DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters are the
property of Paramount Studios, Inc and Viacom. The
story contents are the creation and property of Djinn and are copyright (c)
2013 by Djinn. This story is Rated R.
Drastic Measures
by
Djinn
Chapel
woke to darkness, the sound of movement all around her, and the feel of a hand
over her mouth.
ÒDo
not move. We are in grave danger,Ó
Spock whispered into her ear, his words nearly inaudible.
She
lay as still as she could and assessed the situation. She was in intense pain and she realized
something was tied over her eyes.
Was she injured? She doubted
Spock was suddenly into playing Blind ManÕs Bluff. HeÕd changed since she last worked with
him, but not that much.
She
remembered back, and her whimsical thoughts disappeared as she recalled their
flitter crashing, remembered hitting her head, and SpockÕs voice as he lifted
her from the wreckage. His very
worried voice.
Wreckage
she couldnÕt see. She hadnÕt been able
to see anything.
SheÕd
been bleeding, but her eyes appeared fine, according to Spock. For whatever reason, they and her brain had
refused to communicate. Spock had
wrapped her head to staunch the blood flow—like any head wound, this one
had bled profusely, or so heÕd told her.
Hurt like a mother, too, but then sheÕd cracked it hard.
Was
it still bleeding? If her scanner
was working, sheÕd have him check for internal hemorrhaging, but none of their
equipment had worked after the crash.
Spock had thought it was some kind of pulse that had taken out the
systems of their flitter and forced them down.
She
could smell the distinct resinous-amber scent that permeated the Mallutian home world.
She and Spock were part of a Starfleet team, joint diplomatic and
emergency ops. It had seemed like a
good idea when Spock had broached it, after JimÕs death on the Enterprise-B and ScottyÕs disappearance
on the Jenolan. HeÕd wanted to work with her, and even
though she had a feeling it was only because there werenÕt many old friends
left he could work with, sheÕd said
yes. SheÕd had reservations about
the utility of the mission, but the planetÕs brutal civil war had taken so many
lives that she was willing to try if Spock wanted to.
Was
the war going to take their lives, too?
Which side had shot their flitter down? Did it even matter? After a week here, she was convinced
neither side would ever give ground, and bringing down the clearly marked envoy
flitter was, in her opinion, a good indication she was right.
She
felt Spock touch her face, his fingers unexpectedly gentle. She realized the footsteps had receded.
She
heard him trying to raise the temporary headquarters theyÕd set up. Still nothing. Then he said, ÒWe can go now. But carefully.Ó
It
was a swell plan, but something felt very wrong in her left leg, and when she
moved it, a jolt of pain surged through her. The pain in her head had muffled the
other things wrong with her. Her
left wrist, too, felt wrenched—possibly broken—now that she was paying
attention.
ÒIÕm
not sure I can walk, Spock.Ó
ÒThen
I will carry you.Ó
ÒHow
far do you think you can do that? I know youÕre strong, but the terrain here is
hazardous, and whoever shot us down might be looking for us.Ó
ÒChristine,
I appreciate you being logical, but desist. I am not leaving you alone and we cannot
stay here.Ó There was something in
his voice she didnÕt think would have been there before theyÕd lost Jim and
Scotty.
ÒOkay,
fine, but take off this head wrap.
I want to see if my visionÕs still gone.Ó
He
unwound the cloth, and she could make out the most basic details in front of
her. It wasnÕt great, but it was
better than nothing. ÒI can see a
tiny bit. Am I still bleeding?Ó
He
gently pushed her head forward. ÒNo.Ó He took her arm and led her off at an
easy pace.
ÒDo
you have any idea where we are going?Ó
ÒI
believe so.Ó
ÒYou
only believe so?Ó She laughed
softly. ÒWeÕre so screwed.Ó
ÒYour
faith in me is touching.Ó He
tightened his hold on her arm. ÒGo
carefully here. The footing is
uneven.Ó
ÒYou
must be really worried about me to touch me this much.Ó
ÒDo
not waste breath, Christine.Ó
ÒAnd to use my first name.Ó
ÒPlease?Ó He sounded just shy of desperate.
ÒAnd
to resort to that tone of voice.
Fine, IÕll shut up.Ó She put
all her energy into walking, trying not to lean on him any more than she had
to—not because she thought it was offensive to him, but because she
wasnÕt sure if he was hurt or not, and she knew heÕd never tell her if he was.
Her
vision cleared the more they walked.
Unfortunately, the pain in her leg became worse with every step,
too. ÒSpock, I donÕt know how much
farther I can go.Ó
ÒShhh.Ó He was
clearly listening to something she couldnÕt hear. ÒGet down. Now.Ó He pushed her into some bushes, followed
her in, and they lay very still as a flitter went over.
Once
it was gone, she said as softly as she could, ÒWhoever shot us down wants
us. It wasnÕt random, was it?Ó
ÒI
do not believe so. We would make
excellent hostages.Ó
ÒWe
would make more than that. With
what we know between us, we could give either side a very big advantage.Ó
He
sighed. ÒThat thought had occurred
to me.Ó
ÒSo
what do we do? I canÕt keep
walking, Spock. Not forever.Ó
ÒI
can help perhaps. Let me in.Ó His fingers were on the meld points and
she tensed without meaning to.
ÒChristine, please. Relax
and let me help you.Ó
In
the old days, it would have been so easy to let him in—she would have
given anything for him to want in.
But now, she was used to keeping people out, not letting them in. She was Ops to the core these days. No sharing was the rule. SheÕd carried it to extremes, perhaps,
of late, with how little sheÕd connected with anyone, but it kept her from
worrying about what she might have said in her sleep.
ÒChristine.Ó
She
didnÕt like the alternative to him helping her, so she let him in. The feeling of him in her mind was
familiar from the one time theyÕd shared consciousness but also utterly new
since this was so much more...purposeful.
Spock was not just hiding out in her head.
She
felt the pain in her leg subside slightly.
Then he was out of her mind, saying, ÒThat is the best I can do.Ó
ÒItÕs
good enough. LetÕs go.Ó
He
hauled her up as gently as she thought possible, and they set off again.
##
Spock
did not like how many flitters seemed to be closing in on them. He had the distinct impression they were
being herded toward something, even if he thought theyÕd been successful in
hiding each time a flitter had flown over.
He
was not sure how many more times Christine would be able to get up; the melds
were no longer helping her pain.
The
only positive thing was that her eyesight seemed to be fully restored.
He
turned her to get away from the sound of flitters to the left of them and realized
they were indeed being herded. In
front of them was a sheer rock wall cutting off all progress unless they went
up. He could climb it; Christine
could not.
She
looked at it and eased away from his supporting hand. ÒWeÕre trapped, arenÕt we? Or I am. I bet you could climb that.Ó
ÒThere
may be another way up and over.Ó He
listened behind them. The flitters
were definitely massing. There
would be no going back the way they had come in.
ÒFor
you. Not for me.Ó She tightened her hold on his hand, her
face full of a resolve he was not used to, and said, ÒYou canÕt leave me here
for them to find. Their methods are
brutal and I donÕt know that I can hold out against them. I know too much, Spock.Ó
ÒThen
you will try the climb.Ó He started
to move, tried to get her to go with him, but she stayed where she was.
ÒYouÕre not hearing what IÕm saying.
You canÕt leave me here alive
for them to find.Ó
ÒYou
are serious?Ó
She
started to laugh—a slightly hysterical sound. ÒThe needs of the many, right? I know how strong you are. A simple neck pinch and then what would
it be for you to snap my neck?Ó
ÒI
am not going to kill you.Ó
ÒWell,
weÕre stuck because the only other way is up and my leg wonÕt take it and you
canÕt carry me—and even if you could, it would slow you down. YouÕd never get clear of whoever is on
our tail.Ó She took a breath; it sounded
ragged to him. ÒDo you have another
idea? IÕd rather not die.Ó
ÒWe
go back.Ó He started to lead her
the way theyÕd come, looking for any place they could hide.
Nothing.
ÒSpock,
even I can hear them now. WeÕre out
of options.Ó
He
pulled her into some bushes as another flitter came into the area.
ÒSpock?Ó
ÒDo
you trust me?Ó
ÒYou
are not carrying me.Ó
ÒI agree. That solution is
unworkable. Do you trust me,
Christine?Ó
ÒYes.Ó
She
felt his hands on her face, his fingers going to the meld points.
ÒThey
cannot take what is not there,Ó he said.
ÒYouÕre
going to wipe my memory?Ó
ÒNot
the memories: your access to them.
Theoretically, I should be able to fix them once we get you back.Ó
ÒTheoretically?Ó Her soft laughter grew more hysterical. ÒWhat are you going to get back, though? IÕve seen the survivors of torture on
this planet.Ó She swallowed hard,
then suddenly pushed his fingers more firmly into her skin. ÒDo it. Before I can think of all the reasons
this is a stupid plan.Ó
He
was inside her mind quickly, felt her intense fear but equally strong determination. He worked as carefully as he could while
moving rapidly through her memories, snipping linkages to whole swaths of time.
But
how far back should he go?
Even
some of her work with Doctor Korby might be of interest to those concerned with
winning a war at any cost. He found
the time when sheÕd just begun her relationship with Korby, when sheÕd just
started to learn all the things he was working on.
He
checked to make sure he could find the disassociated memories again and then
left her with a strong suggestion of: ÒYou trust Spock. Spock is a friend. Spock will find you.Ó
He
eased out.
She
opened her eyes and looked at him, and although the body was that of the woman
he knew, the eyes were those of a much younger woman. Innocent. Full of hope, he thought.
What
would these people do to such a woman?
He closed his eyes and asked as gently as he could, ÒDo you know who you
are?Ó
She
smiled, a sweeter—and more flirtatious—smile than heÕd ever seen. ÒOf course. IÕm Christine Chapel. Who are you?Ó
ÒI
am SpockÓ
ÒI
can trust you.Ó She frowned. ÒBut do I know you?Ó
ÒYou
do. I will come back for you. Do you understand?Ó
ÒWhereÕs
Roger? He should be
here—where are we? This isnÕt
Earth, is it? How can this not be
Earth? I would remember leaving it
for the first time.Ó
ÒIt
is not Earth. I am sorry for what
they will do to you. I will be back
as soon as I can.Ó
ÒYouÕre
leaving me here?Ó
ÒYou
are hurt. Your leg. Your wrist.Ó He touched her hair—an unnecessary
indulgence. ÒYour head.Ó
ÒOh.Ó
ÒI
will bring help. Be strong.Ó
ÒWhy?Ó She must have read something in his face
because she swallowed hard. ÒDo I
have to be brave? Because I donÕt
think I am that.Ó
ÒYou
are. Trust me.Ó He forced himself to his feet. There was nothing more he could do here.
He
ran for the cliffs.
##
Christine
watched as the Vulcan who somehow felt so familiar left her. Where was Roger? She was supposed to be meeting him for
lunch and now here she was on some dusty planet with a bum leg and a clearly
broken wrist. Why didnÕt the Vulcan
just walk her out the other way? So
much for that speciesÕ supposed brilliance.
She
heard a strange noise coming from behind her, looked up and saw flitters. Quite a few flitters. YouÕd think this was Cambridge during a
parade.
Once
theyÕd landed, a man who was obviously in command—she was used to
spotting powerful men after being with Roger for a few months—walked over
to her. ÒCommander Chapel.Ó
Commander? What? ÒI think you have the wrong person.Ó
ÒWould
you prefer Doctor? I have seen your
resume.Ó
ÒOh,
IÕm not a doctor yet. I just
started the Ph.D. program.Ó She
gave him her most winning smile, the one that had gotten her off the hook with
professors for years now.
No
joy. His expression didnÕt change.
He yanked her up by her bad wrist, and she cried out in pain. ÒYou are a comedian, too,
Commander? I didnÕt realize that.Ó
ÒI
donÕt know who you think I am, but IÕm sure youÕre wrong. My name is Christine Chapel, and IÕm a
grad student.Ó
ÒYouÕre
name is Christine Chapel, but you are
highly placed in Starfleet. And you
know things we want to know.Ó
ÒStarfleet?Ó She laughed, couldnÕt help herself. As if sheÕd ever join Starfleet? ÒLook, my fiancŽ is here somewhere. He can clear this up.Ó
ÒAh,
Ambassador Spock is your fiancŽ?Ó
ÒSpock?Ó The Vulcan? They thought she was involved with the guy
whoÕd just abandoned her? ÒNo, not
him. Roger. Roger Korby. HeÕs famous. You must know him.Ó
The
manÕs eyes narrowed. ÒAre you
trying to pretend you have amnesia from the flitter accident? Because in time you will give up this
charade.Ó He pushed her to one of
his men, making her cry out again as her leg was wrenched.
She
was loaded on the flitter, held in place by weapons pointed at her and the
strong hand of the man next to her.
He held her by her bad wrist, and she tried not to cry as he twisted it
just, she thought, because he could.
ÒI
love blue eyes.Ó He leaned in,
licking her cheek, near her ear.
ÒIÕm going to love getting you when weÕve learned what we need to. If youÕre conscious when we get you,
IÕll make sure you know itÕs me.Ó
She
didnÕt have to ask what he meant by Ògetting.Ó The looks on the other menÕs faces made
it clear. She felt a pit of terror
form in her stomach.
Roger
was not coming for her. The Vulcan
was her only hope.
A man sheÕd never met, even if he did seem familiar. A man whoÕd run off and left her.
She
did what sheÕd always done to get out of a jam. She gave the man holding her wrist her
best smile and tried not to be too obvious about batting her eyelashes. Then she started telling him everything
she knew about the program she was in.
Maybe if she made it clear she wasnÕt hiding anything, they wouldnÕt
torture her?
Torture? What the hell kind of place was this
where a scientist—a student, for GodÕs sake—had to worry about torture?
He
laughed. ÒSheÕll be an easy
one. Who knew Starfleet bred them
so weak?Ó
Why
did they keep saying she was Starfleet?
And
why did her hackles go up when he called her weak? She wasnÕt brave, never had been. She got where she was by being smart,
not strong. And having good legs
and a nice smile.
She
looked down at her clothing. Dark
red jacket. Not her usual
style. Not a color Roger liked her
to wear. Red was too...showy. Trying too hard.
She
touched her black pants with her good hand, could tell she was wearing ankle
boots, not the cute little flats she preferred. Why was she wearing this outfit?
The
flitter landed at some kind of camp, and she was jerked out of it and taken to
a tent. There were instruments on a
tray—instruments that did not look pleasant.
