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) 2004 by Djinn. This story is Rated PG-13.
Scientist
by Djinn
The air is brisk as Christine
leaves the lab for the walk home. She
pulls her coat around her more securely, wishing the anger she feels inside
could warm her outside.
"Hey!" David runs out behind her, ignoring the new
guard who tells him to slow down--the old guards will fill him in soon enough
on not trying to fetter the creative element.
"Christine, wait."
She walks faster. She is tired.
So tired of arguing with him. He is determined to use the protomatter. And she has run out of other options.
Two years ago, she was as hot
to try it out as he is. Two years ago,
she wasn't lying to Jim every time he tries to ask her about work--as well as
every time it never even occurs to him to ask about his son. She sees his son every damn day, and he
doesn't even know it.
It doesn't help that Jim seems more miserable in his own Earthbound
job with every day that passes. He hates
that part of his life, and the rest of it she is wrecking all on her own.
David catches up to her. "Christine. Stop.
Please."
She turns to him, but doesn't
stop walking. It's too cold to stand
outside and argue. She shivers, pulls the
stupidly ineffectual regulation jacket she grabbed that morning around her.
"Come on. Let's get some coffee and talk where it's
warm." He takes her arm, steers her
toward a nearby coffeehouse.
She yanks her arm away. "I don't want coffee, David. I want to go home."
He takes her hand, gives her
the pleading look that is half Jim and half some terrible tempter out of myth. Loki, she decided long ago. David is Loki.
He moves his other hand
underneath hers, trapping hers as he chafes it softly. "Please?
Christine, I need you." He
is leaning in, his look intense.
He can turn intellectual
conversation into seduction. Even if he
has absolutely no interest in her that way, he still can use his father's charm
to get what he wants.
She lets him pull her
inside. He orders for her and carries
the drinks to a secluded table.
"I know you're angry
with me," he says. "But we've
tried everything else. It's time to bite
the bullet."
She doesn't answer.
"I don't understand your
attitude, Christine. You want this as
much as I do. You're as eager to test
out your theories as I am. I know you
are. So what is the problem?" He leans in.
"I can't believe you're letting your personal life get in the way
of this."
"Stay
out of my personal life," she says, only barely stopping herself from
adding, "And your father's."
"Okay." He holds up his hands. "Christine, I need to know you won't
fight me on this. Mother cannot know
what we are planning."
She doesn't answer. He knows she won't tell Carol. There is no way she won't be blamed just as
much as David. In this case, it
definitely takes two to tango with protomatter.
He shakes his head. "We're not doing anything wrong. When this is over, history will laud
us."
She is tired. Too tired to fight him. She wishes she never accepted his offer,
never gave in to his charm. Her hubris
was matched only by her stupidity--did she really think that she could keep
this from Jim and not pay some kind of price?
Lies fester. Even if the person being lied to doesn't
suspect they don't know the truth. The
liar knows. And she pays for being false
in every other aspect of her life with the person she has wronged.
Christine has been paying for
some time now. The worst part is that she's
started to close her eyes when she and Jim make love. She can't bear for him to see what lies
inside her. What lies lie inside her.
She sighs.
What difference does it make
anymore? But for her work on the
project, David wouldn't even be at a stage to use protomatter. She made it possible for him to harness the
damned stuff; she should see this out.
David suddenly looks over at
the window.
"What's wrong?"
"I thought someone was
there. Watching
us."
She closes her eyes. He's
getting paranoid, she's getting neurotic.
If they're not doing anything wrong, why are they both so jumpy?
She gets up, her coffee
mostly untouched. "I have to get
home."
"But you'll be back
tomorrow?"
She nods. She'll be back. She'll probably always be back. The siren song of this young genius and her
own curiosity are too strong to resist.
Even though she knows she
should resist. Should just tell him and his
mother to go to hell and let them finish Genesis on their own.
"Christine. It's going to be all right. You'll see."
She turns and leaves, walking
home as quickly as she can. Jim isn't
there when she arrives. She hangs her
coat up and wanders the rooms of their apartment, touching the things they've
bought together since they moved back to Earth.
So much shared property, so many shared memories.
And they are supposed to get
married in a few months. That thought
used to make her ecstatic. Now it just
feels like the lies are closing in more.
She laughs at herself. Does she really think this will get worse
when they are married?
How can it possibly get any
worse?
She hears the front door
open, walks back out to the main room.
Jim is hanging up his coat, he doesn't turn to
look at her.
"Hi." She moves to him, wrapping her arms around
him. "Long
day?"
He nods.
"Jim?"
He turns, stares at her. "You'd tell me if you were unhappy,
wouldn't you?"
"If I
were unhappy with what?"
He shrugs. "With anything. Work. Us."
"Sure. Why? Are
you trying to tell me that you're sick of us?" She grins, wants to turn it into a joke. She doesn't like how sad he seems or how hard
his eyes are.
Work must have really been bad today. He
has never come home like this before.
"No. I'm not." He seems disappointed in her answer, moves
away and pours himself a drink.
She watches him, realizes she
is still cold and wraps her arms around herself.
He glances over, his
expression becomes even harder.
"Jim? What is it?"
"Nothing. It's been a
bad day. Didn't end
well." He stalks off toward
his study.
She watches him go. Feels another crack creeping
down between them. If love is a
bridge, then this one is quickly becoming structurally unsound.
And she knows that most of
that is her fault. Lies fester.
She's an idiot.
She's also trapped by her own
ambitions. Ambitions she didn't even
know she had before Genesis.
She debates going into his
study but then she hears the music start up.
Old jazz, the kind he loves and she doesn't. The message couldn't be clearer: "Stay away. I don't want you."
She sighs. She's not hungry, just cold. She decides to go to bed and warm up there.
She wonders if he'll join her
before she falls asleep.
He doesn't.
---------------------------
"Christine, you seem
particularly distracted tonight."
Spock is looking down at the Ka'Vareth board.
It's true. She's made a mess of the game. Almost as much as she's made a mess of her
life.
She pushes her chair back,
tips one of the pieces over.
"It is premature to
admit defeat."
"What are the odds that
I'll win?"
"Approximately one
thousand three hundred to one, given the way you are playing."
"Well, there you
go." She gets up, walks over to the
window, looking for Jim.
She can smell the food; it's
almost ready. Where the hell is
Jim? He knew Spock was coming over for
dinner.
"You can trust me,
Christine. If there is a problem, I would
like to help."
"It doesn't concern
you," she says more sharply than she means to.
"Of
course. My apologies for
intruding." He turns away.
She thinks she's actually
hurt his feelings. "No. I'm sorry.
That was rude." She turns
away from the window. "It's just a
rough patch right now. That's
all."
She and Jim will be fine.
She just needs to keep
telling herself that.
Believing it might be a good
start too.
She looks back out the
window, sees Jim. He's got Admiral
Cartwright in tow. She sighs. He didn't tell her he was bringing Matthew. Fortunately, she's cooked too much food.
In the old days, he would
have told her.
In the old days, they
actually talked.
He and Matthew barrel into
the apartment, laughing. Jim's smile
fades a bit when he sees her.
That hurts.
But it's only fair. She can feel her own expression tighten as
she looks at him.
She senses Spock is missing
nothing. She is not sure how much of
this Matthew is picking up.
