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)
2014 by Djinn. This story is Rated R.
Awkward
by
Djinn
Chapel
poured herself a stiff drink and took the glass and a sandwich past the
campfire where her Ops crew was gathered and out to the lake. She found a log and sat, enjoying the
quiet, the precious moments during an emergency where no one needed her to be
the boss—or even part of their evening. She could relax and have some alone
time. And her crew was used to
that. No one had tried to call her
over as she'd passed. Not that she
always sought out solitude, but those who'd worked with her long enough seemed
to always be able to tell when she needed it.
Although
someone clearly hadn't gotten the message.
She heard footsteps through the sand and said without turning around,
"Unless it's a crisis, I'm not in the mood."
"I
thought," said a familiar voice, resonant and wonderfully dear, "that
you might make an exception for me.
But in fairness, several of your people told me you preferred to be
alone right now."
She
turned and smiled up at Sarek.
"I heard you were here.
Working the crisis from the diplomatic end?"
"Working
it would be an overstatement.
Refereeing endless rounds of posturing would be more
accurate." He gestured to the
log. "May I?"
She
moved over. "Take a load
off."
His
eyes crinkled ever so slightly, the way they always did when she said something
that amused him. She'd never
entertained Spock the way she did his father.
"I
have not seen you since..." He
took a deep breath.
"I
know. I'm sorry." She closed her eyes, trying to block out
Amanda's last breaths so many months ago.
She'd felt the loss deeply—had been attending to her friend, not
just a patient.
"Why
did you leave without saying goodbye?
It seemed...out of character for you." He was not looking at her, simply sat
like a statue, staring out at the water, lit by the twin moons of this lovely
planet—lovely when you weren't staring down at the victims of genocide. Lovely when people weren't shooting at
you.
"What
does it matter, Sarek?" She
took a bite of her sandwich, chewing slowly so she wouldn't have to answer. "She didn't need me any
longer. And you had much to
do—to arrange."
"It
matters to me why you left."
He met her eyes and there was something almost hurt in his.
She
closed her eyes and said softly, "Spock found me after I'd finished
everything I needed to do. Once
Amanda was taken care of." She
was trying to talk around the facts, which was probably stupid with a
Vulcan. They appreciated plain
speaking, but this was his wife, his love, and her friend. She would not make this any more
clinical than she had to.
Sarek
no doubt remembered that she'd urged him out of the death room, told him there
were medical things she had to do, forms she had to fill out, and once she was
done, he could have his wife, could take care of her body in whatever way he
chose. Chapel had not been sure
what Vulcans would do with a human.
With no katra to save...
She
took another bite of her sandwich.
He didn't need to know about Spock, about the never-ending distaste she
seemed to cause him to feel. Sarek
didn't need to know that when she'd been hurting, when she'd been trying to
process that her dear friend was dead, his son had struck out at her.
The
human part of him, Spock would no doubt say if questioned. He would blame it all on the human
part. But Amanda would never have
done it—Chapel wasn't sure she could think of a human who would have at
that moment. But Spock could be
cruel, at least to her, when he wanted to be. Or more accurately when his pain made
him be.
"My
son said something that distressed you?"
She
laughed but it was a horribly bitter sound. When didn't Spock say something that
distressed her? Hell, when didn't
she say something that distressed him?
They were both professionals when it came to making each other feel uncomfortable.
"What
did he say, Christine?"
"So
the two sides are posturing, huh?"
Changing the subject: a time-tested Ops way to avoid talking about how
anyone was feeling.
Sarek
clearly wasn't buying it; his expression was set in that "I will find out
your deepest secrets" way that made him such a great diplomat, but not the
best person to try to hide the truth from.
"I will fill you in on the various maneuverings of each side once
you have told me what my son said that made you leave."
She
took a deep breath, then said softly, "He thought I was using Amanda's
death as an excuse for being near him when he was...emotionally compromised." As Sarek's eyebrow went up, she laughed
bitterly and said, "Never underestimate the ego of your son—his
ability to make a sad situation all about him is astounding."
"So
I see." He took a deep breath,
and she thought he might be fighting back annoyance—even anger. "Why did you not simply tell him
that I had asked for you to attend Amanda?
It was logical. She was human. You are a doctor and our friend. You would understand what she needed to
keep her comfortable, what to do as her time approached. He would have understood this."