The
man in charge leaned in. ÒIÕll ask
you one time nicely, Commander.
WeÕll start with an easy question.
Where are the leaders of the opposition camped?Ó
ÒI
donÕt know what youÕre talk—Ó
He
slammed his fist into her face. She
fell to her knees, her bad leg giving out as she went; she could hear something
crack, could taste blood in her mouth.
Her vision went dark.
ÒJust
to be clear: that was me asking nicely.Ó
Two
men picked her up and hauled her to her feet, holding her in place. She began to tremble.
ÒNow,
letÕs try this another way.Ó
##
It
took him nine point four hours, but Spock finally made it to the makeshift
headquarters their team had set up and was immediately spotted by Lieutenant
Commander Watkins, ChristineÕs deputy on the mission.
ÒSir? WeÕve been trying to raise you.Ó
ÒOur
flitter was shot down by some kind of pulse weapon. Our communicators were damaged as well.Ó
Watkins
gave him a searching look. ÒAnd
Commander Chapel?Ó
ÒHas
been captured.Ó
Watkins
went very pale. ÒSir, she would
never have let that happen if she was conscious. Did you leave her there uncon—Ó
ÒShe
was conscious, and she made it very clear she could not be left behind for them
to torture. We came to a
compromise—I took her memories from her. Temporarily. She can give them nothing.Ó
ÒBut
they will try.Ó Watkins looked
slightly sick at the thought.
ÒYes. We must rescue her before they realize
what IÕve done and kill her.Ó Once
they knew Christine was of no use to them, Spock imagined they would be done
with her. If their knowledge of
Vulcan psi abilities was limited, Christine would have more time.
Spock
found himself hoping that was the case.
Hope was illogical in the extreme, but he did not feel like calculating
the odds against her survival.
He
was tired of losing people.
ÒWe
may have a way to help in getting her back.Ó Watkins motioned him over to an
out-of-the-way supply tent and retrieved a carrying case. He put his thumb over the identifier,
and the case lid snapped open. Pulling
out some type of controller, he fiddled with the settings for a moment, then
put it around his wrist. ÒWe were
supposed to field test these here.
But we realized early on it was too volatile an environment to risk
using them. If either side got this
tech...Ó He touched the controller
and suddenly disappeared.
ÒA
personal cloaking device?Ó Spock
had thought they were still theoretical at best.
ÒYes,
sir.Ó Watkins reappeared.
ÒAnd
Commander Chapel knew about this.Ó He
had not seen it in her memories—heÕd been going too fast, had not had
time to look at details.
ÒShe
and I were to test the two prototypes.
She was a driving force behind this, sir. SheÕs been at Ops a long time, lost a
lot of people she cared for.Ó
Spock
suddenly understood why sheÕd gone so quickly to a solution where he had to
kill her to keep what she knew safe.
ÒThis would, indeed, turn the tide of the war.Ó
ÒYes.Ó
ÒIt
will also, if it works, allow us to find and retrieve her.Ó
ÒYes,
sir. And IÕve been in enough
controlled tests in the lab to believe it will work.Ó
Spock
nodded. ÒI take it Doctor Chapel
did not have the other unit with her?Ó
ÒNo,
sir, itÕs right here. Ò
ÒWhen
can we leave?Ó
ÒNow
would be good if youÕre up to it.Ó
ÒI
am.Ó
Watkins
handed him the second controller, and showed him how to program it.
Spock
felt an unpleasant tingle as the thing engaged. Watkins smiled and said, ÒLike you
arenÕt even there, sir.Ó
Spock
turned the device off. ÒIt will
take us some time to walk. Can this
cloak be extended to a flitter?Ó
ÒUnfortunately
no. But no reason we canÕt ride most
of the way. IÕm a good pilot when
it comes to skimming dirt and staying off tracking systems.Ó
Spock
decided not to ask about that. Some
things it was better not to know.
He
notified his diplomatic crew of what had transpired, left them with clear
orders to inform Starfleet and to suspend operations and get off the planet as
soon as Starfleet sent a ship.
Watkins
passed command on as well, then joined Spock, handing him a phaser and leading
him to the flitters.
ÒSir,
this may get ugly. Are you sure you
donÕt want to sit this one out?Ó
ÒShe
will not know you, Watkins. She
will know me. And I may be a Vulcan,
but you will find I am not unfamiliar with fighting.Ó
ÒYou
like her, donÕt you?Ó Watkins
grinned. A sunny expression that
reminded Spock of some hybrid of Jim and Leonard.
He
could have told Watkins that a personal relationship was not driving his
actions. He could have told him he was
only looking out for an officer that had been under his command when she was
taken. Instead, he simply said,
ÒYes.Ó
ÒMe,
too, Ambassador. LetÕs go make like
the cavalry, then.Ó
Spock
was marginally familiar with the reference. It didnÕt matter: he liked the manÕs
attitude.
Although
he did suddenly wonder about the nature of WatkinsÕ relationship with
Christine.
##
Christine
woke to agony. And the feeling of a
gentle hand on her shoulder. She
looked up, saw that the Vulcan was back.
Another man shimmered into existence, a human this time.
ÒOh,
Commander.Ó He looked horrified.
She
knew it was at what the men had done to her. The only reason she was still alive was
because they wanted another round with her. The man who had licked her had told her
that—and that heÕd won the draw on who would get to kill her when this
was all over. HeÕd said theyÕd
leave her body where her people would find it.
Her
people? What people? She wasnÕt Starfleet.
The
human, who was dressed as she was in red and black, began to work with a regenerator
and she tried to get away from him.
The movement made every part of her body pulse in torment. ÒDonÕt hurt me.Ó
ÒChristine,
I wouldnÕt.Ó The human reached for
her face, and she shied back.
ÒDonÕt
touch me.Ó
ÒChristine.Ó The Vulcan leaned in and met her
eyes. He began talking to her
softly, and she could barely make out the words, but he seemed to be saying
that everything would be all right, that he would help her, that she did not
have to be afraid.
ÒYou
donÕt know what they did to me,Ó she managed to get out.
ÒI
regret what they did to you.Ó He
moved very slowly, finally settling his fingers on her face, making her flinch
but not pull way. ÒTrust me,
Christine.Ó
She
did. She didnÕt know why, but she
did.
He
pushed a little harder, there was a tingle in her head.
What
was he doing? It felt so strange to
have him in her mind, another violation after what those men had done to her.
Those
men? What men? Why did she hurt so badly?
ÒWhereÕs
Roger?Ó she asked the two men sheÕd never met. Only the Vulcan looked familiar, but she
had no idea why. He wasnÕt from
campus; sheÕd remember him.
ÒI
am Spock. Roger sent us to get
you. You have been injured.Ó
She
thought his hands were shaking as he helped her up. But that was silly. Why would a VulcanÕs hands shake?
ÒIÕm
Saul Watkins.Ó The human gave her a
smile that she thought was the kind of expression that hid something
darker.
ÒWhatÕs
wrong?Ó
ÒNot
a thing, Christine. WeÕre going to
get you home.Ó
Home. To Roger. To campus. To the lab.
ÒWhere
the hell am I?Ó
ÒHell
is a good enough answer,Ó Watkins said.
She realized he was using a medical regenerator on her. Why?
Why
was there all this blood on her?
Why
did she hurt so much everywhere?
Including...down there?
Watkins took something off his wrist, put it gently around hers. ÒYou take her, Ambassador. YouÕre stronger, and IÕm as good at
eluding detection on foot as I am in a flitter.Ó
ÒSomeday
I will have to look into the various skills required of an Ops officer.Ó
Watkins
glanced at her, the back at Spock.
ÒIf youÕre going to try to put her back together, youÕll see, wonÕt
you? She has most of them.Ó
ÒWhat
are you two talking about?Ó She
groaned as Spock helped her sit up, then felt her head spin and was afraid
sheÕd black out.
ÒSteady,Ó
Watkins said. ÒLet me show you how
to use this, Christine. You tell me
if anything doesnÕt make sense, all right?Ó
ÒAre
we friends? You sound like you
think weÕre friends.Ó
He
put his hand on her cheek. ÒWe
are. You just donÕt remember. WeÕve been working together a long
time. WeÕre very good friends.Ó
ÒDoes
Roger know? He gets jealous.Ó
ÒNot
that kind of friend, Christine.Ó
Watkins glanced at Spock.
ÒThis one, however...Ó
She
looked at the Vulcan. ÒWhat does he
mean?Ó
ÒNothing. Please let him show you how to work the
controller. You are a
scientist. This should be easy for
you.Ó
ÒOf
course itÕll be easy for me.Ó She
shot him her most affronted glance.
It was a controller—how hard could it be?
Once
Watkins finished explaining, Spock lifted her into his arms. Really? He was going to carry her? Had she slept through a one-night stand
with this guy? Had she tried that
new drug Carrie was always going on about?
ÒChristine,
please relax. You cannot walk right
now due to your injuries. I will
explain it all.Ó When she did not
relax, he said, ÒOr Roger will.
Please turn on your controller the way Commander Watkins showed you.Ó
The
tingle that went through her when she turned it on surprised her. Then Watkins reached for SpockÕs
controller and turned it on, and Spock disappeared.
ÒWhat
is this tech? This is
fascinating. How does it
work?Ó She tried to reach for her
controller, which she could still see—interesting to create something
that could let the wearer still see it but be invisible otherwise. She heard Spock say, ÒChristine, I
cannot see you. If I drop you, I
will not be able to find you easily.
Please stay still. We can
talk about the tech later.Ó
Watkins laughed. ÒShe seems pretty
much the same to me.Ó He smiled at
them, but in the sort of unfocused way that let Christine know he could no
longer see them. ÒGo on. IÕm going to head out the other
way. IÕll meet you at the flitter
in no more than an hour.Ó
Spock
didnÕt bother to say anything other than, ÒAffirmative.Ó Then he started moving and whispered to
her, ÒChristine, it is imperative that you not make a sound, no matter what, do
you understand?Ó
ÒI
do,Ó she whispered back.
It
was a hard promise to keep. Every
step he took jolted something that hurt, and she bit back moans and tried to
just anticipate the pain as he walked.
It
didnÕt help much. Finally, she saw
a flitter come into view. Watkins
was already there.
ÒChristine,
turn off your cloaking device.Ó
ÒIs that what this is called? IÕd
have thought it would have an acronym.
Like P.I.D. Personal
invisibility device.Ó
ÒChristine,
please. You are heavier than I
anticipated.Ó
ÒAre
you calling me fat?Ó Although she had seemed to gain weight. What was going on?
ÒPlease,
the device?Ó
She
turned it off, and Watkins smiled and hurried over. ÒAllow me, sir.Ó
Spock
handed her off and then reappeared.
ÒMy staff should have called Command by now. A ship should be en route.Ó
ÒA
ship?Ó Watkins asked.
ÒThese
people are not ready for us. My
team is leaving. What your team
chooses to do is up to you and your superiors. But I am taking Christine with me.Ó
ÒI
have a feeling weÕll be bugging out, too.Ó
ÒThen
I suggest we get back to camp, in your own inimitable way, dusty as it may
prove to be.Ó
Watkins
laughed, then carried her to the flitter and strapped her into a seat behind
the pilotÕs seat. He put a filter
mask over her face. ÒI tend to fly
low. Raises some dirt.Ó
ÒWhere
are you taking me? To Roger?Ó Spock hadnÕt sounded like that was what
he meant.
Spock
nodded, then took another mask from Watkins and climbed in behind her. ÒPlease try to rest, Christine. You donÕt remember it, but you have been
through a great deal.Ó
ÒIÕm
bleeding. And I hurt.Ó
ÒI
know. And I am sorry.Ó
ÒIs
it your fault?Ó
ÒYes,
ultimately it is. I asked you to
come on this mission.Ó
ÒMission?Ó
He
sighed. ÒField trip.Ó
ÒOh. Okay.Ó She was so tired. Why was she so tired? Why couldnÕt she remember anything about
why she was injured?
She
felt SpockÕs hand on her hair as Watkins slipped on his mask and turned the
flitter on. ÒSleep, Christine.Ó SpockÕs voice was so gentle—were
Vulcans supposed to sound that way?
She
leaned back in the seat, closed her eyes against the cloud of dust that rose as
their little ship did, and fell asleep.
##
Spock
watched as the Emergency Ops doctor took Christine into a tent to work on her. Other officers from her staff and his
served as a security perimeter.
Spock had stopped short of telling them to shoot anyone who approached,
and by WatkinsÕ smile, he thought the other man knew heÕd been considering it.
ÒHell
of a day, eh, Ambassador?Ó
ÒYes,
Commander. It is indeed.Ó He left Watkins to oversee the packing
up of their camp and went to check on Christine.
The
doctor motioned for him to stay outside the tent and joined him. ÒWhat did you do to her?Ó
ÒI
told you when you unloaded her from the flitter. I took her memory.Ó
ÒI
thought you meant like amnesia. She
thinks sheÕs in her twenties.Ó
ÒIt
seemed safer for her to leave something that our attackers could work
with. If she was a blank slate,
they might have just killed her outright.Ó
ÒI
guess that makes sense. They nearly
did kill her outright, sir. She
started to hemorrhage internally, but we stopped it. Her leg and wrist were broken from the
crash, you said?Ó
Spock
nodded. ÒAnd one of the head wounds
is from that.Ó
ÒThe
rest, though. And sir, they raped
her. Repeatedly.Ó
Spock
nodded. He had known the minute she
flinched away from him that they had.
The fear in her eyes had been very specific. ÒI would like to take her to Vulcan to
heal. With tri-ox, will she be
sufficiently protected?Ó
ÒI
wouldnÕt suggest Vulcan, sir. SheÕs
going to need to talk to counselors about this, in my opinion. That on top of the adjustment issues to
the environment...Ó
ÒThen
I will take her to Earth.Ó
ÒThat
would be best, sir. Home is often
the best place to heal.Ó
Spock
nodded. He would have preferred
having the buffer of Vulcan between her and anyone from Starfleet, but it was
unavoidable. And truth to tell, she
wouldnÕt care—it was he who was feeling this...anger inside. Anger that they had been allowed to come
to a planet that Starfleet surely knew was not ready for them. Anger that Jim had been urged to attend
a launch he had no desire to go to.
Anger that other friends were so far away—Mister Scott lost with
the Jenolan, Leonard off on some
relief mission at the far end of the quadrant, Nyota on a training cruise with
cadets, Sulu on his ship.
Why
was he alone? Was that why he had
dragged Christine into this? It had
made sense, heÕd thought, when heÕd approached her with the idea but looking
back, had it been only so he would not be alone?
