that I shouldn't have."
"There is a line that's
difficult to see with you, Jim. You
manipulate us all, but I'm not sure it's a bad thing. It makes for an efficient team. You draw us in, make
us feel a part of something."
"Us?"
"All
right. Me.
You drew me in. Much more than Captain Pike ever did." And he had considered Pike a good friend, had
risked his career and life to save him.
"And you thought I'd
used you. Do you still?"
Spock could see the dismay in
Kirk's face. "I know what I feel,
Jim. V'ger
showed me that, how...simple it is. And
I know that your reaction to first seeing me was that of a friend, not someone
merely happy to see a subordinate they could count on."
"You are my friend."
"There are remnants of
my experience at Gol, and they war at the moment with
the inundation of feeling from the meld with V'ger. But I think, once both have settled down,
that I will believe that."
"Someday, Spock, you
won't have to believe it. You'll know
it."
Spock allowed himself a small
smile--he could blame it on V'ger later. "I look forward to that day."
"Me,
too." Jim took a deep breath and looked back at the
chessboard. "Let's play, all
right?"
A few moves later, Spock's
attention was drawn past Jim, to the bar where Christine was standing with Uhura and Rand. She
looked different, straighter somehow, although her posture had always been
excellent. Perhaps it was the dark hair
worn so severely? She almost looked
Vulcan.
"See something
interesting?" Jim had followed his
gaze, seemed to know exactly who Spock was looking at.
"It is good to be all
together."
"Nice try at
deflection. Look, either go talk to her
or make a damn play."
Spock turned back to the
chessboard and advanced a piece in what turned out to be a rather brilliant, if
erratic, move.
Jim studied the board, making
impressed faces. "Playing at Gol? Never seen you
use that move before."
"Perhaps the discipline
enhanced my game." Spock again was
drawn to Christine and the young officer trying to engage her in
conversation. Christine looked annoyed;
her companions seemed amused.
"Spock. For God's sake, if you're interested, go over
and rescue her."
"She does not appear to
need assistance." Christine's
current expression made T'Pring's habitual
haughtiness appear welcoming.
"I notice you did not
say you weren't interested."
"And I did not say I
was." He moved another piece. This time the result was not brilliant, but
fortunately did not lead to ruin.
Jim moved a piece quickly, then stood. "I'm
going to refresh this drink. You want
anything? Milk? Tea? A certain doctor?"
Spock realized he was
glaring, tried to change the expression into something more Vulcan.
"I had to, Spock. You're making it so easy." Jim grinned in the open, easy way he had
before leaving the Enterprise, before Spock ran to Gol.
"I have missed you, Jim." It was the truth, even if truth in this case
was battered by all the things that had driven Spock to Gol,
to try to purge this man and the betrayal he'd felt at his departure.
"I've missed you,
too." Jim laid his hand on Spock's
shoulder as he walked past him toward the bar.
A welcoming touch, a warm signal of home.
Spock leaned back and allowed
himself to revel in the feeling of once more being
exactly where he should be.
--------------
Chapel glanced out her office, saw Lieutenant Powers heading her way. "Not again." Unfortunately, no one was going to rescue her
from her overly determined admirer but her.
"Doctor Chapel. I was hoping we might have a word. I know you'll be off shift soon." Powers gave her the insipid grin that made
her shudder--inside, anyway; she did her best to give the man a stony look that
even a Vulcan woman would envy.
"A word about...?"
"Well. Us."
Another
stony look.
He looked down, turned red, then moved a step closer.
"If you'd just give me a chance--"
"Lieutenant?" A new voice,
not an unfamiliar one, though.
"Surely, there are more appropriate uses for your time."
Powers blanched and turned to
face Spock. "Sir, Doctor Chapel and
I were--"
Spock shook his head tightly, the motion cutting off whatever Powers thought he
and Chapel were doing.
"I'll just be
going."
Spock moved aside but said nothing. He
met Chapel's eyes and a slow smile started.
The look was just so wrong. As
soon as Powers was gone, Spock moved toward her, making her step back if she
didn't want him walking into her. She retreated
into her office and he followed, palming the door closed as his smile grew.
"That smile on you is
creepy."
"You don't like the idea
of a more emotional version of the man you love?"
"I don't love you."
"Of
course not." He studied the things she'd put out on her
desk and shelves, his eyes lingering on the diploma she'd hung at McCoy's
urging. "You seemed happy to see
me. Your voice rose precipitously."
"I was surprised. Surprised does not equal
happy."
"Fascinating." The typical
Spock comment was ruined by the way his eyes burned as he looked at her. "Lieutenant Powers. A suitor?"
"Hardly. Imagine me
chasing you and replace me in that miniskirt with him."
"So you are saying you
are attracted to him?"
"I was a pest, not a
seductress."
"You were
persistent. Also
attractive. Is that how you feel
about him?"
"No, I'm saying he's an
annoyance." She pushed him out of
the way so she could sit down. "And
you weren't attracted to me."
"You are
mistaken." He had a tone that in a
human would have made his words a "was, too" kind of response.
"It's V'ger, Spock. You're
emotional from the meld, and as fun as it might be to mock you, we did just
escape the end of everything--more than probably because you merged with that
thing--so I'll let your behavior slide. If you go away."
He moved, but not to go
away. He sat down in her guest
chair. "Are you uninterested, then,
in repeating our...casual encounter?"
"You mean our
meaningless one?" It bothered her
that the word still stuck in her mind.