She
closed her eyes. "There's so
much misunderstanding between you and Spock. Somehow it seemed better to just go away
the way he wanted me to. To let him
think he was right rather than let him see that you and I and Amanda enjoyed a
friendship. That you called
me. I'm an...embarrassment to him, Sarek."
"I
do not know why. It has been years
since you showed any interest in him.
And you are a woman of exceedingly fine character. One who is respected at Starfleet
Command far more than he is."
He seemed to be working up a head of steam even if his tone stayed
even. It was something in the way
his eyes narrowed, in the way he clenched his hands together.
"You
going to tell him that? 'Son, I
must inform you that the woman you consider your nemesis is a bigger deal than
you are with the brass.'"
"I
will if it helps ease the tension between you."
She
laughed, and this time it was an honest sound. "That will in no way ease the
tension, oh Master Diplomat, and if you'd turn down your umbrage-meter, you'd
know that, too."
He
took a deep breath. "Logic
often fails me when it comes to my son."
"Right
there with you. Or it fails him
when it comes to avoiding me—I feel like I've been pretty damn logical,
all things considered." She sipped her drink, then put it down in the
sand. "I guess dealing with
the old me was traumatic enough to make him gun shy forever. Even though I moved on." She'd seen several men since she'd
served with Spock on the Enterprise.
Almost married one of them.
"Would
you like me to speak with him?"
"No. What good will it do?" She held out her plate. "You hungry? There's half a veggie sandwich here if
you are."
"I
would not want to take your food."
"If
you're working to end the problems on this planet, I think you need to keep
your strength up more than I do."
She smiled as he took the untouched half. "Besides, I can go get more. Cook makes a ton of these. Most of us get put off meat when we're
working situations like this."
"I
wondered. I did not remember you choosing
to be a vegetarian."
She
smiled. "Nope, still a
carnivore. But not when there's so
much gore around."
"Logical." He took a bite of the sandwich and ate
it slowly but with obvious enjoyment.
"When
was the last time you ate?"
"I
do not remember."
She
looked down. He'd loved Amanda
so. She'd been the one to nag him
into eating, into sleeping or at least meditating. Now, he was alone. Probably letting work be the thing that
kept him from thinking about his wife and how much he missed her.
And
Chapel knew he must miss her terribly.
She'd known them for so many years; it was impossible not to know that
they'd loved each other with equal measure, even if they'd shown it in
different ways.
"I'm
going to get some more food. Save
my place."
He
nodded, as if there was any actual danger of someone stealing her place on the
log.
"Do
you want something to drink?"
"What
are you having?"
"Whiskey. Neat."
"Ah. Not that." He met her eyes. "Water is fine."
"We
have tea. The kind you like, with
lime and not very sweet."
He
looked touched that she remembered.
"That will be fine."
"Who
takes care of you now, Sarek?"
He
looked away. "I am a Vulcan
male in my prime. I require no one
to take care of me."
"Okay." She hurried back to the table, got him a
tea, piled several sandwiches on her plate, and hurried back to him.
He
might not need taking care of, but by God he was going to get some TLC, at
least for one night.
##
Chapel
looked up and saw Spock and Sarek making their way through the cafeteria at
Command. Uhura followed her gaze,
then looked quickly away, and Chapel frowned. Had that been a guilty look she'd just
seen?
"If
I didn't know better, I'd think father and son were getting along." She watched Ny's
face, saw the weird expression flash until Ny looked down, seeming to make a
long study of her salad.
Chapel
closed her eyes and tried to repress a sigh. Ny had liked Spock for a long time but
had never really pushed it, seemingly content with the "sisters before
misters" code of honor. But
after Scotty died, after Jim did, too, Chapel had finally told her to go for
it. She was over Spock, long over,
and she was sorry she'd waited so long to tell Ny that.
Now,
it looked like Ny had gone for it.
Just
to test out her theory, she said, "I don't know how Sarek puts up with
him."
"Sarek? He's not very flexible when it comes to
Spock. It's as if no matter what
Spock does, he can't please his father.
Especially lately."
Chapel
laughed softly. She could imagine
she was to blame for that. Sarek
didn't have Amanda to keep him in check around Spock anymore. And he'd been angry—even if he'd
tried to hide the anger in Vulcan stone-face—that Spock had sent Chapel
away after Amanda's death. God only
knew what he'd said to Spock about that.
"Something
funny?" Ny had the look she
wore whenever she was defending someone she loved—only multiplied by
about ten.
