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) 2017 by Djinn. This story
is Rated PG-13.
Easier from Far Away
By
Djinn
The
two small caves were close enough to see each other but far enough apart that
during an ion storm the two parts of the landing party were cut off from each
other. Chapel had a feeling Spock liked
it that way. At least where she was
concerned.
She
was staring out the entrance at the latest storm with her back against the wall
as the wind whipped at her hair and created a wall of sound between the cave
and everything else.
"You
should come in." Ensign
Walters. Again.
"I'm
good."
"Here,
maybe this will tempt you to safer ground." This world's version of an apple appeared in
front of her courtesy of Lieutenant Hernandez.
At least he brought food when he wooed.
She
took it from him and mumbled thanks. If
she gave too much gratitude, he'd run with it.
Neither
cave would hold them all, so Spock had assigned her to stay with Walters and
Hernandez. On the one hand, they were
both security officers, so maybe he was looking out for her. On the other, they were young and horny as
hell, so maybe he just wanted her to get laid with someone other than himself.
Not
that she'd had sex with him. In fact,
she'd turned him down right after V'ger, and he never asked again even though
she'd made it clear she'd welcome his advances once he was free of the emotional
overload that had been the meld with the big killing machine.
Spock
had a geologist and a botanist with him.
She imagined the three of them talking science as they rode out the
storm. Imagined it enviously. She and Walters and Hernandez didn't have
much to talk about when the boys weren't trying to vie for her attention.
"Ship'll be here soon," Walters murmured.
She
made a noncommittal sound of agreement.
What? Did he think he could lock
her down before it arrived? "Both
of you get back into the cave. That's an
order." She gave them her best
"you will take your medicine" look and they retreated.
She
shifted and saw movement at Spock's cave, realized someone was sitting near the
opening. Her communicator buzzed and she
looked down in surprise. Normally voice
comms were garbled during these storms.
Voice
comms still seemed to be. But a message
showed up. You are all right?
She
tried to make out who was sitting at the cave entrance. The person shifted and she saw it was Spock
so she sent back: You singular or you
plural? It was an outstandingly
unprofessional reply if he was checking on all three of them, but she didn't
think he'd normally phrase a status report request in quite that way.
Both.
She
smiled at the answer. We are fine.
I am annoyed. Really? She was going to tell him that?
Yeah,
yeah she was.
She sent the message.
What is the source
of your annoyance?
Are we on a
private channel? If they were, nothing they wrote would be
logged for posterity.
We are.
In that case, you
are.
I see.
She
waited for more. There wasn't any. She peeked out as much as was possible but
didn't see another person in the entrance distracting him, so she just waited.
And
waited.
Finally,
her communicator buzzed again. Should I ask why?
Only if you really
want to know.
Logical.
I can be.
So I see.
And
again radio silence hit. She wondered if "I see" was the
kiss of death to conversations with Vulcans.
Shifting so she was more comfortable, she bit into the fruit and sighed
happily. Hernandez was a good provider,
if a little too young for her taste.
And
way too emotionally available.
Her
communicator buzzed. She thought Spock could see she was eating. She ignored the message.
Buzz.
Buzz.
Buzz.
She
started to laugh and finished the fruit, tossing it down the hill where some
critter could eat it—or maybe it would start a tree. She could be this world's Johnny Appleseed.
She
wiped her hands on her uniform and picked up the communicator.
I am unsure what I
have done to annoy you.
Unless you are
irritated that I have not followed up my request.
Which, given you
are not answering, perhaps you are.
If I have done
something else that annoys you, it would be helpful if you could enlighten me.
She
keyed in: Had juice on my hands. Sorry. And yeah, that's why. Guess I was wise to
say no.
That is a leap in
logic that may be unwarranted.
Which means it may
not be. Let him chew on that. She laughed as she watched him; he was
staring down at the communicator as if formulating his next move in this verbal
chess game.
Finally,
he keyed something in. I have regretted approaching you the way I
did.
Regretted that you
did it or when you did it?
The latter. You were wise. I should have waited until I was free of V'ger's influence.
Are you free of it
now? Were you afraid you might ask again
if I was in your cave? Is that why you stuck me over here with Testosterone One
and Testosterone Two?
He
looked up suddenly, as if he was alarmed.
Relax. I'm tougher than they are. But seriously?
It seemed an
efficient division of our team at the time.
Sure. Yeah.
God forbid you get stuck with me and have to talk. She hated that she
sent the message before she could take that last part back.
Are we not talking
now? He looked up and tilted his head as
if waiting for her answer, so she nodded.
Another
buzz. Is this not the longest personal conversation we have had? Again he looked
up.
She
nodded. Then she keyed in: Do you even like me?
I do not know you
well enough to say. Would you disagree
with that?
No,
damn his logical eyes, she wouldn't. She
shifted to get more comfortable. I guess we're doomed.
A radical leap
from a to b.
She
laughed. He was funny? She looked up and thought he looked pretty
proud of himself. Even Vulcan ears
couldn't have heard her over the storm, but he'd probably seen her laugh. She let herself
smile at him—a real smile—and he didn't look away.
He
didn't grin back, but she didn't expect miracles.
What kind of food
do you like? Other than Plomeek
soup? She pretended to duck and was
rewarded with what looked like a smile—or the Vulcan version of one.
I could tell you,
but would it not be more enjoyable to discover that for yourself?
I'm not cooking
for you.
I did not assume
you would. I meant that we might share
meals. The mess offers food from many
cultures.
Are you asking me
out on a date?
No.
She
looked up to glare at him. He was
watching her intently. Then he keyed in
something.
I am asking you on
several.
Oh. She stared across the gap at him.
Are you accepting?
The first
one. We'll see how you do before I
accept more than one. She stuck her
tongue out at him.
Most mature.
Better
reconsider. This is what you're getting.
I do not wish to
reconsider. He looked over, his eyes intense.
She
forgot how to breathe for a moment: he was making some fantasies come true just
by looking at her that way. What do you wish?
That I had not
been so efficient when dividing our team.
She
grinned at him. It was an astoundingly stupid move if being with me is a goal.
Agreed. However, perhaps not. Witness this
conversation. I am finding it both frustrating and effective.
I am too.
I will remember
this as an intriguing communication means in the future.
Oh, you think I'll
be yakking it up with you in the future?
She
laughed as she wrote it and looked up to see his lips move into an impromptu
almost-smile.
He
stared at her for a very long time. Then
sent: I do think that.
She
hated looking away from him—holy shit, the boy could stare piercingly with the
best of them—but forced herself to type in: Well,
just so we're clear on that.
I take it you have
no objections?
She
grinned as she typed: Not a single one.
FIN