But why was her correction stuck in Spock's? "I thought you forgot all about things
like that at Gol?"
"Forgot,
no. Let go of."
"Oh. My mistake."
"I was attempting to purge
myself of emotions. Of
my humanity. The hardest part to push away were the memories. But, for a time, I did. I pushed them to the recesses of my
mind. But I did not ever lose them. V'ger pillaged my memories,
Christine, in its search for meaning. It
found the things that I'd hidden. It
pulled them loose. Jim. McCoy."
"Your
friends."
"My
friends. My family." He studied her, wearing an expression that
finally looked like the old Spock.
"And...you."
"Our encounter, you
mean."
"They are one and the
same." He leaned forward. "So, Doctor
Chapel." He put a strange
emphasis on the title, and Chapel frowned until she realized it was a nod to
her accomplishment. "Were you happy
to see me?"
They seemed to be having a
stare down, and she felt as if he could wait forever for her to give up. Forever seemed too long, so she said softly, "Yes."
"Excellent. Would you care to repeat our encounter?"
"That's so
unromantic."
"Did you want
romance?" Spock gave her a harsh
grin. "Because I am relatively
certain I can find Lieutenant Powers for you."
"You're such a jerk."
He waited, apparently
unconcerned at her assessment. Or possibly agreeing with it.
"No. I don't want to repeat our
encounter." She held up her hand as
he started to speak. "Our encounter
was overly clouded with ulterior motives.
You wanted to forget your pain. I
wanted to experience sex with you to satisfy my curiosity. It wasn't just sex. It wasn't even casual."
"Your analysis is
accepted." He steepled his fingers, the cool, logical Vulcan movement
ruined only by the upward quirk of one side of his mouth. "If you do not wish to repeat that
encounter, what would you like to do?"
"Hmmm." She met his
eyes. The stare down was over, and the look
he was giving her was surprisingly gentle--warm, even. "I thought I'd never see you
again."
"I thought the
same."
"I'm glad I was
mistaken."
"I, too, am
happy." And for the moment, he did
seem to be. Although happiness gave way
to an emotion a lot lustier if the way he was looking at her was any
indication.
She got up and walked toward
the door. "You coming?"
His smile told her he completely
understood the double entendre.
-----------
Kirk woke to the sound of his
ship--a new girl in some ways, made over and making sounds he wasn't sure he
quite knew yet. Like a lover he hadn't
seen in years.
A lover. His love.
His home.
A home with
his friends. Friends he would see again today, resume the
process of reconnecting, hopefully with no dire crises to threaten the reunion. He stretched and took his time getting ready,
was just stepping into the corridor to head to the mess hall for breakfast when
Chapel's door opened and Spock walked out.
"Hmm. Spock. How interesting, since I'm fairly certain
your quarters are just over there."
He pointed back behind him.
"Jim." Spock turned, looked into Chapel's quarters,
and said something that sounded astoundingly like "I will see you
later."
Chapel came to the door, saw
Kirk, and began to blush. "Oh, sir,
I...this isn't--"
"Exactly what it looks like." He was grinning like a fool and knew it. He turned to grin at Spock. "You sly dog."
Chapel rolled her eyes. "It was I, sir, who took advantage of
him."
"It was, Jim. As I am in a particularly
susceptible state due to the meld with V'ger."
"How long are you going
to blame everything on that?" Chapel asked with a laugh.
"I was wondering the
same thing, Chris."
Spock seemed to be on the
verge of laughing. No trace of
embarrassment, just a calm acceptance and what looked like possibly happiness. He went on as if they'd said nothing. "I will forgive this lapse in judgment,
Doctor. There was, fortunately, no harm
done."
She laughed, and her eyes met
Spock's. There was definitely something
new there. Very
intense. Very
damn hot. Probably eight hours of
nonstop screwing.
Kirk suddenly wondered when
they'd hit a new planet.
"Okay, well if you two
kids are done making eyes at each other, perhaps we can all get to work."
"Yes, sir," Chapel
said, with no discernible aura of respect.
She winked at him, then let the door slide
shut.
"Spunkier than I
remember." And she'd had her share
of sass to begin with.
"Accomplishment--the
attainment of a goal--can be beneficial for one's outlook."
"I have to say I didn't find
being an admiral especially good for my outlook. How'd Gol work out
for you, old friend?"
"It is not a universal
effect."
"Well, at least Doctor
Chapel benefitted from her new experience."
"Indeed." Spock looked like he'd benefitted pretty damn
well from it, too.
A noise sounded that Kirk
finally identified as Spock's stomach growling.
"My
apologies, Jim. I have not eaten breakfast. And we...skipped dinner."
"I just bet you
did." He wanted to ask Spock if
Chapel was good. But even with the V'ger openness, that seemed like too big a line to cross.
"In this case, missing a
meal was a most satisfying experience."
Asked and answered, then.
"Glad to hear
it." Kirk saw McCoy coming out of
his quarters. "Bones,
join us for chow. Spock has some news
for you."
"I do not," Spock said, no trace of V'ger in the
tone.
McCoy joined them with a
grin. "I'll pry it loose from
you."
Kirk knew he wouldn't, but
he'd have a hell of a good time trying. "It's
good to be home, gentleman."
McCoy grumbled something
about pointy-eared Vulcans. Spock lifted an eyebrow. Kirk laughed.
And, in the background, Kirk's
ship hummed happily.
FIN