DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters
are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc and Viacom. The story contents are the
creation and property of Djinn and are copyright (c) 2009 by Djinn. This story
is Rated R.
New Girl
by Djinn
"Who is
that?" Jim asked
McCoy turned to
see who he could be looking at. Ah, Chapel,
who was walking through sickbay liked she owned it.
"Chapel. Christine.
Nurse. Was looking for her fiancé until she found out he was screwing his lab
assistant." McCoy tried to guess what had attracted Jim's interest, other
than the way she was wearing her uniform or the blonde hair or the bright blue
eyes or... Shit, he had it bad. "And her fiancé was taking credit for her
work—she's a paper short of a PhD, Jim. A paper short because her original
research found its way into his papers, so she looks like a plagiarist unless
she does more research."
"Not good. So,
which infraction ticked her off more? Being cheated out of or cheated on?"
"Not entirely
sure. Why don't you go ask her?" Not that he wanted his friend to plow a
field he'd been trying to get access to for weeks now. But he was sort of
curious to see if Jim had any better luck with her than he'd had.
"Think I
will." He grinned at McCoy, the sardonic "Here I go again" Jim
Kirk grin. "Wish me luck."
"I don't
think so."
Jim stopped and
turned. "Do I detect interest?"
"You can
detect whatever the hell you like."
"Bones, come
on. Do you want this woman? Because I'm sure I can help." He was laughing.
"Not a damn
charity case, Captain. Do just fine
on my own."
Jim held up his
hands and backed away slowly. He turned and made his way—half saunter, half
stroll—over to where Chapel was filling up hypos. McCoy moved so he could hear
the conversation.
"Hello,
there. I'm the captain."
She barely looked
at him. "Amazingly, sir, I know that."
Jim took the first
hit in stride. "Just wanted to welcome you personally. Nurse Chapel, is
it?"
"Yeah, I've
heard about that." She met his eyes. "Also
amazingly, not interested." She went back to work.
"I meant on a
professional level."
"Oh. My
mistake." Her voice was like honey and whiskey with a big dose of yellow
jacket mixed in. "Thank you, sir. Consider me sufficiently welcomed."
Jim clearly had
nothing else. He walked by McCoy and made the sound of a shuttle careening
through low atmo and then crashing. "All yours,
my friend."
McCoy walked over
to her. "Civility not in your lexicon, nurse?"
"I was civil.
I just wasn't friendly." She handed him the carton of full hypos. "Make
yourself useful, okay?"
As he walked away
to store the hypos, he quietly mimicked Jim's crash sound.
##
The planet was
bustling and smelled like a dog run on a hot Georgia day in August. McCoy
glanced over at Chapel, who was making a beeline for one of the side streets.
"Where are we
going?"
"Doctor, I
have no idea where you're going, but I'm going down here."
"I thought I
told you to call me Len, Chris." He hurried to catch up with her. Those
legs of hers that went on for miles could cover miles, too.
"I thought I
told you to call me Nurse Chapel."
"You did. I'm
notoriously difficult to train. "
"Really? How
profoundly surprising." She turned into a doorway that led down a dank
hallway.
"Do you have
any idea where you're going?"
"Yep." Three
knocks, a pause, then two more. The door cracked open. She held a wrapped
package out, and whoever was behind the door grabbed it. Then a padd was pushed
through. Chapel seemed to be checking what was on it, then nodded. "Tell
him thanks."
"Tell him
yourself," was the muffled reply as the door closed.
She stuffed the
padd into her carryall and turned, but McCoy grabbed her arm, forcing her to
face him.
"Do I want to
know what's on that?"
"My research.
Roger's research that's based on my research. And someone else's research I
plan to replicate with his permission. Do you have a problem with this?" Her
tone implied she wouldn't care if he did.
He let her go. "This
isn't the nicest place."
"Well, I'm
not the nicest girl." She left him in her dust, long legs carrying her far
away.
##
The chime on
McCoy's door came sooner than expected. She stormed in as soon as he told the
computer to open the door.
"You're an
asshole."
He laughed. "Yeah,
I am." He gestured to the chair across from him. "If you want that
extra laboratory time that I just denied, then you'll have dinner with
me."