Spock
saw a member of his staff approaching, excused himself from the doctor.
ÒSir,
the Sinclair was nearby when we commed Command and is in orbit now. TheyÕre ready to beam us up. A transport is coming for the
flitters. Commander Watkins said
heÕll stay with a detail until everything is off planet.Ó
ÒVery
good. Have them beam Commander
Chapel and the medical staff up first.Ó
ÒYes,
sir.Ó
The
amber smell of the planet filled his nose as he breathed in. He was rapidly beginning to despise the
scent. Would his incense bother him
as much? It, too, was amber-based.
What
did it matter? Meditating was not
helping his anger—or would not, he had not had a chance to try yet. But he knew himself after all these
years. He knew when his emotions were
in control, and no matter how he might appear to those watching, his emotions
were most definitely driving him right now.
Why
else would he want to protect Christine to such an extent? Why else would he feel such anger at
everyone, including himself—possibly most of all himself—for
leaving her?
Even if it had been the logical thing to do.
##
Christine
woke up in what seemed like a hospital.
She looked around, saw no one she knew and tried to figure out where the
hell she was.
HadnÕt
she been going to meet Roger for lunch?
She heard someone say, ÒSheÕs awake, sir,Ó into a comm
panel on the wall and then the woman—a nurse, maybe—came over. ÒHow are you feeling, Commander?Ó
Before
she could answer, someone said, ÒThat will be all, Nurse.Ó That voice—she knew it.
Christine
turned her head, saw that Spock was standing in the doorway. As the woman walked away and he came
toward her, she said, ÒWhy is everyone calling me ÔCommanderÕ?Ó
ÒIt
will all make sense eventually.Ó He
pulled a stool over and sat down next to her. ÒHow are you feeling?Ó
ÒIÕm
in pain. Was I in an
accident?Ó And if so, how the hell
did she get hurt in her private bits?
Because it was really embarrassing having those parts regenerated. Thank God for female doctors.
ÒYou
were. But other things also
occurred.Ó He looked away.
ÒLook,
I donÕt have any Vulcan friendsÓ—did Vulcans have friends? ÒBut IÕve been in class with some, and
you guys are normally really specific.Ó
She saw his expression change.
Why was he so easy to read?
The Vulcans in her classes sure werenÕt. ÒÔOther thingsÕ doesnÕt cut it as an
explanation. WhatÕs going on?Ó
ÒDo
you trust me?Ó
ÒI
do. I donÕt have the faintest idea
why I do, but I do.Ó
ÒThen
trust that you will understand all of this in time. I promise that you are safe and that I
will not leave you.Ó
She
frowned. ÒYouÕre intense, you know
that? Also, did Roger really send
you? Because he probably wouldnÕt
like how ummm friendly you act around me.Ó
ÒChristine,
please, let this rest. You will
understand everything, I promise you.Ó
ÒCan I at least get up?Ó
ÒIt
is not advised. You are still
healing.Ó
ÒWhere
are we?Ó
ÒThe
Scimitar. It is a transport ship.Ó
ÒIÕm
in space?Ó Her voice cracked in a
funny way, and she tried to sit up but pain forced her back down. ÒIÕve never been off Earth. What am I doing in space?Ó
He
started to open his mouth, and she said, ÒFine, fine, IÕll wait. I can tell thatÕs what youÕre going to
say.Ó
He
got up, and she grabbed his hand, startled at how warm his skin was.
ÒPlease...can
you stay with me? IÕm supposed to
be in Cambridge and instead IÕm on a ship IÕve never heard of with people IÕve
never met. I donÕt know why, but
youÕre the only person who seems the least bit familiar. Talk to me?Ó
He
sat back down. ÒI can do that.Ó
ÒWe
could talk about science. ThatÕs
safe, right? I mean, IÕm assuming
youÕre a scientist. Most Vulcans
IÕve met are.Ó
ÒI
am a scientist.Ó
ÒIs
that how you met Roger?Ó
Something
in his expression shifted.
ÒHave you met Roger. Really?Ó
He
met her eyes. ÒNo. But I am taking you home.Ó
ÒYou
look at me so strangely.Ó She tried
to make her eyes as hard as she could.
ÒYou donÕt have a crush on me, do you? Because IÕm with Roger.Ó
He
didnÕt answer.
ÒDo
you?Ó
ÒOur
relationship is complicated, Christine?Ó
ÒHave
we had sex?Ó
ÒNo.Ó
She
laughed. ÒThen how complicated can
it be?Ó
He
nodded as if she made a good point.
ÒAre
we friends?Ó
He
seemed to have to think about that before he said, ÒYes.Ó
She
shifted slightly, something felt off about her body. And not just that it was beat to
shit. ÒIf I asked you for a mirror,
would you let me have one?Ó
ÒNo.Ó No hesitation there.
She
pulled her hair till she got a strand in view. ÒI thought this was dark—and a
hell of a lot shorter—because of the blood and dirt. But itÕs not, is it. IÕm a brunette?Ó
ÒChristine,
please.Ó
ÒSpock,
I can tell IÕm a lot heavier than I should be. My hair is too short and the wrong
color. What else is
different?Ó She tried to sit up,
was again stopped by the pain. ÒI
want to talk to Roger.Ó
ÒSoon.Ó
ÒSoon
as in five minutes from now or soon as in Ôhumor the sick woman but really
neverÕ?Ó
He
sighed—she didnÕt know Vulcans did that. ÒYou are far too intelligent.Ó
ÒYeah,
thatÕs the story of my life. What
the hell is going on?Ó
ÒIf
I tell you the truth, do you promise to relax?Ó
She
nodded.
ÒThe
year is 2294. You and I serve in
Starfleet. I took your memory for a
very good reason and with your permission.
I plan to restore your memory once we get to Earth, but you need to heal
first.Ó
ÒWhy
not restore it now?Ó
ÒYour
body has been through extreme trauma.
Once I add the memories of what happened to you...Ó
ÒYou
think I might not be able to handle it?Ó
ÒI
think it best to let your body heal before inflicting reality on your mind.Ó
She
looked down, considered all the ways she hurt. ÒWas I raped?Ó
ÒYes.Ó
ÒDid
you rape me?Ó
ÒNo. Why would you ask that?Ó He looked slightly stunned.
ÒYou
look so guilty some of the time.Ó
ÒI
left you. It was logical to do so
but I am...Ó
ÒAshamed?Ó
He
nodded.
She
took his hand, felt him squeeze back.
ÒAre we lovers?Ó
ÒWe are not.Ó
ÒWhy
arenÕt we? You clearly care about
me.Ó
He made a strange sound and she realized it just might be a strangled
laugh. ÒYou see things so clearly
at this age, Christine.Ó
ÒDo
I stop seeing things clearly?Ó
ÒSometimes
past rejections obscure clarity of vision.Ó
She frowned. ÒMeaning you were an
ass to me?Ó She let go of his
hand. ÒWhat about Roger. I love him.Ó
ÒYes,
you do. It is...complicated.Ó
ÒThat
word means a lot of things to you, doesnÕt it?Ó She was feeling very tired and
overwhelmed. She tried to bite back
a yawn.
ÒChristine,
do not fight sleep. You need it.Ó
ÒIs
Roger dead?Ó
He
nodded slowly.
ÒWere
we ever happy, he and I?Ó
ÒYes,Ó he said, but she thought by his expression that he really didnÕt know
that. He stood, laid his hand on
her forehead, and said, ÒGo to sleep.
We will reach Earth tomorrow.Ó
ÒAm
I happy? IÕm heavier, brunette, and
you were an ass to me. Will I be a
happy person when you restore my memories?Ó
ÒYou
are accomplished.Ó
ÒThat
sounds empty. Are you going to be
there for me?Ó
It
took him a long time to nod.
She
looked away. ÒThis isnÕt what I
planned for my life. How the hell
did I end up in Starfleet?Ó
ÒIt
is c—Ó
ÒOf
course. Complicated. I get it. Just go, Spock.Ó
He
left.
She
pulled her hair again so she could see it, ran her hand down unfamiliar curves,
studied her hand—the skin was a little crepey. How old was she?
She
fell asleep before she could think much more about it.
##
Spock
stood with Watkins in Admiral KashoÕs office. Christine was safely ensconced in a
private room at Starfleet Medical.
She was under round-the-clock guard, and Spock was not sure if that was
for her protection or StarfleetÕs while they tried to determine what she had
told the Mallutians. At least they werenÕt trying to keep him
out of her room.
ÒDo
you two have any idea what you risked rescuing Commander Chapel? She was willing to die to keep the
cloaking tech out of the hands of either side on the Mallutian
conflict, and you two yahoos romped right into their camp with both of the prototypes?Ó
Spock
did not answer. He had no
defense. It was an emotional
decision to risk the technology and rescue Christine. He would do it again. He would not, however, tell the admiral
that.
Watkins,
too, stood mute.
ÒNothing? You two have nothing to say for
yourselves?Ó
ÒSheÕs
my friend, sir.Ó Watkins glanced at
Spock. ÒIt was my idea.Ó
ÒIt
was not his idea, sir. Rescuing
Commander Chapel was solely my idea.Ó
ÒBut
I knew about the tech, Spock didnÕt.Ó
ÒOh,
quit covering for each other. IÕm
fond of Christine. I get why you
did it. But damn it all, it was so
fucking stupid.Ó He took a deep
breath and leaned back in his chair.
ÒAt ease, you two, before you break something. Jesus.Ó
Spock
relaxed slightly. Watkins relaxed
barely more.
ÒIÕd
put a reprimand in your goddamn files but since the techÕs very existence is
incendiary, I donÕt want to even mention that there was something that
important being tested on a diplomatic mission. Consider yourselves lucky, gentlemen. Dismissed.Ó
They
left the office, and Watkins turned as soon as they were clear of KashoÕs
corridor. ÒWhew. Dodged a bullet with that.Ó
ÒAs
I presume you expected.Ó
ÒDid
occur to me.Ó The man grinned, and
motioned for Spock to walk with him.
ÒHowÕs Christine doing?Ó
ÒHer
physical injuries are nearly completely healed. I had to tell her the truth.Ó
ÒOh,
boy. I bet even twenty-something
Chapel is a bitch when sheÕs mad.Ó
ÒShe
is more perplexed, I think.Ó Spock
stopped. ÒI need to ask you
something, Saul.Ó
WatkinsÕ
eyes rose. ÒWhoa, pull out the big
guns with my first name. This must
be important.Ó He grinned
again. ÒBefore you even ask, no IÕm
not with her. IÕm her friend, and
believe me, IÕve heard about you.
Usually after way too many drinks.Ó
ÒYou
are certain you are not interested?
I do not wish to impose.Ó
Watkins laughed. ÒIÕm sure. YouÕre more my type than she is.Ó
ÒAh. Then I will cease to worry that I am
treading on claimed territory.Ó
ÒHow
Vulcan of you.Ó Watkins shook his
head. ÒFor all your logic, you
Vulcans see things in very primitive terms when it comes to sex.Ó
ÒI
am not going to discuss this with you.Ó
ÒNo? You going to discuss this with my
boss? Cuz
Christine junior may still be in love with Roger, but the one I know, well,
sheÕs sort of hooked on you.Ó He
winked.
ÒI
find that thought comforting.Ó
ÒYou
sure have thrown logic down the toilet when it comes to her.Ó He stopped walking when they reached the
entrance to Emergency Ops. ÒWell,
this is me. Home sweet home. We miss her. Get her back to us, sir.Ó
ÒCall
me Spock.Ó
ÒThank
you. IÕd say call me Saul, but you
already did that when you were intent on buttering me up. Diplomats.Ó He shook his head as if it was a dirty
word, then walked into Ops.
Spock
walked back to Medical, found a different guard in front of ChristineÕs door. For a moment, he thought the guard was
going to try to stop him from going in.
Then
the guard took a good look at his eyes and moved aside.
ÒMost
wise,Ó Spock murmured.
ÒSheÕs
not supposed to have visitors.Ó
ÒUnder
whose orders?Ó
ÒAdmiral
KashoÕs.Ó
ÒHe
did not mean to include me in that order.Ó
ÒI
think he did, sir.Ó
Spock
realized the guard hadnÕt moved aside to give him room, but to get out of
range. A phaser was now pointing at
him. ÒIÕm going to have to ask you
to leave, Ambassador.Ó
Spock
hit his communicator. ÒSpock to
Admiral Kasho.Ó
ÒAh,
got to her room, did you? Consider
this your reprimand.Ó
ÒDuly
noted. She does not deserve
this. I am the best person to
restore her memories.Ó
ÒMaybe
so. However, we have not determined
that is the best course for her at this time.Ó
Spock felt his mouth tighten. He
walked away from the guard, out of earshot. ÒAdmiral, I am going to share something
with you that I normally would not.
I lost my best friend, as I think you know, and you denied me a ship
when I asked to go look for him after the search teams had given up. I lost a colleague I esteemed greatly who
thought he was finally retiring to enjoy Ôthe good lifeÕ as he put it at his
retirement function. You do not want to make me lose another person
I care about.Ó
ÒWhat
do you think you can do about it?Ó
There was something in KashoÕs voice—a tiny note of uncertainty.
ÒAre
you willing to find out? I am most
inventive. I am sure I can think of
several things that would embarrass Starfleet and end your career on an
extremely sour note. And if I
cannot think of anything, perhaps my father might have an idea.Ó He moved back toward the guard. ÒNow, tell your man that I am allowed in
the room.Ó
There
was a long silence. Then Kasho said,
ÒSpock may have access to Commander Chapel.Ó
ÒYes,
sir.Ó The guard stepped aside.
Spock
walked into ChristineÕs room. She
was asleep. Excellent. He imagined the room was bugged, so he pulled
out a private communicator and keyed in a message to his father, who was on
Earth at the embassy. ÒNeed ship to
Vulcan. Cannot explain right
now. Please trust me. Is this possible?Ó
It
took a few minutes, but a reply came that said only, ÒYes. When?Ó
He
keyed in: ÒNow would be preferable.
However, I understand if that is not feasible.Ó
ÒI
can have one ready in thirty minutes.Ó
ÒCan
you beam us directly to it?Ó
ÒUs?Ó
ÒChristine
Chapel and I will be traveling to Vulcan.Ó
There
was a very long pause before the next message popped onto his screen. ÒYou are at Starfleet Medical?Ó His father must have checked where he
was comming from.
