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) 2019 by Djinn. This story
is Rated PG-13.
Captive Audience
By Djinn
In the low light of the cave,
Chapel eased her leg out from under Spock's and studied him. They were lying
close together in the small space, had just cleared a slide of falling earth
and rock as they dove for shelter. He had pushed her ahead of him, and the bits
of debris they hadn't outrun had fallen on him. Now his eyes were closed and
blood was trickling down his face.
Her medical bag was poking
into her back, and she drew it over her shoulder gingerly, afraid to knock
anything since she wasn't sure if the cave was stable. She moved carefully in
the tight space so she wouldn't hit Spock with her elbow and add to any damage.
First she pulled out the
tricorder and checked the air. There was light coming from the narrow gaps over
their heads, so she hoped that meant fresh air was coming in too. The tricorder
confirmed it. They might die of thirst, but they wouldn't suffocate.
Then she eased the scanner
from the bag, checking herself first to make sure she wasn't bleeding out and
didn't know it. She'd be of no use to Spock if she were dead. Fortunately, she
was fine, so she moved on to him. The head wound was superficial, the blood
already stopping. The rest of him scanned okay. She gently shook him.
He opened his eyes and looked
pretty much the way she'd expected he would, coming awake to find himself in
such close proximity to her.
"Doctor Chapel."
Well, no amnesia. "Other
than your head, does anything hurt?" The scanner said he shouldn't be in
pain, but there was no input like that from the actual patient.
He seemed to be assessing.
"No." He began to look around—clearly trying not to touch her as he
moved. "This cave appeared larger from the outside."
"Don't worry. Jim will
find us."
"Are you reassuring me
or yourself?"
"I don't know. It seemed
a positive thing to say. Under the circumstances." Although Jim finding
them soon would probably be more
welcome news to him, stuck in here with her.
He wiped his face and studied
the blood on his hand.
As he reached up to where the
wound was, she grabbed his hand. "You'll just make it bleed again." Then she let go of him as quickly as she
could. "We've got air. No water. My communicator is buried, I think. I
reached around but couldn't find it."
He dug around behind his
back, came out with his communicator, which miracles of miracles worked. Or at
least, it turned on and made the appropriate noises. It just didn't reach
anyone.
"Interference," he
said softly.
"Does that mean they
won't find us if they scan the area?"
"I am uncertain."
"Is that the truth or
are you just trying not to panic me?"
"The latter."
She closed her eyes.
"Can't they extrapolate where we might have run to based on where we were?
The communicators are traceable right—until the point that this cave got buried?"
They'd been in a gully; there'd been nowhere else to run. He'd seen the cave
and practically dislocated her shoulder as he'd grabbed her hand, jerked her
around, and said, "Run!"
He'd saved her.
Officer training, muscle
memory—she doubted it had been deliberate.
"They should be able to
do that," he said.
She didn't have the heart to
ask if he was once again sparing her feelings. As the tininess of the space
began to work on her, she focused on keeping her breathing even and closed her
eyes.
"Are you injured and not
telling me?"
"No. I'm claustrophobic
and admitting it. If you ever want to hide from me, the Jefferies tubes are a
good place." She kept her eyes closed as she focused on her breathing.
"Duly noted." His
voice sounded closer. "He will
find us."
She nodded, trying to forget
that they needed rescue. In and hold, and out and hold, and over and over—until
they died. "Distract me, Spock. Please?"
"I do not remember you
referring to Jim by his first name during the first mission."
"I didn't."
He seemed to be waiting so
she opened her eyes. "I cannot distract you, Christine, if you do not
elaborate."
"Oh. Right. Good
point." Also, did he just call her by her first name? And did he sound
almost...tender doing it?
Maybe the air wasn't all that
good. Was she hallucinating?
"Are you
panicking?" Again his voice was low and soft, and he touched her temple
gently.
"I'm not," she
whispered, and it was mostly true, but also because he didn't yank his hand
back the way she expected. He left it on her, the heat of his fingers soothing.
"Are you and Jim
involved? I have asked him and he seems to enjoy not giving me a straight
answer."
"Do you care if I
am?"
He began to stroke instead of
just touch, gentle but firm movements on her skin.
She moaned and then said,
"I'm sorry."
"I can feel you are
enjoying it. You merely vocalized your enjoyment. Why apologize?"
"Because touching me
isn't something you used to do of your own volition."
"Perhaps things have
changed. Also, you have not answered my question."
"Have things
changed?" She bit back a smile at the idea that she was doing the same
thing to him that Jim probably was.
They weren't involved, but
they'd become good friends after being on Earth with everyone else busy or
gone. They might have become more if she hadn't been leaving. And now that he
was her captain again—well, his rules were clear.
Plus she was in love with the
guy who suddenly wanted to play with her hair—holy God that felt good—and Jim
knew it.
And Spock no doubt knew it
too—stupid telepathic hands.