"Guess
you're with him, huh?"
Ny
met her eyes, coloring a little.
"I am. I'm sorry."
"Don't
be sorry. I told you it's
okay. I'm over him. He was never into me. I'm at peace with that. Just don't ask us to double date if I
find a new guy."
Ny
laughed. "I won't. I'm sorry."
"Quit
saying that. Are you
happy?" When Ny nodded, she
said, "Great, then. What more
is there to talk about? But you can
talk to me about him if you want—I donŐt mean you can't." Even though it would be so, so, so weird
if Ny did want to rant—or worse go on about the good things that came
with sleeping with Spock.
"I
think maybe I'll try not to do that.
Kind of...awkward."
"No
kidding." She closed her eyes,
tried not to imagine her friend in bed with the man she'd had a crush on for
what seemed like forever.
She
was over him. This was fine.
She
had a sudden vision of a big wedding, of Ny asking her to be a
bridesmaid—or maid of honor.
At least Sarek would be there.
She
realized he was also walking up to their table and smiled up at him. "Hello, stranger."
He
nodded pleasantly. "I need to
speak with you about our last mission."
"Okay."
He
gave her a pointed look as Spock walked up with a tray filled with rabbit food.
"Oh,
now?"
"If
you do not mind."
She
stood, glad she'd finished her soup, and moved away so Spock could slide into
her vacated side of the booth.
"Make
yourself at home.
Really." She muttered
it, but she realized both Vulcans heard her. Coloring, she turned and tossed her soup
container into the recycler but brought her uneaten gingersnaps with her as she
fled the cafeteria.
Sarek
followed at a more leisurely pace, and she finally slowed so he could catch
up. She ate a cookie as they
walked. "What was so important
you had to interrupt my lunch?"
"Spock
wished to eat with Commander Uhura.
I did not think that would be comfortable for you. You appeared to be finished other than
your dessert." He looked at
her cookies with what seemed to be interest.
"Since
when do you like sweets?"
"Those
are gingersnaps, are they not?"
"They
are." She smiled, getting
it. "And they aren't
sweet—or that sweet. In fact,
these are quite spicy. Lots of real
ginger." She held out the
package to him. "Here."
"Can
we not share?" He indicated
two benches set across from each other in an alcove that got the afternoon sun.
"No
law against sharing." She sat
across from him, took another cookie, then handed him the bag. "You know, I'm perfectly capable of
being civil to Spock if he'd joined us."
"I
am aware of that. I did not think,
however, you should have to. Not
after what he said to you. Unless
he has apologized? Has he?"
"No. Did you ask him to?" She closed her eyes and leaned her head
back against the window in frustration.
"Please tell me you didn't confront him over me."
"I
did not. I was hoping courtesy and
a return to logic would impel him to make overtures."
"Nope."
"I
regret that." He leaned back,
too, seemed to let out a long breath.
"I am tired, Christine."
"Take
some leave."
"To
what end?" He lifted his face
to the sun, but his expression was a long way from peaceful, even if most
people would see only Vulcan serenity.
"My home is so empty, yet filled with mementos Amanda cared about,
her clothes, her scent, even.
Without her there..."
"I
know. Not very welcoming?"
He
nodded.
"It
took my mom a year to get rid of my dad's things. Eventually, you probably will have
to."
"And
do what with them? I fear I will
not honor her memory, and yet they bring as much discomfort as pleasure."
"I
know." She leaned forward,
stopped short of putting her hand on his knee. "I helped my mom go through Dad's
stuff. Do you want me to help you
with Amanda's?"
"You
were her friend. It would be vastly
preferable for you to help than Saavik or some other Vulcan. They will not understand the human
aspect of her things."
"Sweetie,
I might not understand her things, either.
Not all human females are alike.
And I don't tend to be all that sentimental." She realized what she'd called him and
hurried to say, "I'm sorry—I tend to call people that."
He
looked unperturbed. "I have
heard you do it. I did not take it
as a declaration of undue affection."
Laughing,
she went back to her cookie. "Good. Although for the record, I am fond of
you."
"As
I am of you. As my wife was. I would not want your help with her
things if that were not the case."
"Wait
until you're sure you're ready to get rid of her stuff. You don't want to do it too soon."
"Would
you wait?"
She
thought of how morbid she'd found having her father's things around the
house. She knew everyone mourned
differently, though. Having his
clothing still in the closet had made her mother feel like some part of him remained,
and Chapel understood intellectually even if she'd never felt comforted by the
stuff. "No, but as I said, I'm
not sentimental."