She moves to the kitchen,
gets the food ready. Matthew helps her,
like he always does.
"Sure smells good, Christine." He grins at her.
"Thanks." She tries to relax, figures she will if she
has a few more glasses of wine.
As if he can read her mind,
Jim is handing her a glass of red. He's
making short work of his own Scotch.
Great. If this keeps
up, they'll be lushes as well as strangers.
Dinner isn't as painful as it
would be if it were just Jim and her.
Matthew and Spock are keeping the conversation going with tales of the cadets. Jim is smiling, but he doesn't chime in, even
though she knows he must have a few funny cadet stories of his own.
Not surprisingly, she is
afraid to share any funny Genesis-in-the-making stories. She's sure she'll slip up, mention Carol or
David or something restricted.
Jim and the others never ask
her about her work. They all know she's
working on something very sensitive.
They all understand that even though they might be cleared for it, that
doesn't mean they need to know about it.
They're all good officers that way.
It makes it easier to lie to
them.
She knows she could talk
about things more than she does. She
could complain about the idiosyncrasies of her coworkers or talk about problems
in general. It's what her colleagues do
at home. But she's just as afraid that
she'll accidentally mention protomatter as she is about outing her relationship
with Jim's estranged ex-girlfriend and son.
She knows it's her own guilt making her act so tightlipped. But knowing why she is doing it doesn't make
it any easier to stop.
After dinner, Spock tries to
help her clean up, but she shoos him out of the kitchen. She can hear the three of them out in the
living room. They sound much more
relaxed.
She hates to think it is
because she isn't there.
She knows it might be exactly
because of that.
When she's done cleaning up,
she goes to her study instead of joining them.
She finds it hard to concentrate on anything, finally gives up and
stares out the window at what looks like a gathering storm on the horizon.
"You okay?" Jim is standing at the doorway, watching her.
She nods.
"They left. You didn't come out."
"I wasn't in the
mood. Sorry."
He sighs, steps farther into
the room. "Chris, we need to
talk. I can't stand this."
"So talk."
His face tightens. The flip answer was definitely not the best.
"I'm sorry, Jim. I'm just tired."
"You're tired a
lot."
He's right. She uses it as an excuse for everything. Even for sex lately. She's found that sex is just too much of a connection
right now. It is getting too hard to
hide the truth.
But she wants sex. She wants him. She wants to push him up against the wall
right now. She wants him to grab her and
kiss her and force her to tell him the truth about Genesis and David and Carol.
It's the only way he's going
to find out.
"I know you're having an
affair."
Her jaw drops. He knows what?
"I saw you--" he
swallows hard "--and him. The other day at that coffee place near your office. Who is he?"
"You were spying on
me?"
"I came by to surprise
you. I was going to take you out to
dinner."
"Oh." She stares at him, unsure what to say. Of all the conclusions he could have leapt
to, this is the last one she saw coming.
"So. How long has
this been going on?"
"Jim, I know how it must
have looked, but that's not what you saw.
He's just a friend. From work."
"Didn't look like just a
friend. Your conversation looked like
life or death to me." He smiles
bitterly. "I'm familiar with how
intense you can be. This was definitely
you upset."
She moves toward him, but he
shies away. "You're right,
Jim. I was upset. But it was just a work issue. Something in the project that he and I
disagreed on."
"Really?" He looks far
from convinced.
"Really."
He moves closer. "Then you won't mind if I talk to
him. Ask him myself?" He steps forward, grabs her arms. "Who is he, Chris?"
She can feel her face go
white. "Jim. I can't tell you that."
"Somehow, that's exactly
what I figured you'd say." He lets
go of her, starts out of the room. But
he turns at the door. "You still planning on going to Harry's this weekend?"
She nods. She's been looking forward to seeing the
ranch ever since Jim's uncle told them about it at dinner the last time he was
in town.
"Well, don't. I need some time alone." His eyes are cold. Colder than she's ever seen
them. "You stay here. With your 'friend.'"
"Jim. No."
She reaches out for him.
"Don't do this."
"Then tell me the truth,
dammit!"
Her hand drops. "I am telling you the truth." The falseness of that statement rings between
them.
"No. You aren't." He turns on his heel and walks out. She hears the door close to his study; the
jazz starts up.
He doesn't come out all
night.
---------------------------------
The apartment seems
particularly empty with Jim gone. He's
back in
He never asked her if she
wanted to come.
Christine roams the apartment
like a caged animal, pacing back and forth as if she has been locked inside her
own home.
The comm unit rings and she
races to it. Maybe it's him. Maybe he's missing her and wants her to come.
It's Harry.
"Hi," she says
uncertainly.
"Hello,
Christine." He looks over his
shoulder, as if afraid he's going to get caught taking to her.
"Something
wrong?"
"Well, something must
be. You sure as hell aren't here, now
are you?"
She looks down. "I'd like to be."
"Then hop the nearest
transporter and get your rear end up here." He glares at her. He's not kidding around.
"I would. But--" She looks down. She doesn't want to tell Jim's uncle that his
nephew would rather not see his fiancee.
They've postponed the
marriage again. She supposes she should
be grateful it's an informal thing.
Easily scheduled and rescheduled.
Because they've been postponing it ever since they left
the ship. Probably about the
minute Jim started to sense she was keeping something from him, and she started
to pull back because of all the lies she was telling.
"Christine, Jim'll kill me if he finds out I called you. But you need to get up here. I don't know what's going on between the two
of you, but..." He sighs. "Oh hell, look, I've got a houseguest
right now. Sweet
thing. Daughter
of a friend. Real
looker. Do you see the damn
problem?"
She closes her eyes. Nods.
"Do you care?"
"Of course I care. It's just not that simple."
"They're getting on real
well, girl. See my houseguest is just
back on Earth after a bad breakup. I'm
thinking she could use some comforting.
I'm also thinking Jim seems awfully eager to be the one giving that
comfort. You better get up here if you
want to keep him."
He's cheating on her
now. It's only fair--in his mind
anyway. She hasn't given him any reason
to think she's not cheating.
"Christine. Get up here."
"Okay." She feels something fill her. Resolve.
Anger. Guilt. Everything.
The man she loves may soon be
out of reach, and it's her fault.
But she can fix this. She can stop this.
She hurries out of the
apartment, practically runs to the transporter station. Somehow manages to talk the tech into beaming
her directly to the ranch. She hurries
to the house, knocks loudly.
Harry answers. "Good, you're here. He's in the barn."
She doesn't wait, starts to
run and then sees Jim come out. She
realizes she is crying. No wonder the
tech took pity on her.
Jim starts walking toward
her, as he gets closer he sees she is crying and begins to hurry. "Chris, what's wrong?"
She throws herself into his
arms. Tries to talk but is crying too
hard.
"What's happened? Did someone get hurt?"
She pulls away. "No.
I'm sorry."
She sees a woman come out of
the barn, can't tell much about her except she looks pretty--and young. The woman watches them.
"Is that her?"
He doesn't look back. "That's Antonia. She's staying with my uncle until she gets
settled." His eyes narrow. "Did Harry call you?"
She looks down. She can't even protect Harry. She hates lying. "Yes," she says. "He did."
No more lies. That's what her new policy will be.