She crossed her
arms over her chest. "This is blatant sexual harassment."
"Dinner, not
anything else. You're on my staff and you won't let me in. I have a right to
know what kind of person I'm dealing with."
"You're
right. You do." She walked over, sat down across from him, then reached
in, and hit his intercom. "Chapel to Spock."
"Spock
here."
"Sir, is that
offer of time in the lab still open?"
"Of course,
Miss Chapel. I would be most pleased to facilitate your research." There
was a long pause. "Oh, and Nyota would like to know if you are free for
lunch tomorrow."
"Tell her I'm
cheap but never free."
There was a long
silence.
"That's a
yes, Spock."
"Ah. Understood...somewhat.
The lab is free if you wish to use it now."
"Wonderful. Thank
you so much." She turned the intercom off. "Know this about me. I
don't react well to bribery. I've had one trusted adviser turn into more, and
it didn't work out so well for me. So there will be no
dinners, no drinks, no socializing, no anything. Are we clear?"
He nodded.
"You appear
to be a good doctor. I'm enjoying working in your sickbay. Let's leave it at
that, all right, Len?"
"Fine."
She got up and
left, and it took him five minutes of staring at his uneaten feast to realize
she'd finally called him by his first name.
##
"What's
this?" She was standing at the door to his office, tapping a padd.
"My research,
someone else's, too, who is amenable to letting you incorporate it into your
dissertation."
"This is very
useful."
He grinned. "That
was the idea."
She walked in,
shut the door, and sat down in the chair in front of his desk. "Why? Is
this another attempt to—"
He held up a hand.
"I was out of line with the
dinner thing. I'm sorry. I'm just...used to people opening up to me. I guess it
drives me a little nuts that you won't."
She leaned back
and sighed, and for once the wary look she always wore dropped off. "Len,
there are a lot of women on this ship who would love to be having this
conversation with you. I don't know if you're aware or not, but you're deemed
quite the catch."
"Really?"
He found himself grinning. His harpy of an ex had seriously shaken his
confidence when she'd left him.
"Really."
She picked up a paperweight he'd gotten from his father when he graduated from
med school and played with it absently. "You should set your sights on
them."
"You're
assuming I've set my sights on you?"
She put the
paperweight down and met his eyes. "I'm wounded and bitter, not
stupid."
"Right."
He looked away. "I'm a little wounded and bitter, too, you know? Jocelyn
ran me through the ringer."
"Did she
cheat on you with her lab assistant?"
"No, she
cheated on me with my lab
assistant." He shot her a rueful glance. "So
I do know how it feels." He leaned back and studied her. "She took a
lot from me. Including my daughter. So I can kind of
relate to your research problem, too. It's hell to have someone you love betray
your trust."
"Yes, it
is." She was looking down, and he realized she might be crying, so he
waited. Finally, she looked up, and he was surprised to see her eyes were dry. "I
want to go out and find him...and then kill him."
He laughed at her
tone and at the chagrined fierceness in her expression. "I'm pretty sure
Starfleet frowns upon murder."
"Yeah. Me,
too." She stood up and brushed off her uniform as if she'd been eating
something messy. "Well, then, the best I can do is not look for him. Let him rot out there."
"There you
go. Death by lack of attention."
Her grin was
bitter. "I know what that feels like. It'll do."
##
"Doctor McCoy."
Chapel collided with his chest hard, her arms twining around his neck, the
smell of twelve-year-old Scotch heavy on her breath.
"Nurse
Chapel." He tried to undo her arms—before she could tell how much this
unexpected proximity affected him—to no avail. "Chris?"
"I, Len, am
drunk." She was laughing, and it was a nice sound, would have been nicer,
though, if it hadn't been fueled by hooch.
"I can
tell." He moved her out of the way of traffic, to a quiet corner of the starbase lounge. "And you also appear to be
alone."
"Ny and Jan
were here. And it was nice and fun, but then they left, and I kept going."
She nuzzled his neck. "But now you're here, so I'm not alone
anymore."
"Damn it,
Chris. Stop it." He pushed her away, and she looked at him with a hurt
look.
"You wanted
this." She reached down, gripping a part of him that most assuredly did
want her. "See, tell me you don't want it."