"I
have memories of her. I do not need
these things."
"Give
Spock a chance to take what he wants of the things you aren't going to
keep. You never know what might be
important to him."
"Excellent
advice." He glanced back
toward the cafeteria, as if he could see Spock from where they sat.
"I
have lots of leave. Tell me when
you want me there."
"Spock
will be on Vulcan with Commander Uhura next week. I plan to be on Earth as it will be
easier for all of us, I believe.
Perhaps the week after that?"
"She
has a name, Sarek. She's a
wonderful woman, very like Amanda.
Be nice to her. And for
God's sake, call her 'Nyota.' This
'Commander Uhura' crap has to stop."
He
looked chastened. "I will
try."
"Good. And the week after next sounds
fine. I'll put in for leave."
"Thank
you." He lifted his face to
the sun again, and this time, there was some peace in his expression.
##
Chapel
studied Amanda's clothing. Most of
the items were Vulcan robes, which weren't going to necessarily be the most
popular item at the charities that worked with Emergency Operations when people
needed clothing, but still worth donating.
She thought it would have pleased Amanda to think her clothes might help
others.
Chapel
turned to look at Sarek, who was going through the contents of an intricately
carved box. She tried to read his
expression but couldn't.
This
had to be hard for him. Terribly hard. But he seemed to be handling it. He looked up and then over at her, as if
he could tell she was looking at him.
"You
okay over there?" She smiled
as gently as she could.
"I
do not know." He pulled
something out of the box and walked to her.
Chapel
saw he was holding the bracelet he'd given Amanda several years ago for no
particular reason. It was white
gold and black pearls, sturdy to weather the traveling they did, but still
somehow graceful...delicate, even.
"She loved that."
"She
did. It is not a Vulcan custom to
give gifts, as you know, but I saw it and I knew it would appeal to her. I had been often gone, on missions she
could not accompany me on."
"You
don't have to justify the purchase to me, Sarek. You saw it and knew it would make her
happy. It's what we do for the ones
we love."
"Yes." He handed it to her.
"I
think of her when I see this. She
always wore it."
"She
would want you to have it."
Startled,
she looked up at him. "No,
Sarek. I can't." She put it back in his hand, closed his
fingers over it. "Saavik
should have it."
"Saavik
does not wear jewelry."
"But
she loved Amanda. And Amanda loved
her. It's how humans do
things. They pass bracelets like
this down the female line."
"Is
that not my point? Saavik is not
human. You are."
"But
I'm not family." She let go of
his hand. "Give it to
Saavik."
Sarek
nodded and walked back to the jewelry box.
"Saavik will not be home for some time."
"It'll
wait for her." Chapel smiled
and went back to folding robes to put in the shipping cartons. She indulged herself, held the last one
to her nose and breathed in the faint lingerings of
Amanda's favorite perfume.
She
was crying before she realized it, and then she felt Sarek's hands on her
shoulders. "I loved her, Sarek."
"I
know. As did I." He tightened his grip. "You are exhausted. Beyond what this task has
demanded."
She
eased away from his damned telepathic hands and walked to the window, looking
out on the rose garden that someone would need to take an interest in. The flowers looked like they were
unhappy. "We lost a rescue crew
just before I went on leave. Five
people. My fault." She took a deep breath. "My call. It was the right call. So not my fault but...it is. I'm...I'm sick of this. I'm sick of people dying. I'm sorry, I need—"
"You
need to sleep. Go. Rest. I will wake you when it is time to eat. I can finish in here." He held his hand out to her.
She
eyed it with wary amusement.
"Not going to give you a chance to read me again, toots."
His
lips actually tipped up, and he dropped his hand. "You have been a great help. I would not have known where to start
without you. Now, go and
sleep."
"Okay." She touched his arm as she passed him,
suddenly not caring if he read her.
"This is harder than I thought it would be. I feel so much for her. For you."
"For
Spock?"
She
laughed. "Not hardly. He has a new woman to worry about
him." She could feel
exhaustion stealing up on her.
"And bonus points for you on finally calling her Nyota. She was so happy."
"I
was under orders to be nice to her, was I not?" His eyes crinkled slightly.
"You
sure were. Okay, I'm going to go
lie down before I fall down."
"If
you need anything, call out. I will
hear you." He turned back to
the jewelry box.