No more goddamn lies.
"I'm going to kill
him."
"Don't. He's just worried about you. About us."
"Chris, I'm not sure
there's an us to worry about anymore." He sighs.
"What the hell happened? We
were so happy."
She nods. "It's this project, Jim. I hate the secrecy. I'm going to transfer out. I'll tell them that. We're at a transition point, it's the perfect
time. I don't care about it
anymore. I just don't want to lose
you." She looks down. "Do you even love me anymore?"
"Oh,
Chris." He pulls her close, his arms tight. His voice is more gentle
than it has been for months. "Of
course I love you."
She sees Antonia go back into
the barn. "I'm not gonna ask you if you slept with her." She knows that might make it look like she
did sleep with David, but she doesn't care.
She just wants to start fresh.
With no more lies.
"I--"
She touches his lips with her
fingers. "I don't want to
know. Everything else is in the
past. No more secrets. And no lies. From this moment on. All right?" She strokes his face. "I love you. I don't want anything to come between
us."
She kisses him, feels him
hesitate and kisses him with more passion until he responds, and his arms
tighten around her.
"Do you have a bedroom
here?" she asks.
"We have a perfectly good
bedroom in our apartment. Let's go back
there now." He looks guilty
suddenly, and it hits her like a punch to the gut.
He did sleep with
Antonia. He doesn't want to sleep with
Christine in the same room.
Is it because he doesn't want
to hurt her? Or
because he doesn't want to hurt Antonia?
"You want a ride into
town?" Harry calls from the front porch.
"We're going to have
words, old man." Jim glares at him.
"That doesn't answer my
question. Should I go
fire up the flitter or not?"
"Yes," she answers
for both of them. "Please."
Harry smiles and walks away,
returns a moment later in the small flitter.
They climb in; the ride to town is silent, but Jim keeps squeezing her
hand, and she keeps looking over at him as if to reassure herself that he is
really coming home with her.
"Next time I see you,
Christine, I hope you can stay a while," Harry says as they climb out of
the flitter.
"Me
too." She smiles at him. "Thank you."
He nods solemnly. "Just as long as
everything turned out okay. That
way, I won't have to get mad that you went and told him I called you."
"Sorry. I'm a bad liar." If only that were true.
She follows Jim into the
station, waits with him in line. He
holds her hand. But there is something
in his face, some sort of sadness she doesn't like.
Just how much does he feel
for this other woman? Does he love
Antonia?
"If you want to turn
around, I'm sure she'll still be there."
It is a stupid thing to say, but it is the only thing to say. Sometimes you have to be brave and face
things head on.
But her heart breaks a little as she says it.
He hesitates a moment too
long.
She pulls away. "Look.
Just go back then."
He doesn't move. "It's not like that."
"Then what is it
like?"
"It's just that I'm not
sure we can be saved."
She feels all expression die
on her face. They're terminal? As a doctor, she knows it's all over the
moment she gives up on a patient living.
That is unless the patient
has other ideas.
"We can be. I know it." She takes his hand. "We were happy."
"Past
tense."
"We will be happy. Future tense."
He smiles slightly. The tech motions
them forward and he doesn't seem to hesitate.
She steps up too, gives the man the station they want.
The walk to their apartment
is short, the elevator ride even shorter.
Their apartment seems so cold, so empty.
He sighs as they walk in,
turns to her. "At least keep your
goddamned eyes open. I don't want to
have to wonder if you're pretending I'm some younger man."
She looks down. It never occurred to her that David's age
would be a factor in this. But Jim has been
touchy about his final approach to fifty.
She's not sure why--he's as vital as ever.
"You're the only one I
see," she says, as she moves into his arms.
He kisses her, tentatively at
first, then with more passion. They
don't bother getting to the bedroom, fall down on the couch and make love with
the old intensity.
She is careful to keep her
eyes open.
She notices he does not call
her name out, wonders if he is afraid to call out any name in case it is the
wrong one.
As they lie together afterwards,
there is something missing between them.
The sex was good, their kisses now are sweet.
But the trust is gone. On both their parts.
She hopes not forever.
"You're sure you don't
mind being hostess for this dog and pony show?" Carol is bustling around her office, getting
ready to go check out the site for stage two.
Christine hasn't been told where it will be--she's found that
information on future stages of the project are off limits to her since she
told Carol she was leaving.
And people seem to be
watching what they say around her.
It's okay. She doesn't need to know anymore. Not if she's leaving.
Carol looks over at her. "It's just a couple of admirals. I guess that's the peril of having such a
sexy project. We're constantly playing
tour guide."
David doesn't play guide
often, mainly because he invariably loses patience with the visitors. They're never as smart as he is.
Fortunately, David is going with his mother.
Christine won't have to worry about what he might say to the brass.
"Thank you for being so
understanding about my leaving," Christine says.
"I know it's been hard
to lie to Jim. I hope you realize how vital
your silence has been to the project's success?"
Christine nods. Although she
thinks her silence has been more vital for keeping Jim away from David than for
the sanctity of Carol's precious project.
Carol gives her a look that
seems almost envious. "You're doing
what you have to do to preserve something you believe in. I understand that. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened
if I had fought harder for Jim."
She looks away, then she looks back. "I don't like that you're leaving
though. David needs you,
Christine."
She nods unhappily. She knows he needs her; she is his conscience. She's worried that he may not have one of his
own.
"There will always be a
place for you here, Christine. I want
you to know that."
She nods, touched at Carol's
warmth. She and Jim's old flame have
never been close. But Carol treats her
well. Probably because
David and Christine have been joined at the hip since she came on board. And because they've gotten
such amazing results.
David was right. The protomatter was the answer. It is the sole reason they are moving onto
stage two. It is the reason they are
ready.
She sighs. A part of her would like to see this out.
But that part isn't in charge
anymore.
"Good luck with the
tour," Carol says as David walks in.
"Ready, kiddo?"
"Ready." He smiles at Carol. Sometimes Christine thinks his relationship
with his mother is unhealthily close, might be worried if she didn't know that
David preferred men. It was what made
Jim's worries so silly. Not that she
could tell him that.
Soon, she wouldn't have to
worry about it. Soon she'd be free of
this project and the wedge it had put up between Jim and her.
She follows Carol and David
out, veers off before the main entrance and goes to her office. She has a lot to do before the visitors arrive. And more to do after that
if she wants to get home at a decent hour.
And she does want to. Things with Jim are better, but they are
still so tentative around each other.
She knows that only time spent together rebuilding the connection they've
lost will make them more at ease.
And spending time with him is
no hardship. Having sex repeatedly as a
temperature check isn't bad either.
She forces herself to stop
thinking of Jim, and finish transitioning her work. David has all her notes on protomatter, but
there are other parts of her work that she can share with the rest of the
team. It's just a matter of organizing the
information.
A few hours later, she has
them ready to go. Tomorrow she can
finish up any miscellaneous files, visit the security office to be debriefed,
and then she will be free. Finally.
She will also be out of a
job. So far, Starfleet Medical seems to
have forgotten about her--or at least they're not beating down the doors with
her next assignment. Then again, they
might not know where the Genesis doors are.
She will be so glad to get
back to Starfleet proper.
"Doctor Chapel?" One of the other scientists looks in.