"Knock it
off, nurse." He reverted to the voice he rarely had to use, and never with
her. "In this order: we're going to the ship, you're going to take some
antitox, and then you're going to sleep this off. Oh
and first, you're going to unhand me." Even if it felt so damn good to
have her touching him.
She let him go. "I
hate you. I hate you so much."
"Yeah, well
it's nothing compared to how you'd feel about me if I don't do this. Now, come
on." He pulled her after him, noticing that for once he outpaced her—those
long legs apparently didn't work so well when she was filled with alcohol.
He made them stop
at sickbay so he could load her up with antitox, and then he escorted her back
to her quarters. She walked in without a word or glance.
"Goodnight,
Chris," he said to the closing door.
##
"I'm
sorry," Chris murmured as she walked by him in the narrow corridor running
to the inventory room.
"For
what?" He tried to keep his voice casual, a "nothing happened, move
it along" voice.
She smiled, and it
was a smile full of something that wasn't bitter or defensive or any of the
things he was used to. "We both know one of the benefits—or downsides,
depending on your perspective—of antitox is no memory loss." She moved
closer. "I remember exactly what happened last night—and what didn't
happen. Thank you for both parts."
"Just doing
the right thing." He smiled gently.
"The right
thing is, in my experience, often in short supply." A quick touch on his
hand and she was gone.
"Bones? You
back here?" Jim was grinning like a fool. "You will not believe what
Starfleet has for us next." He glanced back the way he'd come. "The
ice queen: she seems warmer. She fixing her hair different or something?"
"I hadn't
noticed."
Jim's eyes
narrowed. "You sly dog, you." He laughed. "So,
how is she?'
"I wouldn't
know, Jim."
"Seriously?"
McCoy nodded.
"Hmm. Well,
this is just getting more and more interesting all the time."
"Leave it
alone." McCoy winced at how sharp his tone was with his friend—with his
captain.
But Jim didn't
take offense...or tease. He clapped McCoy softly on the arm and said, "No
problem, my friend. No problem at all."
##
A soft chime on
his door, a softer smile when he opened it to find Chris armed with a padd. "Would
you be willing to read this over? I, um...I trust your opinion."
He realized it
must be her dissertation draft. She was smiling nervously and she looked
exhausted.
"Up all night
doing this?" he asked.
She nodded.
"I'll read it
right now."
"You don't
have to. I mean, yes, you should read it, but whenever, you know, it's
convenient."
"It's
convenient right now. I'll read if you sleep."
She eyed his bed,
not very gracefully made, and nodded. "I'm beat."
He was already
sitting down at his desk as she made herself comfortable, and he forced himself
to call up the paper, to not look over at her. But soon, he found himself lost
in her work, and he was surprised when he heard her getting up, walking over,
and sitting down across from him.
"This is
great," he murmured, not even looking up. "Don't interrupt me; I'm at
a good part."
He could
practically hear her smile.
He added one thing
to the padd he'd pulled over to log his comments and then handed it to her.
She read through
it, then looked at him. "That's it?"
"It's
fantastic. I have no words."
She held up the
padd he'd given her. "Well, actually, you have twenty comments here, so
you did have words. But I expected a lot more."
"Half of
those are grammar or format things. This is excellent work, Chris. Really."
She took a deep breath.
"Thank you."
"Thank you
for letting me read it." He frowned. "Does this mean you'll be
leaving the ship once you defend this?"
"No." She
smiled broadly, and the expression lit up her face. "I actually like it
here. It does mean I won't be your nurse anymore. Spock said if he liked my
dissertation, he'd transfer me to biochem."
"Does
he?"
"Oh, I don't
know. I haven't let him read it yet." She smiled, a smile he couldn't
read.
"You let...me
read it first?"
She nodded.
"Why?"
"I don't
know. Because your research was amazing. And you found me the most incredible
source in your friend—I want to meet him, by the way."
"That can be
arranged."
"Good. So,
this was my way of saying thanks, I guess."
"Well, you're
welcome. And I'm sure Spock will love it—in his unemotional Vulcan way, of
course."
She transferred
his comments to her padd, then stood up. "I won't be working for you if I
transfer to biochem."