She
left him in peace and fell into bed in the room Amanda had laughingly
designated the Chapel Guestroom.
She curled up and let everything go as much as she could. She was out before she could think too
long about her lost crew.
##
Chapel
saw Ny waiting outside the new restaurant they both wanted to try. She waved
and felt herself relaxing. A girls'
night out after a long day of nothing but crises was just what she needed.
Ny
pulled her into a hug, then said, "Come inside. It's cold today."
"I
know." After Vulcan and then a
string of desert-hot or jungle-hot planets, Chapel was actually enjoying the
nippier temperatures of San Francisco.
Their
table was near a cozy fireplace, adding to the already strong French
countryside ambience of the place.
Chapel was about to give herself over to a study of the menu when she
saw Ny shrug out of her coat to reveal a familiar bracelet. "Oh."
Ny
followed her gaze and smiled. "Spock
gave it to me."
"Wow. He did?"
Ny
nodded. "It was his mom's, so
I love it for that, but...it's not really 'me,' you know?" She held her arm out, moving it so the
bracelet dangled different ways.
"I mean it's pretty, but I just don't love it. I'll wear it for a while when I'm off
duty because it makes Spock happy to see it. Then I can retire it gracefully."
Chapel
felt a knot in her throat, so she busied herself with the menu she was suddenly
having trouble seeing. Closing her
eyes for a moment, she thought of all the things Ny had gotten from admirers,
most of which she didn't really like.
This was not out-of-character behavior. And there was no law that said a gal had
to love gifts from her beau.
Just
because it was Amanda's. Just
because it should have been Saavik's.
Just because it could have been Chapel's.
"You
okay?"
"Oh,
yeah." She met Ny's eyes, putting on her best Ops mask. "Long day. Bad day."
"I
hear that." She put the menu
down. "You want to tell Mama
Ny about it?"
Chapel
laughed. "No, it's
okay." She went back to the
menu, then said softly, "He must really love you to give you that, you
know?"
"I
think he really does. Which is good
because I really love him." She
leaned in. "Is it hard for you
to talk about him—us? Because
we don't have to if it is."
"Pfffff."
She waved off that idea, pulling even more of her Ops persona in. "Of course you can talk about
him. I don't want you to have to
hold back just because of something that never happened for me." She gave Ny a stern look. "Got it?"
Ny
smiled and leaned back; the bracelet moved, catching the light, the black
pearls gleaming in subtle colors.
"Got it."
##
Chapel
sat in the Karlumi hospital, glaring at any doctor
that looked like he, she, or it was interested in checking on her patient. They went back to ignoring her. She'd made friends with several of the
nurses, though—it had never stopped paying dividends that she'd been in
those trenches—and one brought her a lunch tray.
"Thank
you, Lamala."
"You
looked hungry. And it's worth it to
watch all these doctors humbled by you.
They don't always respect us."
"Been
there, got the scars." She
took a bite of some kind of vegetable dish over rice. "This is great."
"It's
my favorite." Lamala leaned against the bed, seemed to be checking the
readings. "Are you really Ambassador
Sarek's official staff doctor? They
can't seem to find any mention of that in the negotiation correspondence."
Chapel
laughed softly.
"That's
what I thought. Enjoy your
dinner." Lamala
gave the Karlumi version of a wink and left her alone
with Sarek.
"You
lied for me?" His voice was
weak and raspy.
"I
did." She put her tray on his
bedside table and moved closer.
"How are you feeling?"
"Presumably
the way any Vulcan would feel after being shot by...who did shoot me?"
"There's
a third side in this little war.
Who knew?" She touched
his cheek. "Are you
thirsty?"
He
nodded, and she reached for the ice sticks, kept cold in stasis. She'd figured he might wake up today.
"Here
you go." She held it to his
lips, and he sucked it slowly.
"Since I know you and your insane need for details on the mission
you've been sleeping through, you've been unconscious for three days."
He
pulled away from the ice stick.
"Three?"
"'Fraid so. The
hit was nasty."
"How
long have you been here?"
"Three
days. I was just finishing up down
the street—galactically speaking—on Martovis. I
hightailed it over here when I heard you'd been hurt. Figured I had more experience working on
Vulcans than anyone here did."
"You
are undoubtedly right. Thank
you."
"You'd
do the same for me." She
rolled her eyes to let him know she knew that was a massive overstatement.