She imagines that when he
calls her "Doctor," he is probably more interested in her biochem doctorate than in her M.D.
"Our admirals are
here." He manages to put a sneer
into the titles. David's dislike of all
things military has rubbed off on too many of her colleagues, but she can't get
him to moderate his hostility, even to set a better example.
What does he care about what
kind of example he sets? Other than intellectually--he loves being the exemplar in that.
"Starfleet is the one
paying our bills. We should all remember
that."
"You're Starfleet, so I'd
expect you to say that." He walks
out.
She sighs as she gets
up. She is one of the few Starfleet
here. Carol has been astoundingly
successful at keeping the military out. Other than those she and David
particularly wanted on the project.
There are so many days when
Christine wishes she wasn't one of those chosen few.
She sees that the lights in
the conference room are on. The admirals
will be waiting for her. She has filled
in before on these little tours. Enjoys them actually.
Interacting with the brass and selling the project as best she can to
those who have a layman's grasp at best of the science behind the sexy premise
is fun.
She walks into the room and
forgets how to breathe.
Jim is one of the
admirals. She can't even take in who the
other is. Just stares at Jim as he looks
up and immediately goes white, then his face begins to turn red.
Rage. She is looking
at rage.
Somehow he manages to
speak. "I didn't realize you were
involved in Carol's project, Commander."
She nods. The other admiral looks at her strangely.
"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" Jim stands up. "We're here for a tour. Give us one."
The other admiral looks at
him sharply. Jim's words and tone are
rude. No other word for it.
The other admiral doesn't
have any idea what he's just wandered into.
She swallows hard. "I'm not the most qualified to give the
tour. Perhaps another one of the scientists could---"
"--No,
Chris. I want you to give us the tour."
She somehow nods. "This way then."
Jim seems to settle down as
she takes them through the history of the project. But Carol told her that Jim knew about
Genesis, at least in concept. Carol was
working on it even back when they were together.
"And which section do
you specialize in, Commander?" the other admiral asks, probably hoping to
keep them on safe ground.
"Chris is a biochem specialist.
That would be David Marcus's section, wouldn't it?"
She nods.
"And does he happen to
have curly blonde hair? I think I caught
a glimpse of him once through a window, but his back was to me. I may be mistaken." His eyes are unforgiving.
"No. You're not mistaken."
"I'm sure working
together must be exhilarating? Must give
you so much in common?" His tone is
easy, as if he's just making conversation, but his eyes are angrier than she
has ever seen them.
"We're friends."
"Close friends, I
imagine."
"Not that
close. We just work
together."
"Ah." He looks over at the other admiral. "Enough small talk,
right, Pete? We should let
Commander Chapel get back to her work."
The other admiral nods.
A sick feeling is roiling up
from Christine's stomach. She thinks she
might throw up or pass out. Instead she
reaches out, touches Jim's arm.
He jerks it away.
The other admiral doesn't
notice. Just heads for the
entrance. One of the guards lets him
out.
"Don't go, Jim. We need to talk."
"You had an affair with
my son. May still be
having one with him. How much
talk is necessary?"
"I wasn't involved with
him."
He's not listening to
her. "My son,
Chris? That's sick."
"I swear to you. I did not sleep with him."
"Clever answer since you sleep with me every night. Did you have sex with him though?"
"No." She touches his arm again.
This time he looks down at
her fingers, then slowly raises his head.
"Don't do that again."
She has never been afraid of
him.
Not until now.
She pulls her fingers away.
"I should have told you
I was working with David and Carol."
"Yes, you should
have. Why didn't you?"
She looks down. She's been trying to figure that out for too
long. "It was because of the pro--"
She swallows the rest of the word. He already thinks she is unfaithful,
does she want to add unethical and insane to the list? "I made a mistake."
"You said no more
lies."
"I'm leaving the project
tomorrow. There won't be any more lies
after I'm gone."
He just shakes his head. "Stay on the project, Chris. Stay with David. Because you're sure as hell
not staying with me."
He turns on his heel and
strides out. The guard sees his face and
has the door open for him long before he gets there.
She feels as if she might
faint, grabs the nearest piece of furniture for support and tries to figure out
what to do.
She wants to run after him,
but she knows he is too angry to listen to her.
But tonight...she'll go home tonight and talk to him. When he's calmer.
She has a plan. Now if she could just remember how to
breathe.
------------------
Jim is packing when she gets
home. It's taken her the whole day to
calm down and figure out what to do, how to make this right.
"I didn't sleep with
him."
He just nods. Not as if he believes her, more as if he is
too tired to fight about it.
"I know how I can prove
it."
He turns to look at her.
"Spock. Let's go to his apartment. Now."
"A
mind meld?"
She nods. She knows Spock will be able to tell that she
never cheated on Jim.
It suddenly occurs to her that he might find out about the protomatter. Can she shield well enough to keep him from
seeing that?
This is insane. She can't let him into her mind. He can't find out.
But Jim doesn't know that
she's changed her mind. Maybe just her willingness to let Spock meld with her
will be enough?
"All
right. I believe you. You didn't sleep with him." He goes back to packing.
"You're still
leaving?"
He nods.
"But I didn't cheat on
you."
He turns to her. "Well, that's too bad because I cheated
on you."
She swallows. "I know.
I forgive you."
"You forgive
me?" He laughs,
a terribly bitter laugh. "You
forgive me?" He drops the shirt he
is folding, strides over to her.
The look on his face makes
her take a step back, then another. The third step back lands her against the
doorjamb.
"Where the hell do you
get off forgiving me? You've been
getting to know my son ever since we got back and you never told me. You never even hinted. And you forgive me?" He turns and walks back to the bed. "Carol at least was upfront about
keeping him away from me. But
you..." There is complete disgust
in his voice.
"Jim."
"What the hell is wrong
with you, Chris? What were you
thinking?" He seems to sag. "How can I ever trust you again?"
"Jim, it was
just..." She doesn't know what it
just was. She's been stupid. So damn stupid not to tell him. She sees that now. But she couldn't tell him because he would
have found out about the protomatter...
It always comes down to that
damn protomatter.
Her own
private apple in the garden.
She turns and walks out to
the living room, slumps into the nearest chair.
He's leaving her, and there's not a thing she can do to stop it.
Walking out, he sits down
across from her. "Things haven't
been good for a while now."
"I know." She can't meet his eyes.
"I think I'd almost
prefer it if you were in love with someone else. Then I'd understand it. Why you kept him to yourself."
She looks up at him. She's not crying. She feels too numb to cry.
This is all her fault. That keeps ringing through her head. This is all her fault.
"Don't go, Jim."
"I have to. I can't stay here. I hate it here. I have since we got back."
It takes her a moment to
realize that he means
"You're
transferring?"
"I'm retiring." He laughs bitterly again. "I have retired. Effective today, I am gone."
"Where will you
go?" She sees his face
tighten. "You're going back to
He doesn't look at her, just
nods.
It stings. Hurts almost more than she
can stand. He's going back to
that other woman. Antonia.
"How do you know she'll
take you back? You didn't even say
goodbye when you left."
"I said goodbye later." He looks up at her.
"Oh." She thought he'd cut all ties with
Antonia.
She was an idiot.
"And she's waiting for
you now?"