He leaned in slightly.
"Answer my question first."
"No." She laughed
at his expression—he looked so put out. "Why should I? Are you just
curious? Or do you truly care?"
"Answer and perhaps you
shall find out."
She grinned and realized the
panicky feeling inside her was fading. "You're really good at
distracting."
"You are not. Answer the
question."
"He and I are very good
friends. That's all." She touched his face and he closed his eyes.
"So...is that of interest to you?"
"It is."
God damn, the way he said it,
the huskiness of his voice that still lingered even weeks after V'ger, the way
he was watching her: it was all so damn sexy. "Do you think I care?"
"I do. I could feel your
pleasure at my answer."
"Can you feel all kinds
of pleasure?"
"Yes."
"You're not going to keep
distracting me if you don't elaborate." She laughed at his expression.
"Very well." He
eased her toward him. "I will elaborate." He ran his fingers lightly
down her cheek, then did it again and again causing her to shiver. "I can
tell that excites you. Being close to me. My touching you this way."
"Maybe..." She
tried to bite back another laugh and failed.
He traced her lips with his
finger. "I can tell you enjoy that."
"Well, who
wouldn't?" She returned the favor and he closed his eyes and inhaled
sharply as she played. "Also, we might never get out of here. Maybe my
reactions aren't what they might be if we weren't trapped and lying so
close."
"Perhaps not." He
shifted, clearly trying to get comfortable.
She eased him toward her.
"I'm not trying to escalate this. I just think we could both be more
comfortable."
He moved carefully and then
said, "That is better. Thank you."
"I'm still a doctor.
Even if I am enjoying whatever it is you're
doing."
"I am distracting
you." His lips ticked up slightly. "I may also be seducing you."
"You? Why, Mister Spock.
How unlike you." She frowned. "This isn't the Pon
Farr, is it?"
"No. It is not that. Nor
is it V'ger's influence. I have waited, to approach
you. I wanted to be sure. I did not want to hurt you by acting on urges that
might not last."
"Thank you. You might
have waited a little too long, though. If they really can't find us."
"They will find us. I
have faith in Jim."
"Well, me too. But it
would be just my luck." She sighed. "I bet you can last longer
without water."
"Probably so." He
studied her. "You do not seem unduly upset at the idea of dying."
"I'm so tired, Spock.
Med school, then trying to learn how to be CMO on a ship that nobody thought I
deserved to be CMO on. It was exhausting. So while dying wouldn't be my ideal
resolution, a little rest—and this nice distracting talk with you—seems very
welcome."
"You are a complex
woman."
"Or a really dull
one." She grinned and said in a sappy voice, "Just give me the guy I
love for a few minutes and some shut-eye, and I'll die a happy woman."
"You love me."
"Well, shit. I didn't
really mean to say that." She studied him; he didn't seem perturbed.
"How does that make you feel? That I love you?"
"Relieved. It will make
the seduction much easier. I anticipate not being overly skilled in that
department."
"And you're admitting
it?"
He nodded.
"But you've done it?
Right?"
"Intercourse? Yes. But
never as the seducer. Never in my right mind, either."
"Well, the air might be
thin in here. Or there could be gas." There wasn't gas. She'd checked
that, and by the way he looked at her, she could tell he knew that.
"I think not. So you
will have to deal with the real me."
"Well I happen to like
the real you. I told you that in an overly emotional way when I was hyped up on
the Psi2000 virus, remember? I like the human Mister Spock and the Vulcan
Mister Spock. I don't expect you to be one or the other—just what you
are."
"That is an agreeable
concept."
She closed her eyes. "It
is."
"I thought of you. When
I was at Gol."
"Thought of me how? As
something nasty you'd be escaping?" She tried to keep the sarcasm low; she
didn't really understand how Gol worked or why she'd have come to mind.
"No. As a regret. Someone
I never let in." He exhaled slowly. "We had to release such things.
It is impossible to purge emotions that one is tied to by regret or guilt or
other strong impulses."
"I bet." So she was
a regret. That was interesting.
Then again how many others
were too? "You know Nyota likes you, right?"
"I am aware of that. I
did not request her on this mission, though, did I?"
He'd requested her? She'd
thought Len had just refused to go. "Hmmm."
"Is that a sound of
pleasure or consternation?"
"More confusion. Were
you going to say something to me, to clue me into your interest? I mean if we
hadn't ended up here?"
"Eventually. But once we
were in here, you needed distracting and I believed this would do the job
admirably."
"You weren't
wrong."
"I rarely am."
"Oh my God—is that what
I'm going to have to deal with? Monumental ego?" Not unlike Roger, when
you came right down to it. Should be like falling off a log.
"Is it ego if it is
true?"
"Good question. I
imagine you may find yourself right less frequently when it comes to
interpersonal matters than scientific."
"I will concede that.
Are you highly variable in mood?"
She considered that.