"I
would, Christine. You mean a great
deal to me."
"Well,
same here, sweetie." She
gently shook the ice stick.
"Now, focus on this. I
want you well hydrated."
"You
are as imperious as Amanda."
She
laughed softly. "I consider
that a great compliment."
##
Chapel
was just settling in for some vid and popcorn time when her door chime
rang. She closed her eyes and
wished whoever it was away.
The
chime rang again.
"Shit." She hurried to the door, opened it and
saw Sarek standing there. He
looked...furious. For a Vulcan,
anyway. "Come in."
He
didn't move. "I have just come
from dinner with my son and Commander Uhura."
"Nyota."
He
glared at her. A true glare, not
some Vulcan version of it.
"She is wearing Amanda's bracelet."
"You
didn't know Spock gave it to her?"
Sarek
shook his head, then seemed to realize he was still in the hallway and stepped
in, allowing her to close the door.
"I left it in the jewelry box.
I told Spock to take what he wanted of her things. It never occurred to me he would take
that and give it to her."
There was no special emphasis on the way he said "her." It was the lack of it that made the
statement so telling.
"Sometimes
you have to be explicit. As you
said, though, Saavik doesn't wear jewelry."
He
turned to look at her. "I am not
angry on Saavik's behalf but on yours."
"Well,
don't be. You told Spock to take
what he wanted and he did. I had
already refused it."
"For
reasons that had to do with it staying in the family. Why are you not more...energetically
opposed to this?"
She
pushed him gently into the living room.
"Because there's not a damn thing I can do about it. You like popcorn?"
He
turned to look at her, his expression one of slight confusion, so she shot him an
"I'm not making a big deal about this so cut it the hell out"
look. He finally took a deep breath
and let it out slowly.
"Once
again. Do you like popcorn?"
"I
do."
She
laughed softly. "Really?"
"Amanda
prepared it often. Usually in
conjunction with some violent or overly optimistic romantic video."
"We're
going for violent tonight. You
in?" She grinned and leaned
in, getting close to his ear and saying "I'll even make you tea" as
seductively as she could.
"With lime." Then
she laughed and pointed in the general area of the couch and chairs. "Take a load off, toots."
"Your
cavalier attitude does not make this better, Christine."
She
touched him on the arm. "I'm
not cavalier, not really. I hate
that she has it, all right? I
fucking hate it." She took a
deep breath. "It's not that
it's a bracelet—or that it's a beautiful one. I never wear bracelets, to be
honest. It's that it was
Amanda's. That it's something of
hers. That's what I hate. Ny didn't know her the way I did. That's why I'm mad, because I feel like
I lost her again somehow."
He
did not appear fazed by her language.
He simply stared at her, his eyes narrowing. Finally, he nodded, then put his hand
over hers where it sat on his arm.
"My son was a fool, Christine."
"No,
Sarek, he probably wasn't." She
let go of his arm, pulled on her Ops armor. "All right, then. Resign yourself to a night of
outrageously improbable action, bubba."
He
seemed to understand her need for a perkier tone and change of subject. "Your repertoire of pet names is
increasing."
"Well,
I don't want you to get tired of any one of them." She waited until he was headed to the
couch—brave man choosing to sit so close to her: it was clear from the
throw and the glass on the coffee table that she had been sitting there—then
headed into the kitchen. "I'm
making your tea. Do not eat all the
popcorn." She frowned. "I thought you said you just came
from dinner? You're still hungry?"
"I
did not have much appetite once I saw the bracelet."
She
closed her eyes. She could imagine
what Ny would want to talk about at lunch tomorrow: what an asshole her
potential future father-in-law had been, even if Ny wouldn't have realized why. Maybe Chapel could work through lunch
the next couple of days till Ny forgot about it?
##
A
knock sounded on Chapel's open door to her office, then Ny said softly,
"You avoiding me?"
Chapel
looked up, almost happy that her ploy of working through lunch hadn't been
necessary since they'd had crisis after crisis and no one had gotten around to
even thinking about lunch—other than grabbing something from the vending
area on the way back from the restrooms.
"Bad time."
"It
looks a little crazy out there."
Ny glanced back into Ops.
"Did Sarek talk to you?"
"Sarek
talks to me all the time."
"Hmmm. Okay. About that..."
Chapel
looked up from her terminal.
"Ny, hon', you know I'm here for you if
you need to talk about Spock and stuff, but I'm up to my ass in
emergencies. Rain check?"