He nods again.
"At least say goodbye to
Spock."
"I have. He knows where
I'll be."
She realizes he doesn't just mean
Spock knows where Jim will be,
but Jim's not going to tell her.
She looks down. "It's really over then."
"Yes, it really is." He gets up, walks back into the bedroom. A few minutes later, he comes out with his
bag. "I'll send for the rest of my
stuff."
She nods.
He stares at her for a
moment, his expression unreadable.
She blinks back tears,
clenches her teeth so she won't say she loves him.
He doesn't care anyway.
"Goodbye," she says
finally.
He nods, then walks out of
the apartment.
And out of her life.
Forever.
-----------------------
Christine looks around her
office one last time. She doesn't need
to leave now that the rest of her life has fallen apart. But she can't stay. Not any longer. She can't undo the lies, and she can't undo
her part in whatever comes of using protomatter. But she doesn't have to stay to make it
worse.
Her comm unit buzzes and she
turns it on audio only. She looks like
shit from crying all night.
"Christine?" It is Carol.
Christine hits the video.
"Oh,
my." Carol winces.
"I'm sorry. I truly
am."
"You're sorry for
setting me up? Or you're sorry that Jim
left me?"
Carol makes a face. "Both?" She leans forward, a tentative smile on her
face. "I did it for you."
"You did it for
you. For the
project."
Carol doesn't look away. "And for David. He needs you, Christine." She sighs.
"I meant it when I said there would always be a place for you
here."
"Thanks, but I'm
leaving."
Carol looks stunned.
"You thought I'd stay
here after you ruined my life?"
"I didn't ruin your
life, Christine. It feels like that now,
I know. I've been there. But you'll get over it. I promise you--you'll get over him."
"No, Carol. I
won't." She starts to pack the few
things that actually belong to her.
"He'll have someone else
in no time, Christine. That's how much
you mean to him."
Christine turns around,
glares angrily at this woman who knows nothing about Jim. "He already does. And do you know why? Because of all the lies. Because he thought I was having an affair
first."
Carol leans in. "Christine. He would have had a new one no matter
what. That's how he is."
"No. It's not how he is. I know him.
I know what he's like. He loved
me. He would have been
faithful." She slams her desk
drawer shut. "I expect good
references from you."
"Stay and you'll get
them. I'm not making any promises if you
leave."
"Screw me over again,
and I'll tell David who his father is."
"You wouldn't."
"Oh, I would. You've left me with nothing but my
career. If you ruin that for me, what
will I have to lose?"
Christine thinks Carol might actually
be sweating.
"Just
calm down. Of course, if you want to leave the project,
I'll give you great references. There's
no need for threats."
"I'm glad we've come to
an understanding." She looks down,
then back up at Carol. "Were you
jealous? Is that it?" Only she's not sure if Carol was jealous of
her and Jim or of her and David.
"Don't be absurd. I really have to go now. I'm sorry, truly."
"Stop saying that. I know it's not true."
She doesn't wait for Carol to
sign off, just hefts her bag and heads for the security office for her
debriefing.
A half hour later she is
free.
And utterly
alone.
She cuts through the Academy
grounds, sees Spock talking to Saavik and some other students and veers off on
a side path. She can't face him right
now.
"Christine?"
She increases her pace, hopes
whoever it is will just think she hasn't heard them.
"Christine!"
She turns, sees Matthew
running toward her.
"What the hell happened
to Jim? He retired yesterday."
She tries to maintain her
composure. "I know."
"Well, you need to talk
some sense into him. This is
ridiculous. He'll be bored silly in a
week."
"Starfleet wasn't the
only thing he left, Matthew."
"What?"
"He's gone." She turns away as she feels tears welling up.
He stops her. "I'm sorry. I don't know what to say. I thought--"
"--You thought he loved
me. Well, he did." She looks down. "I made some mistakes, Matthew. I...I blew it." She laughs, the
sound nothing more than a puff of air.
"I told him, a long, long time ago, that I wasn't any good at
this. But did he listen?"
Her bag is suddenly too heavy
so she moves it to the other shoulder.
"What's in here?"
he asks, touching the strap.
"I left the project I
was on. I'm looking for work, if you
know of anyone who needs a heartbroken research scientist or doctor." She tries to smile, but her lips tremble too
much so she abandons the attempt.
"I'll keep an eye out
for you."
"Thanks,
Matthew." She touches his
hand. "I know you're his friend
first." She starts to turn away.
"I'm your friend
too." He looks concerned for
her.
She wishes he didn't. His pity is somehow worse than Jim's anger.
"I better get
going," she says.
"Right. I am sorry,
Christine."
Everyone is sorry. She wonders if Jim is sorry, or if he is too
busy screwing Antonia.
She turns away and walks back
to the apartment.
All of Jim's things are
gone. So much for
sending for them later. She
wonders if Antonia was with him or if he came alone.
She lets the bag drop off her
shoulder, and it hits the ground hard.
Something in it sounds like it has broken, but she doesn't care. She sits in his study, now nearly empty, and
weeps.
-----------------------
Officially, Christine's on
leave. Unofficially, she is a basket
case. She hasn't called any of her
friends to let them know what's happened, is unsure how one goes about
that. It was so easy when Roger disappeared. Everyone felt sorry for her. The poor, abandoned fiancee.
And here she is full
circle. The abandoned fiancee again.
Only this time no one will pity her.
This time it's her fault she's in this situation.
She can't stand the idea of
her friends trying to offer comfort. Or of trying to explain the situation. It's too complicated, too full of things
that cannot be spoken of. It's easier
just to drift away, to be alone.
Her chime rings. She ignores it.
It rings again. Then whoever is there leans on the thing and
won't let up. In annoyance, she rushes
to the door.
It is Matthew. "I take it you're wallowing?"
"Screw you." She begins to close the door and he catches
it.
"So you do have some
spirit left." He shakes his
head. "I've left five
messages."
She shrugs.
"Four of them were about
a position that's come open. You're
interviewing for it in an hour."
"I am?"
"You are. Now go get changed."
She doesn't move.
"Christine, Jim's
gone. He may never come back. Are you really going to let him take your
life too?"
She goes into her bedroom,
changes into a uniform, and puts up her hair.
Glancing in the mirror, she sees she looks terrible and puts on some
make-up, covering redness and puffiness as best she can.
When she comes back out,
Matthew nods. "You'll do. Now come on."
As they walk to Starfleet
Command, he says, "The position is in Emergency Ops. Their medical specialist just rotated
out. It's busy and bustling and you
won't have time to think about Jim."
She sighs. "Why are you doing this?"
"Hate to lose our
investment after sending you to med school."
She smiles. It is perhaps the first time she's smiled in
days. "Thank you."
"Just do a good
interview." He leads her into Command
and down the corridors to ops.
It is indeed bustling. People seem to be moving in their own version
of controlled chaos. She sees Janice, has
forgotten she has been assigned to ops.
She lifts her hand in greeting as her friend waves at her. Then Matthew is leading her to a conference
room off the main area. Five people are
waiting for her.
She swallows. She hates interviewing, isn't sure she is up
to one. Sitting down, she waits for the
first question.
It seems easy, given her
experiences. She answers it. The next is just as easy, and she starts to
relax. Leaning forward, she smiles, ready for whatever they can dish out.