ÒYes. Is that a problem?Ó
ÒIrregular
but not a problem. I will be in contact
when ready to beam you over.Ó
His
father would be readying the diplomatic transport he used on official missions. It was, like the embassy, Vulcan
territory, and the only ship with transporter capabilities in the small fleet the
embassy kept on Earth.
Spock
keyed in one more thing. ÒWe will
need tri-ox.Ó
ÒYour
mother has a supply on board the ship.Ó
Then the transmission ended.
Spock
sat down next to ChristineÕs bed.
ÒI am not willing to let Starfleet decide your fate,Ó he said softly in
Vulcan. ÒYou may be very angry with
me when you find that out.Ó He
touched her hair as gently as he could.
ÒIt might be kinder to let you stay as you are now.Ó
But
the kind thing was not necessarily the right thing. Not that he was concerned with the right
thing completely, or he would leave Christine where Starfleet Command wanted
her. He knew they would eventually
give her back her memories, but they might not let him do it, and he did not
want to think of the damage that could be caused by someone who had not cut the
ties in the first place trying to repair them.
And,
if he was honest, on a personal level, he was not interested in leaving
Christine behind. Whether it was
the Christine he knew or this younger version, he was drawn to her for many
reasons right now.
He
would explore that. Provided he did
not destroy her when he tried to put her back to rights.
##
Christine
woke in what looked like another spaceship. At least this time, she was sitting up
in the copilotÕs seat rather than strapped down to a gurney. ÒGuess IÕm getting better if youÕre
letting me sit up like a normal human being.Ó She stretched gingerly, was pleased to
feel no intense pain, just some minor aches. ÒI feel better.Ó
ÒThat
is excellent news.Ó He didnÕt sound
pleased; he sounded harried.
ÒIs
there a reason you look so tense?Ó
ÒI
am trying to clear EarthÕs defense shields and tractor array before Starfleet
Medical realizes you are gone and notifies Starfleet Command.Ó
ÒSo
you...kidnapped me?Ó
ÒIn
a sense. It is—Ó
ÒNo,
no, let me. Could it be complicated?Ó She rolled her eyes.
ÒIt
is possible I should endeavor to find a new word.Ó
ÒItÕs
more than possible, toots.Ó She
leaned back. ÒSo where are we
going?Ó
ÒVulcan.Ó
ÒAlways
wanted to go to a place where IÕll stand out like a sore thumb and wonÕt be
able to breathe easily.Ó
Her
words seemed to spur him into action.
He reached behind his seat and pulled out a small carryall. ÒInside youÕll find some tri-ox. It will help you acclimate to
Vulcan. Take the first shot in five
hours.Ó
ÒMan,
youÕre imperious. Do this, do
that. Making decisions for my life
without even asking me.Ó
ÒI
have been told that before. Not by
you, however.Ó
ÒWell,
just in case the other people didnÕt make it clear: itÕs a criticism. They werenÕt lauding you for saving time
by being unilateral.Ó
ÒUnderstood.Ó He turned to her. ÒAre you hungry?Ó
ÒIÕm
always hungry. Do you have things
besides hospital food? I am so sick
of that.Ó
ÒWe
have many delicacies. My mother
likes to keep this ship stocked with her favorites.Ó
ÒVulcan
stuff, I suppose?Ó
He
looked almost amused as he said, ÒMy mother is human.Ó
ÒWow. HowÕd that come about?Ó
ÒMy
father said it was the logical thing do to.Ó
ÒHmmm.Ó She thought about the way Spock looked
at her: it didnÕt look like simply logical interest. ÒI think thatÕs a load of crap, myself. IÕll bet heÕs madly in love with your
mother.Ó
ÒYou
are no doubt correct.Ó
ÒAnd
youÕre willing to admit it? Why do
I think this is a first?Ó
His
lips ticked up. ÒProbably because
it is. Please, go help yourself to
whatever you like from the galley.
And if you see any Andorian peanuts, can you
bring me some?Ó
ÒI
hate those things. TheyÕre so
bitter.Ó
ÒThey
are an acquired taste.Ó
ÒIf
you say so.Ó She walked into the
galley, found the peanuts, and brought him a bowl full.
ÒTry
one. These are the best available.Ó
She
took a gingerly bite, then made a face.
ÒGod damn it, Spock. Did you
do that on purpose? These are
horrible.Ó
He
happily munched on the peanuts. He
obviously liked them lots.
No
accounting for taste.
There
was a pinging sound and Spock hit a button. A screen lit up, the face of an older
Vulcan filling it. ÒMy son,
Starfleet Command is not pleased with you.Ó
ÒAs I predicted, Father.Ó
ÒI
told them you were operating with my blessing. That will hold them for the time being.Ó He seemed to see her standing behind
Spock. ÒChristine?Ó
ÒOh. Do I know you?Ó
ÒYou
do. You just do not remember. I am Sarek.Ó His voice grew noticeably friendlier
when he spoke to her than Spock.
She suddenly felt bad for Spock.
ÒYour
son is helping me.Ó She wasnÕt one
hundred percent sure of that, but solidarity seemed called for.
ÒI
am aware of that, Christine. I just
felt it prudent he know the way things stand. He risks much.Ó
ÒFather, did you not ask Jim to risk much simply to return my katra to
Vulcan? How much more than a katra
is at stake here?Ó
Sarek
nodded. ÒAs you say.Ó
She
had no idea what they were talking about.
But SpockÕs father finally sounded gentle with him. ÒIs there something I can do? Someone I can talk to that will make
this better for Spock?Ó
SarekÕs
eyes grew very gentle. ÒNo,
Christine. Just let Spock help
you.Ó
ÒYou
know, the whole cryptic thing is really overrated.Ó
SarekÕs
lips moved every so slightly. She
amused him? ÒI must go. Safe travels, my son. Christine.Ó The screen went dead.
ÒWe
are fortunate he thinks so highly of you,Ó Spock said.
ÒHe
thinks highly of you. You just
annoy him.Ó At SpockÕs look, she
laughed, but it was a bitter sound.
ÒTrust me. IÕm sort of
a...connoisseur of family dynamics.Ó
ÒExplain.Ó
ÒMy
mom left when I was a baby. My dad,
well, he wasnÕt cut out to be a dad.
He dropped me off with his parents—who were the primary reason he
wasnÕt cut out to be a dad, because they never were there for him in any loving
kind of way—and split. I was
stuck with them. Unwanted. Unloved. Cared for, though, in terms of the basic
necessities. No one ever would have
considered me neglected, you know?Ó
He
nodded, but she didnÕt think he really understood.
ÒI
sort of...collected other families.
Picked the friends IÕd spend the most time with based on their moms and
dads, how nice they were to me, how warm the household was. I can pick out a lot of things just by
how people talk to each other—and I can tell that you and your dad donÕt
get along. But I can also tell he
loves you—and you love him.
You two just donÕt understand each other, do you?Ó
He
turned and stared at her. ÒYou
ascertained all that from a two minute conversation?Ó
ÒI
told you. When you donÕt have
things, you learn to recognize them.Ó
ÒFascinating.Ó
ÒHe
seems to care about me.Ó
ÒHe
does. He once came to Earth to
testify on a friend of mineÕs behalf because you asked him to.Ó
ÒWas
it the Jim you mentioned?Ó
Again
he shot her a surprised look.
ÒYes.Ó
ÒMentioning
him shut your dad up—and changed his tone. Jim is important, isnÕt he?Ó
ÒJim
was very important. To you, too,
although you left his orbit much earlier than I did.Ó
ÒWas
not is important?Ó
ÒHe
died not long ago.Ó
ÒOh. IÕm sorry.Ó She studied his face, saw a trace of
sadness—or was it anger? ÒThereÕs
a mirror in the bathroom. I snuck a
look. ItÕs been what? Thirty years from what I remember right
now?Ó
ÒApproximately,
yes.Ó
ÒSo
IÕve forgotten more time than IÕve actually lived.Ó She shook her head. ÒCan you really get that back?Ó
ÒI
believe so.Ó
ÒWhat
will happen to me if you canÕt? I
mean, assuming IÕm not a vegetable?Ó
He
shook his head. ÒYou will have what
most people never do. A chance to
relive your life.Ó
ÒWith
an old damn body.Ó She laughed,
again the bitter laugh. Roger would
hate that sound: he liked her light and happy—and sweet. She did not think Spock cared if she was
sweet or not. ÒAt least IÕm
smart. Provided you donÕt go and
mess that up with whatever youÕre going to do.Ó
ÒI
will endeavor not to. I would like
the old you back.Ó
ÒWhy?Ó She met and held his eyes
with her own, knew the look was different than her normal flirting, that this
was very serious, but she wasnÕt sure precisely why.
ÒBecause
I care for you.Ó
ÒWill
I remember that you told me this?Ó
ÒThere
is no reason to believe it would be lost in the process.Ó
She
narrowed her eyes. Something about
that answer struck her as an evasion.
ÒWhat arenÕt you saying?Ó
ÒI
took away what happened to you, Christine, because it was easier for you to
heal without it. The older you may
not want it, either.Ó
ÒAnd
then she would forget this, too, because I came after that thing you wonÕt let
me remember?Ó
ÒYes.Ó
ÒOh.Ó She put the food aside, no longer
hungry. ÒSo IÕm just
temporary. IÕm just...a bandage?Ó
ÒIt
is very possible she will choose to have her memories. She rarely chooses an easy path.Ó
ÒShe. Me.
But weÕre both Christine Chapel.Ó
ÒYes.Ó
ÒTell
me what happened to Roger.Ó
ÒHe
loved you. Right up to his death.Ó
ÒThat
is the least Vulcan thing you could say, I think. It must have been really bad, huh?Ó She got up and walked to the
galley. ÒDo you want something to
drink?Ó
ÒJust
water.Ó
ÒIs
there any booze in here?Ó
ÒI
am afraid not.Ó
ÒOoh,
shows what you know.Ó She found a
bottle of port pushed back among the other containers. ÒI bet your motherÕs to thank for this.Ó She held up the bottle.
He
glanced back. ÒYou are no doubt
right. She enjoys that wine
greatly.Ó
She
poured herself a glass and put the bottle back where she found it. Then she took her seat with Spock. ÒIf you erase me, sheÕll never know you
care for her.Ó
ÒThat
is a likely outcome of that choice.Ó
ÒGood. If she doesnÕt want to keep me, she
doesnÕt deserve to know.Ó She took
a long swallow of the wine.
It
felt so good going down.
##
Spock
got Christine settled in the guest room in his familyÕs house. TÕVala, the
live-in housekeeper, supervised as he worked. She then led him to the kitchen where she
had obviously been preparing lunch.
ÒYour
father was not sure how long you would be staying, Spock.Ó
ÒNor
am I. It will depend on the
progress I make with Christine.Ó
ÒChristine,
is it? Interesting.Ó TÕVala lifted
an eyebrow at him. ÒI did not receive
much information on this woman—her likes, dislikes as far as meals go.Ó
He
realized he didnÕt know. Also
realized that if Christine was a passionate carnivore, Vulcan might be a hardship
rather than a respite. But she was
safe here, and that was what primarily concerned him, that he have the time he
needed to work with her mind.
ÒI
will find out if there is anything she does not eat.Ó
TÕVala began to wash some tubers. ÒIt has been a long time since you were
home, Spock. Not since you brought Valeris
with you.Ó
ÒI
estimated it would take you five point three minutes to mention her to me. You lasted much less.Ó
Another
eyebrow was her answer. ÒShe mingled
too easily with humans.Ó
ÒThat
could describe you. You and my
mother get on quite well. I imagine
you and Christine will, too.Ó
ÒBut
I maintain the essential Vulcan nature.
She was too...open.Ó TÕVala waved the tuber slightly as if she could dismiss
Valeris the same way. ÒAt any rate,
she is safely in custody.Ó
ÒShe
is.Ó He sat on his regular
stool. ÒI should have seen what was
right in front of me.Ó
ÒNone
of us saw it, Spock. Despite my
words, I did not see it, either. I
did not find her suitable for you, but it was not because I thought she was a
traitor.Ó
ÒNo,
you thought she was too young for me.Ó
ÒShe
was too young for you. This woman
seems more appropriate to your needs.Ó
ÒYou
would promote a human over a Vulcan?Ó
ÒI
look at individuals, as you well know.
I am not a snob.Ó
He
let an eyebrow go up. ÒAll Vulcans
are snobs, myself included.Ó
Her eyes were very light as she poured kÕvinda juice
into a tall glass. ÒGo take this to
your woman.Ó
ÒShe
is not my woman.Ó
ÒAh,
the boy is a progressive. How
novel.Ó She handed him the
glass. ÒGo. Let me work in peace.Ó
Spock
walked back to the guest room.
Christine was awake and smiled at him as he brought the juice in.
She
sat up and plumped the pillows behind her.
ÒSo when are you going to get started with making me go away and bringing
the old me back?Ó
ÒAs
soon as you are walking without effort for more than a few minutes.Ó
She
grinned. ÒYou just like me better
than her, donÕt you? Hate to say
goodbye to all of this.Ó
ÒThat
is not the case.Ó
ÒYou
like her better, then?Ó
ÒYou
are both Christine Chapel.Ó
ÒI
know. ItÕs really weird.Ó She took a sip of the juice. ÒMmm, this is
good. I wonder if sheÕll like it,
too. Do your tastes change as you
get older? Or am I tasting with her
tongue so IÕm the one who might not like it if I was in my younger body?Ó
ÒI
think you are making the enjoyment of juice very complicated.Ó
ÒThereÕs
that word again.Ó She took another
sip and leaned back. ÒWhat if I
told you that I want to stay?Ó
ÒYou
have already had your turn. It
would be unconscionable to not try to get her back.Ó
ÒBut
you could. I could fake it.Ó
ÒYou
could not. She has years of
Starfleet experience that you do not.
Degrees you have not attained including an M.D.Ó
ÒWhy
would I want to get an M.D.?Ó
ÒYou
were a nurse. It must have seemed a
natural progression to you. I am
unsure, you were not confiding in me at the time.Ó
ÒHave
I ever confided in you?Ó
ÒTruthfully,
no.Ó
ÒSo,
weÕre closer than you ever were to her?Ó
He
thought about that. ÒPossibly,
yes.Ó
ÒThen
donÕt bring her back. I can play catch-up.Ó She laughed before he could answer. ÒIf you could see your face. IÕm almost afraid youÕll launch right into
whatever you are going to do to get her back just to shut me up. IÕm kidding.Ó She took another sip. ÒSort of.Ó
He
decided not to answer, since she had alarmed him to some degree.