It
wasn't the harshest way to shut her friend down, but it obviously didn't feel
good to Ny. Her expression changed
to a tight one, and she said in a fake, breezy tone, "Sure. Fine. We'll do this later." She turned and hurried out.
"Shit." Chapel almost got up to call her back,
but she hadn't been lying—she was
up to her ass in crises.
She
heard her message queue chime and glanced at it. Make that up to her neck, now. She felt a profound wave of exhaustion
sweep over her. Did this shit never
go away?
She
closed her eyes. Of course it
didn't. War, famine, drought,
epidemics, natural disasters—they all were bound to happen somewhere,
somehow, sometime.
Most
people went on about their lives not having to care, though. She had the sneaking suspicion she was
getting too damn old for this business.
But
she forced her head back into the game and got back to work.
##
The
Vulcan Embassy was gorgeous, decorated with firepots—placed out of the
reach of any robes or long skirts—and flowers. Glad to be in one of the gowns she'd
bought for her last boyfriend and then never got to use once they'd broken up,
Chapel made her way through the salon, nodding to the staffers she'd come to
know over the years.
She
saw Spock and Ny standing by the door to the courtyard and nearly veered off,
but she had to face this. Or maybe
it was Spock who had to face this.
Chapel had done her level best to not insert herself into his time with
Sarek but it was inevitable that their paths would cross eventually if she was
going to continue her friendship with his father.
What
felt inevitable, though, as she walked up to Ny and Spock was the way his face
seemed to freeze—the look of distaste he managed to muster up as if she'd
forgotten to shower.
"I
did not realize you would be here, Commander Chapel."
"Spock,
call her Christine." Ny
actually socked him in the arm, and Chapel bit back a laugh. "We've been over this."
"She
is not here for you, my son."
Sarek appeared out of nowhere, handing her a glass
of...something—she had no idea what he'd just given her, but she took a
sip as if it was her poison of choice.
Wine. Good. And he was drinking it too?
He
sipped it, then looked at her.
"This is the wine from our estates in the south. I told you about them."
She
wasn't entirely sure what he was doing since he'd never mentioned having a
vineyard, but she nodded and played along. "It's wonderful."
He
nodded back, as if satisfied with her acting skills. "As I was saying, Spock, Christine
is here as my...guest."
She
felt herself turn red. Did he mean that
the way it had come out? He'd put a
strange emphasis on the word "guest."
"I
see." Spock's face was like
stone. "Her?"
"I'm
standing right here, asshole."
Oh, shit, had she really said that out loud? "I mean—"
"I
think your meaning was quite clear."
Sarek turned her gently.
"Let me introduce you to Minister Sajar."
"Okay." As he led her toward a cluster of
people, none of whom appeared to be Minister Sajar,
she murmured, "I am so sorry, Sarek.
Did anyone else hear me?"
"I
do not think so. I enjoyed the
expression on my son's face."
He sipped his wine.
"Are you composed? I do
want you to meet the minister."
She
laughed. "Give me a sec. He's just so...arrogant. Like the only reason I'd be here is to
chase after him."
"I
presume you are referring to my son and not the minister."
She
laughed. "Right."
His
eyes crinkled slightly; she decided she loved that expression more than any
other of his.
"My
filters are shot, Sarek. I'm just
so tired."
"I
am aware of that. Which is why I
want you to meet the minister. I
took the liberty of telling him I was considering adding you to my staff. As a scientific, medical, and emergency
operations advisor on loan from Starfleet."
She
stared at him, dumbfounded.
"I
am given to unilateral moves. This
is not news to you, Christine. You
heard Amanda berate me many times for just this sort of thing."
She
started to smile. "I
did."
"Is
it an unwelcome idea? You are burning
out, I believe."
"I'm
already burnt out. At this point,
I'm just smoldering ruins."
"Then
come meet the minister. You will
impress him, I am sure."
"Not
if I call him an asshole."
"I
agree." His voice was tinged
with humor. "Perhaps just use
his title."
She
met his eyes. "Do I have to
impress him to get the job?"
"No. I write my own ticket, as you know. You are adept at that, as well. We will be a fine team." He dropped his voice. "We will travel together. We will...be together."
She
swallowed harder than she meant to.
"You mean as coworkers."
"That
is not solely what I meant."
His eyes seemed to burn into her.
"If this does not sound appealing, I will drop the matter."