When it's over, she wanders
over to Janice.
"Hey,
stranger." Janice is wearing lieutenant commander
bars. She's blowing through the ranks
even faster than Christine.
"Hey."
"Long
time, no see. But I guess you're busy with Jim?" Janice looks over at her, grins in what is
only a mildly envious way.
"He's gone,
Jan." She hates herself for
blurting it out.
Janice smiles breezily. "I know he's retired. But that just means more time for you to
enjoy him, right?" Her grin fades
as she sees Christine's face.
"What?"
"He left me."
"Oh,
god, Christine. I'm so sorry." She touches Christine's hand.
The old Janice would have
pulled her into a hug. The old Christine
would have been crying instead of trying so hard to stay composed.
Janice waits for her to get
control before she whispers, "How did this happen?"
She shakes her head. It's not that she doesn't know, she just doesn't want to say. "Little by little, I guess. It eroded over time. And I made some mistakes." Jim isn't blameless in this either, but
compared to what she did, his infractions seem minor.
"You still love
him?"
Christine nods. She can't say it. It hurts.
Janice seems to realize
that. "So you're interviewing for Latcher's job?"
She points down the way, to a station labeled, "Medical."
Nodding, she asks, "Do
you like it here, Jan?"
"Yeah, I do. It's busy. Crazy busy a lot of the time. But believe me, there is no time to sit and
obsess." She grins. "And you meet the most interesting
people."
Men. Janice can
only mean men. Christine can't imagine
ever caring about that again.
Janice seems to read her
mind. "You have to get back up on
the horse."
"It's kind of hard to
do. I'm too busy mourning that someone
walked off with mine."
How could she have been so
stupid?
Protomatter seems a lifetime
away.
------------------------
Commander Reed, the head of
Emergency Ops comms her the
next day to let her know she has the position.
She actually feels some excitement over that fact. She
wasn't kidding when she told Carol her career was all she had left. She intends to throw herself into it body and
soul. She owes it to Matthew for looking
out for her, and to herself too.
Besides, it's what Jim would
be doing if he weren't so busy throwing himself body and soul at Antonia.
Only Christine wants to think
that the other woman just has his body.
That somehow she owns his soul and always will. Someday, she'll get him back.
Christine also worries that she is a little bit delusional.
But it's a happy fantasy, one
that makes lonely nights not quite as long.
So she goes with it.
She doesn't have to worry about occupying her days. Janice was right. Ops is crazy busy. And Christine loves it. There
is no time to do anything but act and react.
No time to sit and think of what ifs and if onlys. There is only the latest crisis and dealing
with it.
She thinks they should
prescribe it for anyone with a broken heart.
She looks down at her comms queue. The
messages are rolling in like crazy. Three planetary epidemics, a strange bacterial outbreak at an
isolated research station, and a handful of other medical emergencies. It's triage, on a galactic scale.
Janice looks over at
her. Smiles. They go to lunch often, have picked up their
friendship as if they never let it slide into something less intense. Christine is not sure if it is because they
are both more mature, or because she is no longer with Jim. She hopes it is the former.
Not that it matters. Jim isn't coming back.
"I take it this was a
good move?"
She looks up, sees Matthew
smiling down at her.
She nods. "What are you doing here?"
He grins, pulls up an extra
chair and sits down by her. "I love
it here. Can't get
enough of the place."
"The Academy isn't the
most exciting place?"
"It's all right. But I won't be there forever." He points back at Admiral Kachowa's
office. "I intend to make that my
own."
"Well, then I pity the
person who stands in your way." She
finds herself smiling. She does that
more often now.
As long as she doesn't think
about Jim, she's okay.
"You free for
lunch?"
"I am." She finishes the note she is working on, then
gets up and sets her station to reroute any immediate comms
to Warnick, the science specialist.
They walk in a companionable
silence to the mess. Separating to find
the food they want, they meet back up at a table near the windows.
"You don't have to look
out for me anymore," she says as she sits down.
"I know. I'm not." He takes a bite of food, savors it. "This mess is so much better than the
Academy mess."
"Well, we get all the VIPs. You
just have a bunch of kids."
"True. But good kids. Our hope for the future. If the Klingons don't steal
that future away first."
There have been more incursions on the borders.
She reads the reports every day, shudders at the casualty reports.
He glances at her. "I take it you're no fan of Klingons
either?"
"I'm not."
"Good to know." He eats for a few moments, then
asks, "What do you think is going to happen to the Klingon Empire?"
"Well, the popular
theory is that it will crumble under its own weight." Not unlike the way her relationship with Jim
did. Or at least that's what she tells
herself on the days she's not interested in wallowing in guilt.
"Yes, that is the
conventional wisdom."
"You don't believe
it?"
"I think we have to be
ready for anything. I think that a lot
of people are sleeping when they should be watching."
She frowns. "Or doing?"
He nods slowly. "Or doing."
"Starfleet's policy is
to watch. We hear that enough times in
ops when we have to deal with their damn raids."
"I know. But not all of Starfleet may feel that
way." He leans in. "There are some people who champion a
more direct approach to the problem of the Klingon Empire."
"A
war?"
"Not
exactly. But action nonetheless. Perhaps direct isn't what I mean. Indirect maybe?" He grins.
She gets it. He means direct action. Nasty covert ops and all the things that make
someone in Starfleet intelligence have an orgasm. She decides to change the subject. Things you can't talk about in mixed company
give her a rash now. "I like
Emergency Ops. I never would have
thought of doing this. I'm glad you made
me interview."
"I knew you'd like it. You're just what they look for. Flexible, incredibly smart, you have
experience in the field so you know what our fleet is dealing with. And you care, Christine. That's one of the most important
aspects."
"I do care. I didn't think I would after Jim." She looks down. "And at night, he's still pretty much
all I think about." She looks back
up and grins. "But I'm usually so
exhausted that I don't think about him very long."
He laughs. "See. Progress."
"Right." She sighs. "Do you miss him, Matthew?"
"I do. I truly do." He leans in.
"I plan to keep tabs on him.
He'll get bored eventually, and then we'll get him back."
"I'm not so sure about
that."
"You'll see. We will."
They finish their meal, chatting
about less weighty matters than the destruction of the Klingon Empire and the
retaking of James T. Kirk.
As he walks her to the main
corridor, Matthew says, "I know you miss him, Christine. But don't wait for him."
"You just said we'd get
him back."
"I know. But I'm not sure when. I don't like to think of you
alone." He seems embarrassed, looks
down as he says, "Remember how I always found my way to the kitchen to
help you serve?"
"I remember."
"That was always the
best part of the evening for me. Our time."
She smiles. It is a sweet thing to say.
He smiles, shrugs. "And that's enough soul baring for one afternoon.
I'll see you around." He
gives her a slightly embarrassed grin, then heads down
the corridor.
She goes back to ops, ready
for another afternoon of craziness.
Weeks begin to run
together. There are the latest crises
and coming up with ways to deal with them.
There are the parties when they handle a biggie, and donuts for the
small victories. She'd be gaining weight
from all the food if she wasn't so busy running things down when she's not on
the headsets. There are very few parts
of Starfleet Command or Medical she doesn't end up in for meetings, very few
admirals she hasn't briefed at this point.