ÒWhat
I really wish is that I could meet her.
Ask her what not to do, you know?Ó
ÒYou
have already lived. There is
nothing left for you to do. You are
not some visitor from the past, you are a collection of memories.Ó
She
smiled at him. ÒWeÕre all a
collection of memories, Spock.
Experiences and people we know.
ThatÕs what makes us who we are.Ó
She looked down then asked very softly, ÒWho was Valeris?Ó
He
could feel his eyebrows going up.
ChristineÕs hearing was a great deal more acute than he had
thought. ÒSomeone I used to know.Ó
ÒYour
expression changed. You
look...hurt, angry maybe, too?
Someone you used to love, I think.Ó
She lifted the glass and watched him as she drank.
ÒI
cared for her. She betrayed not
just me but the Federation.Ó
ÒOuch. ThatÕs gotta
sting. Having someone you love make
choices you donÕt understand.Ó
He
resisted the urge to tell her she would know soon enough what that felt
like. This Christine had not lived
through RogerÕs departure and demise yet.
She did not know that he would be guilty of hubris and treachery just as
Valeris was.
He
moved to the door. ÒI will let you
rest.Ó
ÒDo
I love you?Ó
ÒI
believe so.Ó
She
smiled. ÒI have good taste.Ó
He
half shrugged—a very non-Vulcan gesture.
ÒAww, youÕre embarrassed by the compliment. Do you love me—her?Ó
ÒI
care for her. More than I
realized.Ó
ÒSo
I am useful. Without me, you might
not have realized that, isnÕt that true?Ó
He
nodded, willing to give her that.
Between his ChristineÕs bravery and this ChristineÕs exuberance, he was
rapidly seeing what he had been rejecting all these years. Seeing and regretting.
##
Christine
was walking up and down the hall.
She saw Spock come out of his room and said, ÒLook, ma, no hands.Ó
His
mouth ticked up ever so slightly, and she found herself smiling in
response.
Damn
it all. She was really going to
miss him. She hoped her older self
remembered this—how it felt to be around him with his guard down. She had a feeling that he hadnÕt done
that around her before. ÒI think
itÕs time, Spock. Before I get too
fond of this body and run away with it.Ó
ÒYou
would not do that. You would not do
that to yourself.Ó
ÒYou
donÕt know me very well if you think thatÕs true. IÕm not altruistic.Ó
ÒYou
are now.Ó He moved toward her,
motioning her into her bedroom. ÒI
have been meditating. Preparing.Ó
ÒWill
you miss me?Ó she asked as she lay down on the bed and let him pull the covers
up over her.
He
eased onto the bed next to her. ÒI
will.Ó He smoothed back her hair,
then settled his fingers on her face.
ÒYou will not feel anything except the sensation of going to sleep. I wonÕt start what I have to do until I
am sure you are out.Ó
ÒOkay.Ó She smiled at him. ÒIÕd ask you to kiss me but you want to
kiss her, donÕt you, not me?Ó
He
nodded.
ÒAnd
she might not want to be kissed, not after what happened to her—to
me. To us? This is confusing.Ó
ÒI
know.Ó He pressed a little harder
with his fingers. ÒI have enjoyed
getting to know you, Christine.Ó
ÒSame
here.Ó She surrendered to the push
of his mind, felt blackness come over her.
And
then there was nothing.
##
Chapel
woke with a start to find herself no longer under the bush on the Mallutian home world but still under SpockÕs fingers,
pressing hard into her psi points.
ÒDid it work? Where are we?Ó
She
tried to sit up—why was she so weak?
ÒChristine,
stay down, please. We need to
discuss some things. I am going to
give you a choice.Ó
ÒA
choice? A choice of what? Damn it. You were supposed to wipe my memory. Did you let them have me with my memory
intact? But why canÕt I remember
getting here—where the hell are we?Ó
He
eased her down. ÒWe are in my
parentÕs house on Vulcan. I did
wipe your memory. They took
you. They tortured you and raped
you. I have stopped the memory
restoration just before that happened.Ó
She
could feel her heart racing, tried to relax but it was strange being this close
to him. He was talking to her as if
he were used to spending time with her.
Since goddamn when? ÒCanÕt
you get those memories back? Is
that why you stopped?Ó
ÒI
can get them back. But I do not
have to. There is no reason for you
to experience that trauma. Your
body already has and it is recovering.Ó
ÒWhat?Ó
ÒI
can stop now. You will never have
to feel that pain.Ó
ÒI
need to know what I told them.Ó
ÒYou
told them nothing because you knew nothing to tell. I left a younger version of you for them
to find.Ó
ÒHow
young?Ó
ÒYou
had just become involved with Roger.Ó
She
laughed bitterly. That version of her? The one who thought everything would go
her way if she only smiled pretty enough and flashed her big brain? The Chapel who had never lost?
ÒYou
need to give me my memories back.Ó
He
seemed to be pulling his fingers away rather than pressing them in more, so she
said, ÒNow, Spock.Ó
ÒAll
right. I will do it. But perhaps you should rest? This has been taxing for both of us.Ó
She
shook her head. ÒJust get it over
with. I need to know what happened. I canÕt fix it if I canÕt see it.Ó
ÒThis
is not something you can fix. This
is something you endured and now it is over. There is no fixing it. And again, please consider this
choice. Traumatic events often
produce amnesia: no one but I would know this was not organic. You would still be you, simply with a
week missing. You do not have to do
this.Ó
She
felt frustration fill her. What the
hell was he thinking? This would be
bad; she knew that already. ÒGive
me back my memories, Spock.Ó
ÒAs
you wish, Christine.Ó He put his
fingers on her face, his mind pressed into hers, and she let go and let him
in.
And
then...
Oh.
The
memories flooded her all at once, which was preferable to having to relive the
brutality in real time. But the feeling
of Spock pressing against her, his body so much like those men whoÕd held her
down and hurt her, made her try to scramble out from under the covers.
ÒChristine,
it is all right.Ó
She
slapped his fingers from her face, felt the dying meld snap painfully. ÒGet out.Ó
ÒPlease let me help you.Ó
She
tried to crawl out from under the covers, but his body was pressing them
tightly against her. She pushed him,
but he did not move.
ÒChristine,
I can help.Ó
ÒJust
get out.Ó She screamed the words at
him, knowing it would hurt his ears far more than a humanÕs.
He
got up and left her.
A
Vulcan woman—TÕVala, her other selfÕs memories
told her—walked in. ÒCan I do
anything?Ó
She
shook her head. ÒLeave me alone.Ó
ÒI
am just outside if you need me.Ó She
shut the door gently.
Chapel
waited until she heard footsteps receding, and then she wept as quietly as she
could.
##
Spock
found himself in the uncomfortable position of having absolutely no idea what
to do next. HeÕd grown accustomed
to dealing with ChristineÕs younger self.
She would have welcomed his company—and his help. But this older Christine and he had not
interacted at the same level. The
mission to the Mallutians was their first opportunity
to spend time together.
He
did not know how to help her—and he wanted desperately to do so.
TÕVala told him several times to go out for a walk, to
sit in the garden, to get out of the salon where he could watch ChristineÕs
door, still so firmly shut.
SheÕd
eaten, TÕVala told him that. Had come out once he was gone and shut
herself back up before heÕd returned.
ÒShe is dealing with it in her own way, Spock. Let her be.Ó
TÕVala was wise.
That did not make him feel any better, however.
Two
days later, Christine came out and sat down across from him. She met his eyes; her own were
haunted. ÒYou know what happened to
me?Ó
ÒI
did not relive it in any detail.
Not when I took it from your younger self, nor when I gave it back to
you. I did not wish to intrude any
more than I already had. But I certainly
have a sense of what was done to you, and I saw your injuries, felt your
distress.Ó
She
nodded and sat in silence for a long time.
He forced himself to wait, to not say or do anything that might make
things worse.
ÒI
told them everything. Nothing
important—you saw to that and thank you for that. But I spilled my guts.Ó
ÒShe
did, not you.Ó
ÒThatÕs
an easy out, isnÕt it? She, not
I. But she is as much Christine
Chapel as I am. Even if the way I
was then is something I hate now.Ó
ÒYou
should not. She had many good
traits.Ó
ÒI
remember everything from the torture on, including being her. ItÕs...really weird to remember that,
being her again. You liked her,
didnÕt you?Ó
ÒI
did.Ó He was not even trying to
wrap Vulcan formality around him. Let her understand that he liked who
sheÕd been.
She
took a deep breath. ÒI remember what
she said to you. About
staying. You should have kept her.Ó
ÒShe
was not you, Christine. I was never
in any doubt about that. She is
part of what formed you, but she is not you.Ó
ÒShe
fell in love with you.Ó
ÒYou
did as well once.Ó He wanted to say
she could again, but from the look on her face, he did not think she wanted to
think of love and closeness.
ÒI
did. YouÕre right.Ó She stood up. ÒIÕm sorry if IÕve worried you. I donÕt mean to.Ó She managed to leave the room without
coming near him and went into the kitchen.
He
heard her talking to TÕVala.
He
got up, walked into his room, and settled onto his meditation mat. Not that he thought it would help, or
that he could find into any kind of true peace, but it would be something to do
other than pester her.
##
Christine
woke from another nightmare. Men
hurting her, forcing her. Hard
blows and screwed up faces. The
horrible things theyÕd said to her.
The more horrible things theyÕd done to her.
A
light knock sounded on her door.
She knew it was Spock, knew that if she ignored the knock, heÕd go away.
ÒCome
in.Ó
The
door opened slowly—sheÕd never seen Spock as tentative as he was around
her right now. What made it worse
was she had the memories of how he was with that other Christine. How...light they had been with each
other.
She
could have chosen not to know and that lightness might have been hers, too, as
she got to know him free of this nightmare. Should she have chosen that? She felt mired in this pain.
He
sat in the chair that was farthest from the bed. ÒI should not have brought you
here. There is no one for you to
talk to.Ó
ÒYou
mean like a counselor?Ó
He
nodded. ÒOr another human.Ó He rubbed his eyes, something sheÕd
never seen him do. ÒI am sorry,
Christine. I thought I was doing
the right thing, but perhaps I was only doing the thing I wanted to do.Ó
ÒI
understand why you wanted to get me away.
Command is squirrelly about the cloaking tech. IÕm sure they would have rather
controlled the reintegration of my memories than let you do it.Ó
ÒThat
was my fear.Ó
ÒIÕd
do the same if I were in their place.Ó
She pulled her robe on, crawled out of bed, and walked over to him. ÒDid I cry out in my sleep? Is that why you are here?Ó
He
nodded.
She
sighed. ÒIÕm sorry.Ó
ÒYou
do not ever have to apologize for that.Ó
His look was fierce. ÒI wish
only to comfort you, but I donÕt know how.Ó
ÒI
keep feeling their hands.Ó She took
a ragged breath. ÒEvery time I
sleep, I dream of them. When IÕm
awake, IÕm thinking of them. I
canÕt shake what they did to me.Ó
She moved closer to him.
ÒPart of me wants you to take it all away. But I canÕt do that.Ó
ÒI
could make it less painful.Ó
She
shook her head. ÒI have to work
through this. You said it yourself:
this isnÕt something I can fix.Ó
She moved closer, till her knees were touching his. ÒCan you hold me for a moment? I just want hands on me that wonÕt hurt
me.Ó
He
nodded and held his arms open to her, letting her find a comfortable position
on his lap before he enfolded her gently and rested his face against her
hair. ÒI am sorry, Christine. This is my fault. If I had not wanted you with me on this
mission, you would not have been hurt.Ó
ÒWhy
did you? Was it because of Jim?Ó
ÒAnd
Valeris. And Mister Scott. Saavik is away. Leonard is off world. I was...Ó
ÒLonely?Ó
ÒYes. Lonely.Ó
ÒWas
I just any port in the storm?Ó
ÒNo. If you remember what we talked about
when you were your younger self, then you know that was not the case.Ó
ÒI
remember what we talked about. She
believed it because she thought everyone would love her if given the
chance. IÕm not sure I believe it.Ó
He
tightened his hold on her, and she tensed.
ÒSpock, too much.Ó
He
let go so fast she couldnÕt feel his arms anymore. ÒI beg pardon.Ó
ÒYou
can hold on more than that. But not
too tight. I know, itÕs confusing.Ó
ÒComplicated,Ó
he said, his tone rueful, and she smiled.
ÒYes,
complicated. Your favorite
word. She liked it, too, that
younger me. I was happy at that age,
Spock. Uncomplicated. I saw
what I wanted and I went for it.
And I got it. I didnÕt
lose. I didnÕt worry about losing
or what was at stake. Everything
was theoretical in our work, so there was no danger. It was all so fake.
ÒI
got Roger and he went away before we could get married. He created an android to keep him
company on Exo III and it wasnÕt me. She was short, dark haired, curvy
instead of lanky. It was a slap in
the face. My series of losses. Losing him. Joining Starfleet when I used to laugh
at that idea. Having to Ôyes, sir,Õ
and Ôno, sir,Õ people with less degrees than I had. Watching scientists treat me like I
didnÕt know anything if I tried to make small talk.Ó
ÒDid
I do that to you?Ó
ÒYou
were too busy running the other way.
Wisely, I might add. I was a
mess, looking for something to hold on to.
Adrift, after years of knowing my course. Or changing course with no regard for
the rocks ahead.Ó
ÒYou
are no longer adrift, Christine.
You are highly respected.
You have risen through the ranks in an astonishingly expeditious
fashion. And you are held in high
regard by your people.Ó
ÒYouÕre
basing that on Saul?Ó
ÒCommander Watkins was not the only member of your crew who was worried about
you.Ó He pushed his cheek against
the side of her head. ÒI am
impressed by who you have become, Christine.Ó
ÒThank
you.Ó She pressed back against his
cheek for a moment, then said, ÒOkay, let me up.Ó
He
released her immediately.
ÒGo
back to bed, Spock. IÕm okay for
now.Ó
He
nodded and stood up. ÒIf the time
comes when you need me in your bed, to be there when you wake up, to hold you,
do not hesitate to ask.Ó
ÒI
appreciate that. But IÕm not ready.Ó Would she ever be ready for that?
He
looked slightly embarrassed. ÒIt may
appear forward of me to suggest it, but I wanted you to know. It is not something we would have talked
about before now.Ó
ÒNo,
itÕs not. Thank you for
caring.Ó She moved away so he could
get by her. ÒGood night, Spock.Ó
ÒGood
night, Christine.Ó
##
Several
nights later, Spock woke to the sound of Christine crying out. He debated going to her, then heard her
get out of bed, heard her steps on the short walk to his door, then a soft
knock.