"Yes, I
know."
"Your little
feast was nice. Next time make it scallops instead of shrimp."
"Next
time?"
She nodded.
"Any other
issues with my menu choice?"
She laughed. "I
think you can be trusted with the rest."
"Nice to know
you think I'm good for something."
"I think
you're good for a lot of things." She leaned down and kissed his cheek. "Thank
you again, Len."
He watched her
walk out and didn't turn away until the door completely closed.
##
"I am sorry
to have stolen Lieutenant Chapel from you," Spock said as he and McCoy
worked their way through the chow line.
"I'm not. Not
sorry you promoted her, either. Well deserved."
"Her
dissertation showed a capacity for original thinking that is rare in a human. She
said some of her research was based on your work?" Spock sounded like he
clearly didn't believe this.
"That's
right."
"Fascinating."
"Oh, blow it
out your ear." McCoy gestured to where Uhura and Chris were sitting. "Shall
we join them?"
"If you are
sure your presence is welcome."
Just how much had
Chris been confiding in Spock, anyway?
"I'm sure,
you green-blooded..." He laughed at Spock's expression. "She and I
have made our peace."
"I do hope
you are right. I treasure calm."
"No
kidding?" McCoy slid into the seat next to Chris without asking.
She looked over
and smiled at him, a real smile, sweet and open and he felt his heart melt.
"Fascinating,"
Spock said as he took the seat next to Uhura.
"What
is?" Uhura looked at both of them in that sternly skeptical way she had.
"Nothing,"
they both said at once, and Chris looked down, grinning.
"You owe me a
very nice shore leave, mister," Uhura stage-whispered to Spock.
"I am aware
of that." Spock did not look upset about losing whatever bet they'd had on
McCoy and Chris.
"Can we
change the subject?" Chris said, digging into a very small salad.
"You're not
eating much." McCoy put a cookie on her tray.
She smiled. "Saving
room for that dinner you're going to make me tonight."
"Right. Tonight."
Jesus, God, it was tonight? He smiled at the other two, tried not to make it
too big a smile. "Scallops. She like scallops."
Spock and Uhura
just nodded and went back to their meals.
He felt Chris's
hand on his knee and wondered if she had any idea what she was doing to him. Then
she let go and went back to eating.
Dinner could not
come soon enough.
##
"Mmmm." Chris pushed her plate away and McCoy did, too.
"Delicious, but I have to say that while extremely tasty, the portions are
a good deal smaller than the last time you laid out a feast for me."
"Are
they?" He laughed. "It's possible I didn't want us to get
overstuffed."
"And why
would that be?"
"Perhaps
because I wanted to do this. Computer, music, playlist fourteen." A soft,
sweet melody began to play. He stood and held out his hand. "Lieutenant
Chapel, would you do me the honor of this dance?"
She rose
gracefully. "I like the way you say that."
He pulled her
close, tried and failed to control his reaction to her nearness. She wore a
light, fresh perfume. Her hair was down and looked like silk. She'd done her
eyes and worn something sexy but not cheap. "God, Chris. You look so
beautiful."
She nestled in
close. "You're not so bad yourself, Len."
They danced
through the song, then the next one, but when the next one started, she pulled
back and studied him.
"What?"
She smiled, leaned
back a little, letting him support her. Her movement put parts of her in close
proximity to parts of him, and he forced himself not to press or grind. But she
ground against him, and he yanked her up, a growl of frustration sounding
before he said between clenched teeth, "I'm trying to be a nice guy."
"You are a
nice guy, Len. You don't have to try." She ground against him again.
He pulled her to
him and kissed her hard, pushing her back toward the bed, eager to show her
that while he might be a nice guy, that didn't mean he didn't know how to have
fun. He had her clothes off in record time, and she giggled, a delightfully
young sound coming from her.
"Why, Doctor
McCoy. I seem to be underdressed." She tried to remedy that, but he pushed
her onto the bed, crawled over her, and began kissing down her body. He reached
his destination, licked and sucked and felt her tense then explode, crying out
loudly.
"Oh, holy
crap." She was breathing hard, and a deep flush covered her chest. Women
could fake an orgasm, but he had yet to meet one who could fake the post-bliss
rosiness.