It's heady. It's exhausting. It's a rush.
Matthew stops by often. They go to lunch on Wednesdays when he's in
the building for his briefings to personnel on the latest cadet achievements
and infractions. And increasingly they
go to lunch on other days. She's not
sure she would survive without him.
Or without
Janice. Her friend is the only one she can talk about
Jim to. She doesn't go into specifics,
doesn't want to hurt Janice that way.
But it feels good to know that when the ache for Jim gets too bad, she
has someone who understands. Someone who loved him too.
It's selfish and she's asked
Janice if it would be easier not to talk about Jim. Janice just laughs at her. Give her one of her "ops" looks and
tells her to shut up. Friends
listen. Friends are there.
Her comm unit buzzes as
another message drops into her queue.
It's from Matthew. It says,
"I have a social emergency. I know
that is not your field, but perhaps you could branch out? Retirement ceremony tonight
for an old friend. My date has
the flu. Go with me? (I assume you have a dress uniform?)"
She laughs. Comms him
back. "Social emergencies require
serious compensation in the form of expensive booze."
Another message drops in her
queue. "Agreed. Name your poison. Oh, and I'll pick you up at 1900."
She laughs and goes back to
her emergencies. The day is uneventful,
which for them means the Federation is not in immediate danger of
collapse. She leaves the Beta Shift
science officer with a laundry list of crises to watch. He just smiles at her. None of them would know what to do if things
got slow.
Matthew is prompt, whistles
appreciatively at her as she models her dress uniform. Reed made her get it when she first started, authorized it on her uniform allowance. Her old dress uniform is apparently woefully
out of date.
He has a flitter waiting and
she climbs in. They talk during the
short ride to the club, and he hands her out with a gallant bow.
She laughs. Realizes she is enjoying herself with him. He takes her arm, an easy movement with no
territoriality in it. He's glad to be
with her. He enjoys her. Smiling, she tries to show how much she
likes him too. And how
grateful she is to him.
She meets more admirals, but
most of the brass at the ceremony already know her
from ops, maybe not by name, but enough to nod and murmur,
"Commander," with recognition in their eyes as they do it. It's a nice feeling.
The ceremony is moving, the
honoree a woman who made a difference wherever she served. When Matthew gives his
tribute, Christine smiles. He is
such a good man.
They wander to a bar set up outside
on a patio, and enjoy the warm night air.
"You wanted expensive,
right?"
She nods. Is about to order single malt and thinks
better of it. "
He makes a face. "Tiny bubbles are for the birds."
She laughs. "You don't like champagne?"
"No." He smiles.
"But I'll get you some."
She wanders to the end of the
patio, looking out on the city and the sparkling lights.
He comes out with something
clear and full of ice for himself, and hands her a champagne flute. "Dom Perignon
all right with you?"
She laughs. "Oh,
yes." She sips at it and smiles as
the bubbles dance over her tongue.
"Good stuff."
"So is this. Good Russian vodka." He holds up his glass, touches it against
hers. "To
endings. And
new beginnings." His
expression is very warm. Very gentle.
She thinks she should be
nervous. But being with him is low
pressure. He may be saying he's interested
in her, but if he is, it's in a subtle way.
She'll worry about subtext when it becomes text.
"I have a confession to
make."
She waits.
"My date didn't have the
flu. Actually, I didn't have a
date."
She laughs. "You planned this?"
He nods.
"I wish we could plan
all our emergencies like that."
He seems to relax. She is about to say something else when a familiar
voice calling out a greeting makes her turn.
She hears a laugh she'd know anywhere, turns to see Jim and Antonia near
the bar. She can feel her face freeze.
Matthew turns to see what she is looking at.
He lets out a ragged breath.
"I didn't know he'd be here.
I swear I wouldn't have asked you if I had. I wouldn't do that to you."
Jim's hand is low on
Antonia's rather over-exposed back. She
is cuddling in close to him. Christine wants
to go over and throw her drink at one or both of them. She also wants to sink into the floor and
disappear. She does neither.
Calling on willpower she
isn't sure she has, she turns back to Matthew.
"It's okay. I'm okay."
He moves closer to her, as if
hiding her from Jim. She pushes him
away. "Let him see me. It's his loss, right?"
He nods.
The drinks have clearly gone to both their heads. Jim is with a beautiful woman in a gorgeous
dress. The most that Christine can say
for herself is that she's attractive in her dress uniform.
"It is his loss,
Christine. If I were Jim, I'd have
stayed and worked it out."
She smiles at him, supposes
that is true. But then Matthew probably
can't understand the anger that Jim felt, that she
still feels both at herself and at Jim.
Matthew seems to lack fire. His
one true passion appears to be for the Klingons he hates so much.
She turns, sees Jim looking
their way. He is scanning the crowd, but
he freezes as he sees her. Their eyes
seem to lock, even if that's impossible with the distance between them. For a moment she forgets to breathe.
Then he is pushing Antonia
inside gently. She imagines they will
find a reason to go. Her date outranks
him after all. She gets to stay.
She'd rather leave with Jim.
She'd rather do a lot of
things. None of them are going to
happen.
---------------------------
Her chime rings and Christine
gets up from her couch reluctantly. It's
been a long time since she's had a day off and she would rather spend it alone,
in the quiet that can never be found in ops.
She opens her door, sees
Spock standing there. "Hello."
"Hello,
Christine." He holds up the
traveling Ka'Vareth board that kept them so entertained on the
"And you just happened
to know that I'd be off work?" When
he does not answer, she asks, "Why are you off work?"
"The Academy is on
break." He sets up the game on the
coffee table.
She makes them both tea then joins him. "Long time."
"Yes. I waited for you to come see me. I did not want to press you. Not when I knew you would be hurting."
She nods. She thought about going to him. But in the end couldn't bring herself to do it.
"You were Jim's friend first."
"That is true. But I am your friend as well now."
"I betrayed him."
"Yes, he indicated it
had something to do with his son, I believe." Spock does not look like he is judging
her.
Why isn't he judging her?
"That's the short version,
yeah."
"Unless you plan to tell
me the long account, the short version is all that I have."
"I'd rather not."
He nods, as if it does not
matter much to him either way. He makes
his first move. "I have missed you,
Christine. And our
games."
She has not played the game
for months. Fortunately, it is not
something you forget. Not once it is in
your blood. She moves a frontpiece in a daring opening.
"Interesting." He looks up at
her. "You would not have made that
move before."
She frowns. "Yes, I would have."
"You have never made
that move before." He moves to
counter her boldness.
She supposes if anyone can
keep track of that kind of thing it is him.
She makes another move, even more daring.
He almost frowns, appears to
be trying to deduce if she has a strategy or is just winging it. "I think Emergency Operations is
changing you."
"In a
good way?"
He looks at the board. "That is not certain."
She laughs.
"Have you seen
Jim?" he asks.
Her smile fades. "No." The word is full of meaning and finality. It
says, "Don't ask me about this, Spock.
Leave it alone."
Spock does not appear to hear
it. "I have seen him. He does not appear to be thriving in
retirement."
She feels irrationally happy
at the thought. "No?" This time the word begs for more details.
"Matthew has asked me to
watch out for Jim." He raises an
eyebrow, as if asking her to figure out what that means.