ÒCome
in.Ó
ÒDid
I wake you?Ó Her voice shook.
ÒYes.Ó
ÒIÕm
sorry.Ó She started to cry, and he
held up the blanket and sheet on his bed, unsure if she would join him but
sensing she needed the comfort that only another person could bring.
She
walked over slowly, slid into his bed, and shuddered slightly as he settled the
covers over her. ÒI canÕt do this
on my own. IÕve tried and I canÕt.Ó
ÒI
will do whatever you want me to.Ó
She
nestled in against him, and he put his arms around her, being careful not to
hold too tightly and spook her. For
a moment, she lay pressed against him, then she moved back.
ÒI
canÕt let you take the memories altogether. I need to remember. Starfleet will need me to remember. The Mallutians
asked what they asked for a reason, and IÕll be debriefed eventually.Ó
He
waited.
ÒBut
if you can give me any distance—any at all.Ó
ÒI
believe I can.Ó He settled his
fingers on the meld points, felt panic coming from her in waves—and
exhaustion. Had she slept at all
since heÕd given her back the memories?
ÒShhh.
It is all right. You are
safe, Christine. It is over. It is in the past. You are safe now. I will help you.Ó
She
moaned and seemed to relax under his fingers.
He
stopped talking, worked instead with intent, deep in her mind, easing the sharp
edges of the memories, telling her over and over again that she was
safe—that she was safe with him.
He
finally eased out of her mind and slipped his fingers off the meld points, then
let himself stroke her cheek.
She
snaked her arm around his side, pressed herself tightly to him. ÒIÕm so tired.Ó
ÒThen
sleep. I will watch over you.Ó
ÒIÕm
sorry IÕve been so mean to you.Ó
She nuzzled his neck. ÒI
should have asked you for help right away.Ó
ÒYou
have not been mean. And this is a
process you had to go through. You
have asked for help now, and I have given it, and I will give more if you need
it.Ó He let his lips sit on her
hair, inhaled the sweet smell of her shampoo.
ÒI
love you.Ó She was half asleep but
her words still made him smile slightly.
ÒI
care for you greatly, Christine,Ó he said, but he was not sure she was still
awake. It did not matter if she
heard or not. She would surely have
felt his regard in the meld. He had
not tried to hide it at all.
She
moaned softly and cuddled in closer, her breathing finally changing to that of
deep sleep.
##
Chapel
woke to find Spock curled fast asleep around her. She eased out of his embrace and pulled
on her robe, opening and closing the door quietly so he would not wake. She found TÕVala
in the kitchen.
ÒChristine. Did you sleep?Ó
The
woman didnÕt miss a damn thing.
Like that Chapel hadnÕt been sleeping at all before. ÒI did. Can you do me a favor? Can you call me a transport?Ó
ÒAre
you leaving?Ó
Chapel
nodded.
ÒWhy? You are finally relaxing, are you
not?Ó TÕVala
handed her something that smelled suspiciously like coffee.
She
took a sip. It was coffee. She knew her look was more ÒWhat the
hell?Ó than ÒThank you.Ó
TÕVala raised an eyebrow. ÒSpockÕs mother enjoys it. I thought you would, too.Ó She shooed Chapel onto a stool and
dished her up a hearty Vulcan breakfast to go with her Terran
caffeine jolt. ÒNow, explain to me
why you need to leave. And why you are
doing it while Spock is still asleep.
You clearly care for him and he has made it quite clear he holds you in
high regard, as well.Ó
ÒHas
he ever mentioned me to you before now?Ó
ÒNo.Ó
ÒSee. ThatÕs why IÕm leaving.Ó
ÒI
do not follow.Ó
Chapel
took a bite of her food and tried not to let the stern face of Vulcan logic
break down her resolve. She took
another couple of bites—the stern face of Vulcan logic sure could cook.
TÕVala waited.
Chapel had the feeling she could wait all day for the reply.
ÒItÕs
transference. Or guilt. Maybe both.Ó
ÒWhat
is?Ó
ÒHim
caring for me. Yes, IÕve loved him
for—well, since I met him, basically. Forget about me. HeÕs never wanted me. And now he does? After I was injured when he had to leave
me. ItÕs not love.Ó
TÕVala sat down next to her and said, ÒKeep
eating. I will talk.Ó
Since
the food was heavenly, Chapel kept eating.
ÒSpock
left you because it was the logical thing to do, was it not? A nod will suffice.Ó
Chapel
nodded.
ÒHe
may well have felt some form of guilt for leaving you there. That guilt, however, would have been
assuaged when he rescued you and you were safely off the planet. He is not human—do not apply human
psychology to him, Christine.Ó
Chapel
shot her a look.
ÒI
am quite serious. If it was logical
and for the good of the many and he
found a way to make it right despite that, his conscience is clear. If he has you here, it is because he
wants you here. Simple, is it not,
this logic of ours?Ó TÕVala raised an eyebrow again, this time managing to make
the gesture gently mocking. ÒYou
may speak now.Ó
ÒYou
think he cares about me?Ó
ÒI
believe he does, yes.Ó
ÒDo
you approve of me?Ó
ÒI
am the housekeeper here.Ó
ÒHe
trusts you. I trust you. YouÕre a Vulcan. Do you approve of me?Ó
ÒI
was not so sure about the version of you that first showed up. She was—Ó
ÒFlighty? An idiot?Ó
ÒI
was going to say young. I found her
quite intelligent and interesting to converse with, however.Ó
ÒOh.Ó
ÒShe
is you, Christine. Why do you
dislike her so?Ó
ÒI
made some stupid choices.Ó
ÒWhich
led you to this moment. So ill
advised or not, they are your history, the stepping stones of your life. You might as well hate the cells inside
you.Ó
Chapel
smiled. ÒA poet and a great cook. No wonder they love you.Ó She looked down.
ÒMay
I make a suggestion?Ó
Chapel
nodded.
ÒDo
not rush into any decision right now.
You are in distress psychologically and emotionally. And Spock is willing to help you. Let him help you. If more develops, then more develops. If it does not, you will still be
helped.Ó
ÒLogic
again?Ó
ÒOr
common sense. Call it what you
will.Ó She got up and left Chapel
alone in the kitchen.
But
not before dishing her up a second helping of everything.
##
Spock
found Christine in the kitchen.
ÒFoodÕs
on the stove,Ó she said, pointing with her fork toward the cooking unit. ÒI didnÕt make it, needless to say.Ó
He
tried to determine her mood by the tone of her voice and failed. He decided to get some breakfast and
figure out ChristineÕs state of mind more organically. ÒTÕVala is an
excellent cook.Ó
ÒYou
saying IÕm not?Ó
Her
mood did not seem good. Had she not
been able to sleep? He had meant to
stay awake but feeling her relax finally and having her next to him, on top of
the fact that he had gotten very little sleep since sheÕd been taken, had made
it impossible for him to keep his eyes open.
ÒIs
something wrong?Ó he asked as gently as he could.
ÒI
wanted to leave. Tried to get TÕVala to call a transport for me. She convinced me I should stay.Ó
He
knew he was frowning, didnÕt try to stop the expression. ÒWhy would you want to leave? Did I do something last night in my
sleep?Ó
She
reached over, rubbed his arm.
ÒNo. You didnÕt. ItÕs not you, itÕs me.Ó Then she laughed—the sound was
slightly hysterical. ÒThat excuse
always worked in the past when I needed to unload a one-night stand who thought
he could be more.Ó
Spock
was not following her stream of logic—if indeed there was any logic in
what she said—so he waited.
She finally turned to look at him.
Her eyes had lost their haunted look but there was still something
showing in her expression he did not like.
ÒWhy do you want to help me, Spock?Ó
ÒYou
need me.Ó
ÒYou
specifically?Ó
ÒI
do not understand.Ó
ÒYes, you do. Do you feel guilty
over what happened to me? Is that
why youÕre being so...solicitous?Ó
ÒI
did the only thing I could do under the circumstances. And you are safe now and healing. Why would I feel guilty?Ó
She
started to laugh again in that semi-hysterical way.
ÒChristine,
perhaps another meld?Ó
She
held a hand up the way heÕd seen his mother do to his father when sheÕd had
enough of whatever he was trying to make happen. ÒWhy am I here...with you? In the bedroom next to yours. In your bed last night.Ó
ÒYou
came to my room.Ó
ÒSo
it was unwanted? My presence?Ó
ÒWhat
do you want me to say?Ó
She
got up and nearly spat ÒSomething really stupid—thatÕs what I want you to
sayÓ at him, and then she was walking down the hall. ÒCall me a goddamn transport.Ó
He
got up and followed her to her room, trying not to loom over her, to not
threaten her in any way. ÒWhat are
you doing?Ó
She
wouldnÕt look at him, and he realized she was crying.
ÒChristine,
what is wrong?Ó
ÒIÕm
still that idiotic woman, thatÕs whatÕs wrong.Ó She tried to brush past him, but he
stopped her as gently as he could.
ÒI
do not want you to go.Ó
ÒWhy?Ó She looked furious with him, and he
suddenly understood what she needed him to say.
ÒBecause
I care for you. Stay with me. Please?Ó
She
swallowed hard. ÒShitty
routine. Excellent dismount.Ó She slumped onto the bed and wiped her
eyes in what looked like anger.
He
sat down next to her. ÒDid I say
the wrong thing?Ó
ÒNope. You said exactly the right thing.Ó
ÒBut
you are still angry.Ó
ÒI
am. And sad. And afraid. And hurt. And thankful. And in love.Ó She laughed, a bitter sound he liked
even less than the hysterical amusement.
ÒIÕm a mess.Ó
He
put his arm around her very carefully, pulled her against him. ÒDo not go, Christine. I do not want you to.Ó
She
turned and wrapped her arms around him.
He thought she would cry but she didnÕt, just sat pressed against him,
breathing very deliberately as if she was trying to get control of herself.
He
could feel the chaos of her emotions wherever she touched him. He felt it and ignored it.
She had been through something awful.
This was no doubt part of the process to healing.
He
hugged her closer and told her over and over not to go, until she finally said,
ÒI wonÕt. IÕll stay.Ó
##
Chapel
woke, hours later, coming awake more gradually than she had before. She saw Spock reading, not on the bed
but in the chair by the door. He
didnÕt seem to realize she was awake, so she studied him, trying to imagine
them in the same room like this if the mission had gone off differently.
Was
this what heÕd wanted from her when he asked her to join him? To be...together in some way?
He
looked up, and she realized heÕd known she was awake: her breathing had
probably changed and heÕd notice that with his hearing. ÒYou slept a long time.Ó
ÒYou
didnÕt need to watch over me.Ó
ÒIt
was no bother. I have much reading
to catch up on.Ó He put the padd
aside. ÒAre you feeling better?Ó
ÒMore
stable, you mean?Ó She gave him the
most honest smile she could muster.
ÒI donÕt know.Ó She rolled
to her side, stared at the wall rather than him. ÒHow much have you seen of what happened
to me?Ó
ÒBits
and pieces.Ó
ÒI
want you to see it—to know what I went through. Would you be willing to do that?Ó
ÒI
would, if you are sure.Ó
She
turned over and looked at him. ÒWhy
did you ask me to go on this mission with you? Had you already decided we were going to
be...important to each other?Ó
He
nodded, his expression thoughtful.
ÒI am not sure it was a conscious decision, but in hindsight, yes, I
believe I did that.Ó
ÒAnd
you want that? You want more from
me?Ó
He
nodded, his eyes intense—something he appeared to realize because he
seemed to dial back the energy he was projecting.
ÒThen
I want you to know—I need you
to know—what they did to me.
And once you know, you can help me put it behind me. I can stop fighting you once you know,
if that makes any sense?Ó She
sighed. ÒThere wonÕt be anything
left to hide from.Ó
ÒI
will do whatever you need.Ó
She
patted the bed, and he came over and lay down beside her, only on top of the
covers. ÒCan you keep it distant
for me while you view the memories?
IÕm already reliving it, I donÕt want to do it again.Ó
ÒI
can try.Ó He didnÕt reach for her
immediately, just lay on his side, facing her, then inched closer. ÒI would do anything to keep you safe.Ó
ÒWhy?Ó
ÒBecause
you matter to me. And because I
have lost too much this year not to try.Ó
ÒAt
least youÕre honest. I think the
second part may be a bigger driver than the first.Ó
ÒDoes
it matter?Ó He smoothed her hair
back, the touch of his hand on her head soothing instead of frightening. ÒWhen I had to leave you—nothing
would have prevented me from going back for you.Ó
ÒLucky
for you we had that handy tech.Ó
ÒI
would have found a way even without it.Ó
He moved closer, his lips coming down on hers very lightly, not pushing
in any way, not threatening.
She
closed her eyes and let him kiss her, was surprised to realize, when she opened
her eyes again, that sheÕd put her arms around him, was holding him against
her. ÒI trust you,Ó she
whispered. ÒWhy do I trust you?Ó
ÒDoes
that matter? You do trust me and
for that I am grateful.Ó He nuzzled
her neck gently, the feeling sending shivers through her.
She
realized he could tell what she was feeling, could stop the moment he made her
uncomfortable. She moved her neck
to give him more access, smiled as he skipped his lips down to her collarbone.
Then
he eased away, his hand resting on the covers over her hip.
ÒThe
meld, Spock.Ó She smiled. Not a silly smile—she wasnÕt
capable of that yet—but a sweeter one, she thought, than sheÕd given him
since heÕd restored her memories.
He
raised his hand to her face, his fingers on her skin felt familiar and
right. She sensed him pushing her
away slightly, giving her the distance she wanted, and then he watched what had
happened to her.
She
could sense anger in him, anger that turned to a white-hot rage. The rage didnÕt frighten her,
though. She could tell it was
focused on her attackers, not on her.
He
seemed very shaky as he pulled away from her and lay on his back, staring at
the ceiling. ÒHad I known all they
had done to you, I would surely have killed them.Ó
ÒYou?Ó
He
turned, met her eyes, and his were as ferocious as sheÕd ever seen them. ÒYes. I.Ó
He turned. ÒDid you relive any
of it while I was watching?Ó
ÒNo,
you gave me the space I needed. I
could feel your emotions, though.Ó
She touched his cheek gently.