She helped him out
of his clothes, pulled him down on top of her, into her, clenching and bucking
as he moved. She met his eyes, and her expression was open, pure and his and so
damn sexy.
He came as he
kissed her, as he murmured, "I love you" into her hair.
"I love you,
too," she said, as she held him in place with her strong, long legs. God
damn, he loved her legs.
And all her other
parts, too.
##
"Doctor, did
you want this over here?" Chris was looking unbearably sexy after a night
in his arms. It was all he could do not to grab her and kiss her, but he
settled for pointing at a cabinet that had not been his initial destination for
the shipment of whatever the hell she was bringing him from biochem,
just so she'd walk by him.
As she squeezed
past, she whispered, "Amateurly obvious, Len. But nice to know you're not
more practiced."
He'd been married
for years. He didn't make a practice out of dealing with a girlfriend. His
girlfriend—God, that sounded nice.
"So, what's
in the carton?"
"Absolutely
nothing," she said with a laugh. "I'd recommend, to avoid the awkward
and inevitable discovery of a carton of nothing from biochem,
that we deliver it to your office."
"Let's put
that in my office."
"Okay." She
did a creditable eye roll for the benefit of anyone watching, her commentary
about the vagaries of doctors in charge. But as soon as he closed the doors,
she was in his arms. "Just tell me I'm not keeping you from a medical
crisis."
"Darlin',
you're causing a medical crisis by pressing up against me that way."
"This
way?" She was incorrigible. He'd have to stay in this office for a while
before he'd be presentable.
"Yes, damn
it, that way." He pulled back enough that he could see her expression. "Did
you come here for something specific?"
She eyed his desk
and smiled a dreamily wicked smile.
"Well, if you
insist..." He found himself quite adept at getting just enough uniform off
both of them for this to work. He had to hold his hand over her mouth to muffle
the noise she was making at the end.
She returned the
favor, good girlfriend that she was.
"This will
wear off," she murmured. "I want to take advantage of you while I
still feel like I'll die if I don't see you."
"Never let it
be said you're not a ray of relationship sunshine, Chris." He kissed her
gently. "We'll have more, my dear. I'll promise never to screw my lab
assistant if you promise to do the same."
She laughed.
"And your
research is your research. Unless you get a hankering to write a joint
paper."
She touched his
face. "That'd be nice. Not an offer I'm used to."
"Well, get
used to it."
A chime sounded at
the door. McCoy backed away from Chris and fastened his uniform, letting her
slide down and do the same, then he straightened up his desk before telling the
computer to let whoever it was in.
Jim took one look
and shook his head in an exasperated way. "What is it that I'm doing
wrong?" But he was smiling at them both, and McCoy could tell he was happy
for them, even if his next words were, "Everyone's getting some but
me."
Chris didn't
answer, just tried to look innocent—a look that would have worked pretty well
on her if her eyes hadn't been sparkling and her hair slightly askew. Next time
he had to remember to fix her hair.
"You came
here for a reason, I assume, Jim."
"Not that
it's not a pleasure for him to see you anytime, sir," Chapel said.
"Right."
McCoy stared up at Jim. "Did you need something?"
"My chief
medical officer. On a landing team. One hour." Jim turned to Chris. "If
that's okay with you, I mean."
She smiled. "You're
the captain."
"Yes, I do
still have that." He turned to go. "Carry on, you two. Never let it
be said I stood in the way of true love."
The door closed
behind him. Chris started to laugh. "That was awkward. But less than it
might have been." She leaned down and fixed McCoy's hair. "You gave
it away, Len."
He guided her hand
to her own hair follies. "We gave it away."
She grimaced. "Next
time we'll be more careful not to muss up the hair."
"Hell with that. Next time we'll take the extra second to get
the hair right after we're done mussin'." He
pulled her down onto his lap. "Now, where were we?"
"On
duty." But she kissed him anyway.
For a long time. And
then she left him with a promise of more later and a smile that he realized
might just be his alone.
He'd come to
Starfleet with nothing. He was getting a hell of a lot more than that out of
it. Whistling happily, he grabbed his landing party gear and headed off to meet
Jim.
FIN