"The
job, too? Or just the being
together part?"
"Whichever
offends."
"Did
I say anything about you or your offer offended me?" When he shook his head slowly, she
forced the smile off her face, made it sterner. Amanda had often told her that Sarek was
a man who took a mile when given an inch.
"In the future, you should include me in important decisions that
involve the two of us."
"In
the future, I shall. However, I saw
an opportunity to help both of us and took it."
She
smiled. "I do admire
that. Okay, let's go meet this
minister."
##
Chapel
sat in the courtyard while the reception went on around her, considering this
new life Sarek was offering her.
She was annoyed with him for not asking her, but his logic was
sound. She was exhausted and what
he hadn't said was that she was too proud to let go of Ops without a good
reason. He'd given her
one—she'd derailed one career for Roger, now she'd gracefully exit this
latest one for Sarek.
But,
not really for him. It was for
herself. She could leave Sarek's
team if she didn't like it. It was
a temporary assignment and she'd still be Starfleet, based on how Sarek had
described the whole deal he'd worked up in his head to Minister Sajar.
A
low cough made her look up. Spock
stood in front of her, Nyota nowhere in sight. She held up her hand before he could say
anything, "I'm sorry I called you an asshole."
"Apology
accepted." He sat next to her
on the bench. "Jim's and my
mother's deaths have not left me in the best state. I am sorry for how I reacted."
She
studied him. "You're only
apologizing because you've realized I'm important to your father, aren't
you?"
He
met her eyes. "It is certainly
an inducement to—how would Leonard say it—bury the hatchet?"
She
laughed, could imagine Spock wanting to clock her with the hatchet. "Peace, then."
He
took a deep breath, seemed to be studying their surroundings. Finally he said, very softly, "My
mother told me, as she lay dying, that my father was not a man who should be
alone for long. And that she did
not want him to be, that she wanted him to be happy. She indicated that..." He took a deep breath. "She indicated that she wanted it
to be with you, and I was not to stand in the way of that."
She
felt her expression go from sympathy to shock. "What?"
"It
is why I sent you away. I knew you
were not there for me. I have long
been aware of the friendship you have forged, separate from anything to do with
me, with my parents. Both of them. My mother loved you. She told me she wanted you with Sarek,
but I...I could not bear the thought of it. Not because it was you. Because it was—"
"Anyone. Taking her place."
"Yes." He met her eyes. "However, she wanted this so I will
not stand in the way. It will be
odd, however, if you become my stepmother."
She
laughed softly. "No
kidding." She felt something
leaving her, some tension she'd carried ever since Spock had been so nasty
after Amanda's death. "On the
plus side, if you marry Ny, you know she'll get along with me."
"That
thought has occurred to me."
She
laughed gently. "Gotta find that silver lining. It's the Ops way."
"You
are leaving Ops, I hear."
She
rolled her eyes. "So I hear,
too."
Spock
almost smiled. "It is my
father's nature to try to plan the lives of those he cares about. You must not let him do that. My mother was quite strong, despite her
submission to Vulcan custom. He did
not run roughshod over her. At
least not very often, and never without consequences."
She
was shocked he was giving her this.
"I'll keep that in mind."
As he got up to leave, she said, "It's strange, isn't it? You knew what would happen before Sarek
or I did."
He
raised an eyebrow. "I would
not assume my mother did not have the same talk with Sarek that she did with
me." His expression grew very
gentle. "Life is often strange, Christine. Never more so than where love is
concerned." He walked away and
joined Ny inside.
Chapel
watched them for a moment, saw the gold and pearls gleaming on Ny's wrist. She
looked away, starting to cry but not because she didn't have the bracelet. It would seem that Amanda had wanted her
to have a much bigger gift.
"Are
you all right?" Sarek strode
up to her as if ready to do battle.
"I saw Spock was speaking with you."
'And
we both survived the encounter, dear.
So calm down."
"I
am quite calm." Then his lips
ticked up ever so slightly.
"'Dear' was delivered with less than your normal sarcasm."
"That's
because I meant it." She
stared up at him, wondering what he would do with the simple truth.
"Most
gratifying. Come in. There are more people I wish you to
meet."
"You
know you're really bossy, right?
That's going to end."
He
reached for her elbow as she rose, gave it a squeeze, and then let it go. He was the picture of Vulcan decorum
except that his eyes were crinkling madly.
"It will be interesting to see if you are right."
END