ÒYour anger.Ó She rested her
head on his shoulder. ÒThey hurt me
in every way they could. Humiliated
me.Ó
He
closed his eyes. ÒThe shame was
theirs, for hurting an innocent.Ó
ÒIÕm
hardly that, Spock. Although I
suppose the Chapel they ended up with was more an innocent than I am now.Ó She rubbed his chest lightly. ÒAre you okay?Ó
ÒIt
is...difficult to process everything.Ó
ÒThen
donÕt try. Just accept it and let
it sit.Ó She realized he was
shivering. ÒGet under the covers.Ó
He
kicked off his shoes then slid under the covers with her. She went into his arms, knowing they
both needed that. He wrapped her up
in a tight embrace—it would have been too tight before he knew, before he
needed comfort, too.
ÒI
love you,Ó she murmured. ÒDonÕt force yourself to say it back, Spock. Just let me say it. Thank you for saving me.Ó
Her
only answer was him tightening his hold on her and his lips pressed firmly
against her forehead.
##
A
light knock on ChristineÕs door sounded, and Spock jerked awake. TÕVala peeked
in through the door he and Christine had never bothered to shut and said,
ÒStarfleet Command wants to talk to you.
An Admiral Kasho?Ó She
looked remarkably unperturbed at finding him in bed with Christine.
ÒAh. The Admiral.Ó
ÒYes,
ah.Ó For a Vulcan she looked almost
amused. ÒYou seem to have irritated
him.Ó
ÒI
have no doubt of that. And he was
irritated with me before I took Christine away.Ó He eased out of bed and shut the door
behind him to let Christine sleep.
ÒAdmiral,Ó
he said, then realized he had no idea if his hair was mussed or his robe
wrinkled.
ÒDid
I wake you, Ambassador?Ó Question
answered. ÒMiddle of the day there,
isnÕt it?Ó
ÒWhat
can I do for you, sir?Ó Sometimes
the best policy was to ignore the dig.
ÒYou
can bring Commander Chapel back to Earth.
Your father can only cover your ass so long.Ó
ÒI
am not sure she is ready to come back, sir.Ó
ÒYou
will bring her back or I will have you up on charges.Ó
ÒHello,
Isak.Ó
Christine put her hand on SpockÕs shoulder and leaned in so Kasho could
see her. ÒI asked him to bring me
here. YouÕll have to put me up on
charges, not him.Ó
ÒChristine,
donÕt defend him. IÕm down to one
nerve right now and heÕs dancing on it.Ó
She
laughed, and Spock was struck by what a good actress she was. He would never guess how fragile she was
by the hearty sound sheÕd just made.
ÒI know I need to be debriefed.
I will come home. I
promise. Just give me some time to
heal up and IÕll be there before you know it.Ó
ÒI
need you here now.Ó
ÒIf
you think thatÕs best. Hey, howÕs
Rochelle?Ó
There
was a long silence as Kasho stared at her, his lips tightening. ÒI donÕt know what youÕre talking
about. Comm
me when youÕre ready to leave Vulcan.
Kasho out.Ó
The
screen went dead.
ÒAh,
the power of being in the right place at the right time.Ó She patted SpockÕs shoulder.
ÒWho
is Rochelle? His wifeÕs name is
Candice.Ó
ÒYes,
it is, isnÕt it?Ó She winked at him
and went back into her room. Then
she poked her head out. ÒDo you
have more tri-ox? That first shot
is wearing off.Ó
ÒIn
the bathroom, the third drawer down.Ó
ÒThanks.Ó She disappeared into the bathroom and he
heard the shower running. When she
finally came out—she appeared to like long showers; her younger self had
taken even more time in the bathroom—she sat down across from him. ÒTalking to him that way felt good. Taking back some power, maybe?Ó
ÒSince
I do not fully understand what you did, I cannot say for sure. But as the admiral did back down with
alacrity, I would say you won in some way.Ó
ÒGo
me.Ó She leaned forward and pulled
the turbaned towel off her hair, rubbing it and then finger combing it into
place.
She
looked remarkably appealing in the soft robe with tousled wet hair. ÒWhat?Ó
ÒI
am admiring you.Ó
She
laughed. ÒYou really donÕt know how
to play it cool, do you?Ó
ÒWhy
would I wish to? You asked. I answered.Ó
She
smiled. ÒCan we go for a walk? I need to get out for a while. IÕve been in that bedroom for too long.Ó
ÒWe
can.Ó
ÒIÕll
get dressed.Ó She took far less time
getting dressed than getting clean.
She was out in a few minutes, and they left by the back gate, exiting
onto a walking path that went behind the houses in the neighborhood. On the other side was open land, covered
with low grass that blew in the hot breeze.
She
started to laugh softly. ÒWalking
in the middle of the day was not one of my better ideas.Ó
ÒWe
will not stay out long. But it is
good for you to move.Ó
She
nodded. ÒI hope you know I only
bought a few days with Kasho.
YouÕll need to take me back to Earth.Ó
ÒWhen?Ó
ÒI
think if I stay more than two more days, IÕll be pushing it. IÕm gunning for a new job. I donÕt want to tick him off
completely.Ó
ÒWhat
job?Ó
ÒHis
exec.Ó She started to laugh. ÒAnd it has nothing to do with being in
the right place at the right time.
IÕve worked with him on and off or years. We get along really well.Ó
ÒSo
you trust him?Ó
ÒI
do. I just like how peaceful it is
here. Once I go back there, it all
starts up again.Ó She sighed. ÒI have to get back into Ops, into that
big room and look my people in the eye.
If I donÕt do it soon, I never will.Ó
ÒI
understand. ÔGet back on the
horse,Õ Jim used to say.Ó
ÒExactly.Ó She walked in silence for a moment, then
said, ÒI need to get back on the horse in another way, Spock.Ó She stopped walking. ÒSex. IÕm afraid of it and thatÕs just going
to get worse. If you want to...IÕd
like us to...Ó She was turning very
red.
ÒI
will do whatever you want.Ó
ÒBut
what do you want?Ó
ÒYou.Ó He touched her arm to get her walking
again, then said, ÒMay I suggest we not rush it?Ó
ÒKasho
may be mad enough to find you a diplomatic assignment very far away.Ó
ÒThen
I will take a leave of absence. I
have remarkable latitude.Ó
She
smiled. ÒYouÕd do that for me?Ó
He
nodded.
ÒMaybe
you just donÕt want to have sex.
Maybe IÕm assuming a lot.Ó
ÒNeither
is true. If I do not wish to rush
this, it is not because I am uninterested in sex. It is merely that I want it to happen
more naturally.Ó
ÒAwww, youÕre a romantic. Who knew?Ó
He
tried to bite back a small smile.
Just then she had sounded like her younger self: light and happy. It was a relief to hear.
ÒCan
we go back? ItÕs too hot out here.Ó
ÒOf
course.Ó
As
they neared the house, she said, ÒSorry that IÕm not more romantic. I lost that ability somewhere along the
line. I donÕt really...socialize
much anymore.Ó
ÒNo?Ó
She
shook her head. ÒEasier to just be
alone.Ó
ÒEasier,
perhaps, but not healthier.
Isolation can lead to problems.Ó
She
smiled. ÒLike saying yes when your
old crush asks you to go somewhere you think is a lost cause.Ó
ÒYou
thought that? Before we got there?Ó
ÒI
had my suspicions it was a fruitless mission. I guess I found out the hard way that
speaking up is a good thing.Ó She
glanced at him. ÒWould you have
listened to me if IÕd said it was a waste of resources to go?Ó
ÒI
do not know.Ó He held her
gaze. ÒPerhaps.Ó
ÒBut
probably not. And I sure wasnÕt
going to turn down a chance to work with you.Ó
He
held the door for her to go into the house and she smiled. ÒThank you.Ó Then he followed her into her bedroom
and shut the door.
She
lifted an eyebrow in a creditable imitation of a Vulcan. ÒWhat are we doing?Ó
He
moved carefully, knew she was still capable of being spooked even if the meld
had helped her. He took her gently
by the arms, pulled her close, ready to let go if he felt any resistance.
ÒI
thought you said you wanted it to happen naturally?Ó
ÒThis
is natural.Ó He kissed her as
tenderly as he could, felt her twine her arms around his neck, her body pressed
against his own. He could sense she
was comfortable but that could change if he pushed it, so he released her and
moved back. ÒI will let you rest.Ó
She
touched his arm. ÒThat was nice.Ó
ÒYes. It was indeed exceedingly pleasant.Ó He stared at her for a moment, then left
her alone.
##
Chapel
sat in the passenger seat of the transport ship as Spock piloted them on the
final approach to Earth. ÒSo, where
are you staying while youÕre on Earth.Ó
ÒI
had thought the VOQ or the Embassy if that is full.Ó
She
watched his profile for a moment, then said, ÒYou can stay with me if you
want.Ó She couldnÕt believe how
easy that was to say.
Or
how easily he said, ÒI would like that.
Are you sure you want that?Ó
ÒIÕm
sure. I have a guest room.Ó
ÒOf
course.Ó Did he sound disappointed?
ÒIÕm
not saying youÕll have to sleep in the guest room...Ó She thought his lips turned up just
enough to qualify as a smile. ÒIÕm
not saying you wonÕt have to, either.Ó
ÒBut
in either case, there is room for me and I will not be an imposition?Ó
ÒRight.Ó She laughed softly and watched as the
big blue planet she loved grew bigger.
ÒThank you for everything.Ó
ÒIncluding
getting you involved in this?Ó
ÒYes. Strange as that may sound.Ó She reached out to him, was surprised
but happy when he reached back and took her hand. ÒI mean...I like this. Even if itÕs still hard to imagine being
really close.Ó
ÒWhen
you are ready, we will take it slowly.
There is no reason to rush.Ó
ÒThe
younger me would have had you in bed already.Ó
ÒThe
younger you did not have the memories you struggle with. It is a significant difference.Ó
ÒTrue
enough.Ó She let go of his hand and
leaned back, content to sit quietly and watch as he took her home.
Once
they had landed, he hailed ground transport for her. ÒAre you sure you do not want me to come
with you?Ó
ÒYep. The admiral needs to see that IÕm one
hundred percent.Ó
ÒYou
are not.Ó
She
grinned. ÒHe doesnÕt need to know
that, does he? I mean itÕs what you
or Jim would do.Ó
He
conceded that with a somewhat sheepish nod. ÒI have an afternoon meeting at
Command. I can come to you after if
you wish.Ó
ÒSounds
good.Ó She got into the transport
and was alone for the first time since sheÕd been taken. It felt...strange to be apart from
Spock. Was that neediness from what
had happened to her, or was she just happy to be with him?
Was she with him? He was staying
with her and they were joking about beds.
She didnÕt think that would happen if she wasnÕt with him.
SheÕd
know if he was just doing this to help her, right?
God,
why couldnÕt she have the confidence of that younger version of her? Who would have simply said, ÒOf course
he wants me.Ó
She
found the walk to KashoÕs office taxing but stopped in the bathroom to make
sure she looked all right before going to his office. His aide said heÕd be right back, so she
sat and waited.
A
few minutes later, Kasho strode in, glanced at her, muttered, ÒNice of you to
grace us with your presence, Christine,Ó and motioned her inside his office.
Once
the door closed, he said, ÒJesus H. Christ, Chapel. Rochelle?Ó
ÒI
wasnÕt ready to come back. And you
knew that. IÕd have been back if I
was ready.Ó
ÒAre
you ready now? Or is this just a
visit to have dinner at the Vulcan embassy?Ó
She
rolled her eyes. ÒIÕm back. SoÕs
Spock. DonÕt send him away.Ó
ÒI
should. HeÕs not my favorite person
right now.Ó
ÒWell, he is mine.Ó
ÒNo
accounting for taste.Ó He shook his
head and sat down. ÒOkay, so your
memories are back, I assume.Ó
ÒYep. IÕm ready for the debrief.Ó
ÒHow
much did Spock see?Ó
ÒHe
was careful not to pry. He did what
he needed to without going too deep.Ó
Which was technically true.
HeÕd seen a lot more when sheÕd asked him to look, but she was pretty
sure heÕd stuck to the events of the attack, not to any Ops things that might
give Kasho hives. ÒBesides, this is
Spock. He defines tight lipped.Ó
ÒI
know. I know. He was just up in my grill over looking
for Kirk. I was the one who denied
him the use of a ship.Ó
ÒWell,
thatÕs between you two.Ó She gave
him a bland look and waited.
He
finally seemed to relax. ÒIÕm damned
glad youÕre all right. Hated to
think of having to interview a bunch of ambitious yahoos for your job.Ó He studied her. ÒSeriously, I was worried about you.Ó
ÒI
know.Ó
ÒI
didnÕt expect Spock to hijack you.Ó
She
laughed. ÒGiven his and JimÕs
record, I donÕt know why not.Ó
ÒYouÕre
right. IÕm a damn idiot. Guess I thought it was KirkÕs influence
on him, never thought it was something heÕd do on his own.Ó
She
thought about Spock hijacking the ship to get Pike to Talos
IV—there was really no limit to what he was willing to do for a friend in
need.
Kasho
reached for his comm unit. ÒCommander Jerule?Ó
ÒJerule, here, sir.Ó
ÒCommander
Chapel is ready for her debrief.Ó
She
wondered what the head of KashoÕs special security staff was going to want to
know. She hoped this wouldnÕt be
any more painful than it needed to be.
ÒSend
her down.Ó
ÒGo
on, Christine. Once heÕs done with
you, get your things settled in Ops so you can report here next week. IÕm letting Commander Jenkins go on
leave before he reports to the Miramar.Ó
ÒYouÕre
barely giving my folks time to get the goodbye party organized.Ó
He
laughed loudly. ÒThe day that crew
canÕt organize a party in five minutes flat is the day I hang my hat up.Ó He winked at her. ÒGlad youÕre back, Christine. Now go fill Lindsay in so heÕll quit
asking me how much damage control heÕs going to have to do.Ó
She
smiled at him and walked down to JeruleÕs
office. He was thorough but
surprisingly gentle with her—sheÕd always thought him kind of an
ass. Apparently, it paid to nearly
get killed. It also helped that she
hadnÕt been the idiot who pulled out the prototypes for the big rescue.
Not
that she blamed the idiots. They
were two of her favorite people.
Now more than ever.
##
Spock
walked into Ops, looking for Christine but not seeing her.
Watkins
saw him and grinned. ÒWell, look
what the cat dragged in.Ó
ÒI
have never understood that particular saying.Ó
ÒThen
youÕve never had a cat.Ó Watkins
motioned him to the back of the Ops bay.