"Not really. I mean I use sarcasm like a saber—learned from the best,
after all, in sickbay. But I think I'm pretty even keeled. Roger used to tell
me I was his rock."
"I would concur. You
came back to my quarters even though I had thrown the soup you made for me at
you."
"I may just be a
doormat."
His lips almost ticked up
again. "I do not think so."
"You never know. I may
bore you in days."
"I think it far more
likely that I will bore you."
"We'll always have
science. Not that we've really talked that much about it."
"I have considered that.
A common interest."
"Why didn't you talk science
to me?" She narrowed her eyes.
"At the time, as I was
unsure of my path, I did not wish to draw you closer to me if I was going to
leave. Gol had been in my mind since I was a teen. I have struggled for so long
to be...Vulcan. It always seemed like an answer."
"A shining city on the
hill. Roger was that for me. A partner I loved, a project I wasn't going to get
sick of, tenure that would be hard to get otherwise, respect that I craved.
Sometimes shining cities on the hill are just mirages."
"That is true."
"If V'ger hadn't
called—would you have stayed?"
"I believe I would have.
I think, however, it would not have been my best destiny."
"Yeah, I'm inclined to
think that too." She grinned as she gently touched his nose with her
finger. "But I'm selfish that way." Also
maybe assuming a great deal. "So do you just want to get me out of your
system or are you looking for something more enduring?"
"Which do you
desire?"
"I asked you
first."
"Had I wanted to get you
out of my system, I would have approached you while I was compromised from the
meld with V'ger."
"So you could blame its
influence once you wanted out?"
He nodded.
"But you didn't do
that."
"I did not."
"So you want more?"
"Yes. Unless we prove
incompatible."
"In bed or in
life?" Damn she was enjoying just talking with him. She'd imagined a lot
of things about him but being this fun wasn't one of them.
"I have no doubt you
will teach me anything I need to know to please you sexually. But general
compatibility may prove more problematic." He went back to playing with
her hair. "I do not think so, though. I find your presence both arousing
and soothing. I look forward to discovering your interests, how your mind
works."
"Ditto." She leaned
closer. "I also look forward to knowing how you kiss me when there aren't
a bunch of Greek pervs staring us down."
"I could show you."
"Mmm
hmm. You could." She smiled, the best smile she could give him, one free
of irony so he'd know she wasn't kidding even if her tone had been teasing.
"You have a beautiful
smile. I have always thought so." He leaned in, his lips light on hers,
playful even, as he kissed her, as she opened her mouth to him, as they both
groaned.
Then he pulled away. "Do
I pass?"
"Nope. Gonna have to do that so many more times before I even give
you a D." She was touching his cheek as she said it, so he'd know how much
she enjoyed it, how much she wanted more kisses—more everything. Except not
right this second since she didn't want to bring the cave down around them
because they were too dumb to wait until they were freed.
And somehow she knew they
would be. She felt something she hadn't since Will had died.
Hope. Spock had given her
hope.
He was watching her as she
processed this, a curious look on his face.
"You make me feel...like
there's a future again. It's...unexpected."
He pulled her back to him,
kissing less gently this time.
When he let her go, she
whispered, "You get an A+ on distracting. You can, in fact, distract me
any time."
"I am relieved I excel
at something."
"I like kissing
you."
"I know that."
She waited, finally whapped
him lightly on the shoulder.
His eyes were shining as he
said, "Ah, I am remiss. I, too, enjoy kissing you." Then he pulled
her back and kissed her some more.
She wasn't sure how long
they'd been at it when she heard Jim's voice. "You two comfy in
there?"
She and Spock pulled away,
but not quickly, not like they had anything to be guilty over, and they looked
up. In one of the gaps, hovering just over their heads, was a little
exploratory drone that had been set up with a camera.
"How come that works and
our communicators don't?"
Scotty's voice filled the
space. "Modified it to override the distortion all those metals in the
dirt are causing, lassie."
"How many people are
watching us?"
"Just the two of us,
Chris. You two seem pretty happy there. You want me to come get you
later?" He was laughing and she heard Scotty snickering.
"I'm going to kill
you."
"Captain," Spock
said as if they hadn't been caught making out, "we would appreciate being
released. I assume transporters will not function for this."
"You assume right. But
we'll have you out in a jiffy." The drone still hovered. "Oh, did you
two want some privacy while we did that?"
Spock reached out, pulled the
drone down to him, did something to the back of it and the camera went black,
then let it go back to hovering. "That will not be necessary."
"Hey. Hey where'd you
go?" Jim was laughing.
"Not to worry, Captain.
I can run the sensors even if we can't watch the two lovebirds."
"What fun is that? Fine.
As you were, you two. It might take a while to move all that dirt. Kirk
out."
"They can still hear
us," she whispered into Spock's ear.
"I know," he
mouthed. And then he pulled her to him and went back to kissing.
They tried to keep the happy
moans to a minimum.
They tried and failed.
FIN