ÒYou hungry? We always have
food. TodayÕs event was two newbies
reporting to Ops.Ó
Spock
took in the spread. ÒThere is a lot
of food here.Ó
ÒWe
have hungry people. Also long
shifts.Ó WatkinsÕ smile died a
little. ÒSo, how is she? I assume sheÕs here if you are. Boy, but didnÕt you tick off some of the
brass when you shanghaied her.Ó
ÒI
did not shanghai her.Ó
ÒDepends
on whoÕs telling the story, I guess.Ó
He sat in one of the chairs scattered around the back of the bay and
yawned. ÒIs she okay?Ó
ÒShe
is.Ó Spock was uncertain how much
to say; surely Christine would tell Watkins whatever she wanted him to know.
ÒAnd
there she is now.Ó Watkins stood as
Christine walked in. The others in
Ops—those who werenÕt currently occupied on a comm
channel—also stood.
ÒIÕm
fine. IÕm fine. Thank you. Get back to work.Ó She smiled and walked back to where he
was standing with Watkins. ÒSaul,
figures IÕd catch you loafing.Ó
ÒYou
know me, Christine. Never doing my
job.Ó He gave her a big smile. ÒSure is good to see you back.Ó
ÒDonÕt
get too used to it. Kasho wants me
to start next week.Ó
ÒShit. Barely gives me time to plan the party.Ó
Spock refrained from asking if they could not just use the food they already
had. He knew his command of party
etiquette was low even after all these years with humans.
ÒJust
make sure thereÕs meat. IÕve been
dining al vegetariano lately.Ó She smiled at Spock.
ÒThatÕll
teach you to be self sacrificing.Ó
Watkins stood. ÒCan I show
you something? ItÕs a little weird,
and I want your opinion on how I handled it. IÕm so tired I canÕt see straight right
now.Ó
She
nodded and followed him to a terminal, their heads very close together as they
worked, and Spock wondered if she would miss this camaraderie when she moved on
to KashoÕs office.
She
came back to where he was standing a few minutes later. ÒYou ready to go? Kasho gave me the rest of the day off.Ó
The
rest of the day was probably about an hour, but he decided not to point that
out, just followed her out of Ops and the building. She lived very close to Command, not
surprising, he supposed, given the hours she worked and that she was often on
call. She put him on the access
list as she palmed them in, then showed him around the modest apartment.
ÒSo,Ó
she said, as she leaned against the wall and studied him with the intent look
he was coming to know and like.
ÒWhich room do you want to sleep in?Ó
ÒYours.Ó
She
smiled. ÒWow, no hesitation.Ó
ÒDid
you think there would be?Ó He moved
closer to her. ÒHow are you
feeling?Ó
ÒIÕm
fine. For the first time, I
actually feel...human again.Ó She
smiled. ÒNot what youÕd strive for,
but IÕm happy with it.Ó
He
nodded, understanding what she was saying.
ÒWere
you going to finish getting over here or do I have to come to you.Ó
He
reached out for her, drawing her to him.
ÒOh,
the latter, huh?Ó She put her arms
around him, kissed him easily, and he could sense no fear from her.
This
was why he had not wanted to rush into sex. He wanted her to be this at ease with
him when they finally took that step.
He led her to the couch, sat and pulled her down into his lap, and
kissed her again, never pushing very hard, forcing himself to not let his hands
roam too far off her back.
She
smiled as she eased away, then cuddled against him, her head in the crook of
his shoulder. ÒNever let it be said
you canÕt kiss, Spock.Ó
ÒHas
anyone said that?Ó
She
laughed and rubbed the back of his neck, then under her hair. It was highly soothing—and also
arousing.
ÒI
received my orders for the next mission,Ó he said. ÒA trade agreement that is being negotiated
on Earth so I will not have to take a leave of absence to be with you.Ó
ÒGood.Ó She tried to get up, but he held
her. ÒArenÕt I too heavy?Ó
ÒNo.Ó He reached for her hand, put it back on
his neck. ÒPlease resume what you
were doing. It is pleasurable.Ó
ÒDo
this, do that. Same old
Spock.Ó She kissed him after she
said it, and did not stop the massage of his neck, so her words lacked any
bite.
He
closed his eyes and relaxed under her touch.
##
Chapel
woke up, found it hard to reach her pinging chrono
because Spock was spooning her, holding onto her with what felt like a deathgrip. She
finally had to elbow him gently to get him to let go so she could turn it off.
ÒDonÕt
tell me that Mister ÔI have superior hearingÕ could sleep through that?Ó
ÒI
do not want to get up.Ó He
sounded...surly?
She
turned over to look at him. He had
closed his eyes.
ÒSpock,
IÕm fairly sure this isnÕt normal for you.Ó She pressed the back of her hand to his
forehead and frowned. Even for him
his skin felt hot. ÒAre you feeling
okay?Ó
ÒIÕm
very tired.Ó
She
got up and found a scanner and ran it over him. His readings were all out of whack and
he had a slight fever. It wasnÕt
the Pon Farr, though. She didnÕt think it likely sheÕd forget
what those readings had looked like given the strange things heÕd said to her
in his quarters—words that had once been all sheÕd had to pin her hopes
on.
ÒHow
long have you been tired? You fell
asleep the other night, too. When
you said youÕd watch over me. I was
surprised youÕd do that.Ó
He
opened his eyes slightly. ÒYou are
correct, I did.Ó
ÒAnd
Watkins said he was tired, too.Ó
She sighed. ÒWell, I guess
we know whatÕs probably caused this.
Some tweakingÕs in order for those cloaking devices before we test again.Ó
ÒP.I.D.s,Ó
he mumbled and she smiled, remembering what her younger self had called them.
ÒRight. Those.Ó She nudged him until he roused. ÒI need to get you both checked out. I think all you probably need is a shot
of B12, maybe some other vitamins, but you need to come with me.Ó
ÒWhat
you say is logical.Ó He rolled over
and pulled the covers back over him.
She
left him in the bed and commed Watkins. ÒSaul, you said you were tired
yesterday.Ó
ÒDo
you ever say hello before you launch into things?Ó At her look he laughed. ÒYeah, IÕve been sleeping like crazy,
but I canÕt seem to get any rest.Ó
ÒSpock
is having similar symptoms.Ó She
waited for him to get it.
He
didnÕt disappoint her. ÒOh. Oh crap. They seemed so promising.Ó
ÒStill
are. Probably just need some tweaking. Can you stop by the lab to let Carruthers run your readings?Ó
ÒSure. SpockÕs coming in, too, I guess?Ó
ÒIf
I can get him out of bed, yes.Ó She
saw him start laughing and said, ÒShut up.
Not one damn word.Ó
ÒWho,
me? GuyÕs a catch, Christine. I wonÕt say a thing.Ó He grinned at her. ÒSee you later. Watkins out.Ó The screen went dark.
She
showered and pulled on her uniform, then went and got Spock out of bed. It took a mix of ordering and cajoling
him, but he was finally on his feet.
She called a transport to get them to Command since she didnÕt feel like
walking and didnÕt fancy a stroll with a drowsy Vulcan, and led him to the
special lab where the controllers had been made.
Watkins
was there already, hooked up to a drip that was no doubt full of things his
body desperately needed, and fast asleep.
ÒOh,
good, a Vulcan.Ó Carruthers, the techhead in
charge of the product, rubbed his hands together.
ÒReally? ThatÕs what you have to say?Ó She sat down in a chair and waited while
they worked on Spock. ÒI used it
too. But not for very long and I
didnÕt have to exert myself while I used it since he was carrying me.Ó
Carruthers walked over and scanned her. ÒYou seem okay. But from what I understand you were
injured?Ó
She
nodded.
ÒThe
treatments they gave you may have addressed the issue. ItÕs mainly neurotransmitter and
electrolyte imbalance. They might
have picked that up and thought it was from the trauma.Ó
ÒSounds
reasonable. When can I have them
back?Ó She nodded at Watkins and
Spock, both happily napping in their chairs as CarruthersÕ
solution dripped into them.
ÒFive
hours or so. I want to monitor them
for a while.Ó
She
got up. ÒThen IÕm going to
Ops. Take good care of them.Ó
ÒDonÕt
you worry on that account. Gotta figure out what part of the field did this. Watkins said they didnÕt have the
devices turned on that long. The
exertion may be a key variable.Ó He
waved her out as he went back to his readings.
On
her way back to Ops, she passed the cafeteria and decided to grab some
breakfast since sheÕd been too focused on getting Spock checked out to
eat. As she dished up more food
than sheÕd normally get, she realized she really missed TÕValaÕs
hearty Vulcan breakfasts.
She
really missed TÕVala, too. The
woman had been good to her—both versions of her.
##
Spock
woke to ChristineÕs gentle, ÒItÕs time to go.Ó
He
looked at the chrono on the wall of the lab, realized
heÕd been sleeping for seven hours.
Watkins was gone, something he found vastly annoying. His Vulcan physiology should have made
him less affected by the cloaking device, not more.
He
stood up and realized he was still very tired as he followed Christine out of
the lab and through the corridors of Command.
ÒCarruthers thinks you got a double dose because you were
carrying me while I was also using the device. That somehow the fields may have merged
in a way that exacerbated the effect.
Add to that the fact that IÕm not light.Ó She shot him a rueful smile. ÒWhole lot of trouble for one woman,
Spock.Ó
ÒYou
are worth it.Ó He tried and failed
to bite back a yawn.
ÒCome
on. I got us a transport.Ó
ÒI
can walk, Christine.Ó
ÒYes,
IÕm sure you can. But you donÕt
have to and IÕm tired after my first full day back.Ó She pushed him into the transport and
followed him in.
The
ride was short, but he found it hard to keep his eyes open.
ÒYou
were running on adrenaline and Vulcan will alone, I think,Ó she said as she
palmed open her door and led him inside.
ÒGo lie down on the couch. I
bought it because itÕs the most comfortable napping couch ever. IÕll wake you when the foodÕs ready.Ó
ÒYou
do not have to, Chr—Ó
ÒI
know I donÕt have to. But let me
take care of you, all right? YouÕve
done a bang-up job looking after me, but itÕs time to admit defeat.Ó
He
pulled her to him, could feel momentary alarm at the suddenness of the action,
then she relaxed in his arms. He
yawned again. ÒI am sorry.Ó
ÒFor
what? Being a guinea pig?Ó She kissed him gently and he deepened
the kiss without thinking about what he was doing, but she didnÕt give off any
sense of alarm, just settled in and kissed him until he let her go. ÒNice distraction technique. Now lie down before you fall down.Ó
He
went to the couch and lay down; it was a very comfortable piece of furniture. He was out in no time, woke to the smell
of food and Christine nudging him awake.
He ate without paying much attention to the food, didnÕt protest when
Christine got him up, undressed, and into bed and then took her own clothes off
and crawled in after him.
He
realized they were naked.
Together. In bed. She cuddled close to him.
ÒI
am too tired to enjoy this,Ó he said, pulling her closer.
ÒProbably
why it feels so safe.Ó She kissed
him and he was very conscious of her breasts against him. ÒGo to sleep.Ó
She
snuggled against him and ran her hand up and down his chest. Any other night he would have found that
arousing, but he was too sleepy to do anything about it.
ÒI
love you,Ó he said, pulling her closer.
ÒI
love you, too. But tell me that
again when youÕre not half asleep, all right?Ó
ÒWhenever
you want,Ó he mumbled, unsure why she thought it would matter. Then he gave in and surrendered to the
exhaustion.
##
Chapel
woke before the chrono went off, tried to figure out
why and realized Spock was kissing her.
ÒWhat time is it? Have we
slept at all?Ó
ÒIt
is an hour before your chrono is set to go off.Ó He managed to kiss her collarbone while
talking, as ever he was the best multitasker in the
quadrant. ÒI feel much better.Ó
ÒSo
I see. Carruthers
will be glad to hear his concoction worked so well.Ó
ÒIndeed.Ó He pushed her to her back and nuzzled
her neck. ÒI love you. You asked me to tell you that again.Ó
She
laughed. ÒI did, didnÕt I?Ó He was moving down from her collarbone,
to her breasts and she could feel her good mood fading, fought down a rising
sense of dread.
He
stopped what he was doing. ÒI can
feel your panic.Ó
ÒIÕm
sorry.Ó
ÒDo
not be sorry.Ó He put his fingers
on the meld points, asked softly, ÒMay I try to help?Ó
ÒYou
just want to have sex with me.Ó
ÒWhile
that is certainly true, that is not my primary motivation.Ó
ÒFine,
go ahead.Ó She felt the panic
recede as his mind flowed into hers.
She wasnÕt sure what he was doing but she felt good, she felt loved, she
felt...sexy.
She
wasnÕt sure sheÕd ever feel that again.
Sex had turned into something ugly.
He
began to kiss down her body again, and this time she relaxed as he found her
breasts, as he licked and suckled.
Whenever he went too hard, he backed off immediately, clearly able to
read everything she was feeling.
Then he worked his way back up to her lips.
ÒYouÕre
not going to try for more?Ó
ÒYou
are not ready.Ó
She reached down and encircled him with her hand. ÒBut you are.Ó
ÒAnd
I can wait until this is a mutual pleasure, Christine. We will get there. I am a man of great patience.Ó He gently covered her hand with his own
and slid it off him. ÒAre you still
tired? There is time to sleep yet.Ó
ÒKiss
me.Ó
He
did it willingly, and she could feel herself letting go of a tension she hadnÕt
been aware sheÕd been feeling until it was gone.
She
realized he really was a man of great patience. That he might wait forever for her to be
ready if she needed him to.
She
didnÕt think sheÕd need that long.
He
brushed her hair back and she snuggled into him.
ÒMaybe
I will sleep for a little bit.Ó
He
pulled the covers up and rested his lips on her cheek. She felt completely safe and let go,
lying not quite asleep, but in a hazy doze, his hand on her hip, her leg thrown
over his.
When
the chrono went off, she fixed him breakfast, then they
showered together, and she couldnÕt help but see exactly how much he wanted
her.
It
might have been scary if he werenÕt such a patient man.
ÒI
have a meeting at the Andorian embassy. I will see you tonight,Ó he said as he
pulled her in for a last kiss.
ÒIf
you get tired, come back here and sleep.Ó
ÒAye
aye, sir.Ó
ÒDoctor. IÕm still that.Ó She pulled him down for another
kiss. ÒYour personal physician.Ó
ÒI
find I am interested in other roles you might personally play.Ó
She
laughed and let him go. ÒTypical
guy.Ó
His
eyebrow cocked up and he gave her the quintessential Spock look. She conceded with a little shrug.
They
both knew he was anything but typical.
FIN