"Ah. For 'Operation: Bring Jim Back Into the Fold'?"
"Yes." He waits for her reaction.
"Sneaky."
"I prefer the word
strategic."
"Whatever." She smiles at him. "So you think he's ready to come
back?"
"Not yet." He moves a piece in a rather daring move
himself. "But
soon."
"I see." She studies the board, tries to figure out
what the hell he is doing. If they are
both playing a "seat of the pants" strategy, the game will be pure
chaos. "And just how are you going
to entice him back once he's ready?"
"I will not. You will."
She sets the piece she was
moving back down. "What?"
"Admiral Cartwright
believes Jim still loves you. I believe
that as well."
"You didn't see him when
he was leaving."
"He did come to me,
Christine."
She looks down.
"I know exactly how hurt
he was. I know exactly how you hurt
him."
"Exactly?" She is
suddenly worried. Did Jim meld with
him? Does Spock really know
everything? What happened to the short
version?
"We did not
meld." He takes a sip of tea. "Are you going to play eventually?"
"Oh." She sets the piece down, not paying any
attention.
He doesn't seem to realize that. Studies the move as if she has invented a new strategy.
She waves her hand in front
of his eyes. "Spock, forget the
damn game. What do you mean I'm going to
bring him back?"
"Just
what I said. He is growing restive. The last time I visited him, he spent much
time on the front steps, staring up at the stars. I am not sure he was even aware that he was
doing it."
"Okay, so he's
bored." She hopes that he's bored
with Miss Perfect too.
"And I believe he misses
you."
"You do?" She laughs.
"Have you actually seen Antonia, Spock?"
"Oh, yes. She is
stunningly beautiful." He says it
as if he is appraising an old painting.
"And have you looked at
me lately?"
He almost smiles. "No, because you have been avoiding
me."
"You know what I mean." She sips her tea. "I'm not in her league. I don't even own a dress like that."
He frowns,
apparently Matthew didn't fill him in on Antonia's fashion sense.
"Long
story. But I think Jim's got the package deal here,
Spock."
"She lacks your
fire. She lacks your intelligence."
"She's dumb?" Christine knows she is too eager to hear
that, but can't help herself.
"Jim would not stay with
a woman who was of lower intelligence.
But she is not like you."
"Maybe that's exactly
why he loves her. Because
she's nothing like me?" She
leans back.
"There is a chemistry between two people who are well matched and care
deeply for each other. An energy, if you will.
You and Jim have it. Jim and
Antonia do not. If you are the one who
offers him his life back, I do not believe he will be able to turn it
down."
She laughs. "Who knew you were such the scheming
diplomat." In ops being called a
diplomat is not necessarily a compliment.
"Admiral Cartwright will
tell you when it is time to begin Operation--what did you call it?"
"'Operation Bamboozle
Jim'?"
"I think that was not
it. But it is close enough." He goes back to studying the game.
She knows her game is
ruined. All she can think about is Jim.
-----------------------------------
She and Spock meet regularly
for a game. It has become habit, just as
eating lunch and the occasional dinner with Matthew has become a habit. Just as flying on pure adrenaline day in and
day out has become a habit.
She can throw a briefing
together in five minutes. She can work
up scenarios with the best of them. Reed
has begun to leave her in charge. At
first she felt funny--she was one of the newest members of the team--but no one
seemed to mind.
"You're a leader,
Christine. Get over it." Janice smiles at her over drinks after
work.
"But you've been there
longer."
"Only
by a few weeks. And I have no desire to be Reed's exec. Believe me." She frowns at Christine. "Don't you get that they're grooming you
to take her job?"
"Who is?"
"Cartwright
and Kachowa."
"You're making that
up."
"I'm not." Janice grins at her. "Friends in high
places."
Christine walks home thinking
about the possibility of taking Reed's job and realizes she wants it, wants it
badly. She's ready to move beyond
medical. She reads the other sections'
reports routinely. She loves to watch
how all the pieces fit.
Matthew is waiting for her in
the lobby when she walks in.
"Hi," she says.
"Hi. Can I come up?"
"Sure." They ride in silence up to her floor, walk in
silence down the hall. Once inside, she
goes to the bar. "Vodka?" She keeps the bar stocked. Jim taught her the value of being a good
host.
"No. It's time, Christine. It's time to bring him back."
She walks over to him. "I may not be the right person."
"No. You're the right person." He surprises her by reaching out, stroking
her cheek. "I have to tell you, I'm
a bit torn over this. He comes back and
you'll be out of reach. But then you're
already out of reach. It's why I haven't
pushed. You don't seem ready--I'm not
sure you ever will be. Jim's got a hold
of your heart and he's never letting go."
She looks down. "I think you're right. I do care about you but--"
He puts a finger over her
lips. "It's all right. I want a woman who loves me for me, not
because I'm a nice guy." He smiles
sadly. Then perks up. "And it's better that we're just good
friends because I'm going to be your boss.
Kachowa's job is mine
effective two weeks from now."
"Congratulations,
Matthew."
"It's a big vote of confidence.
But I know we won't let them down."
He grins at her. "I want Jim
to take my billet at the Academy. It's a
lot more interesting than just teaching.
He'll be shaping curriculum, out in space with the cadets on the test
cruises, administering the Kobayashi Maru." He grins at that.
"I'll use that in my
sales pitch."
"You do that. Oh and Reed will be rotating out soon
too. I'll be assigning you to that
job."
So Janice was right.
"Are you sure you don't want
to wait and see if I can deliver Jim?"
She grins. Bringing Jim back may
be impossible--her own no-win scenario.
She knows Matthew won't hold it against her if she fails.
"He loves you,
Christine. I know it. Hell, even Spock knows it." When she doesn't comment, he says, "Jim
told Spock that he and Antonia would be visiting his uncle's place in
She looks down. "Not exactly. He met Antonia there, remember?"
"Even
better. Guilty ground."
She's told him the
story. Didn't mean to but it came out
one night after too much expensive champagne.
"You go tomorrow morning,
Commander. Failure is not an
option."
She can't help it. She laughs.
But she stands at attention, and her unwavering gaze forward is regulation
perfect. "Sir,
yes, sir."
He moves closer. "I'm only going to do this once. Then we forget I ever tried, okay?"
She nods, lifts her face to
his so he can kiss her.
It's a nice kiss. Friendly. Warm.
It doesn't move her at all.
He seems to know that as he
pulls away. "The man ruined you for
anyone else, Christine. I'm not sure if
you are lucky or cursed."
She laughs softly. "I'm not sure either, Matthew."
He smiles at her. "Good luck, Commander." Then he is gone.
She can barely sleep. Is up with the sun and has to wait a while
before beaming over. This time she beams
to the closest town and rents a flitter to take her to Harry's place. She flies over, gets out and walks to the main
house.
She knocks and waits, but no
one comes. Backing up, she studies the
house and sees that a curtain upstairs is swinging slightly as if someone was
watching her but then ducked out of sight.
She turns and listens for a moment, then heads for the stables.
"Harry?"
Jim's uncle looks up from
where he is mucking out a stall.
"Christine?"
She nods, unsure what her
reception will be.
"Good god, girl. Come here." He drops the rake, strides over to her, and
grabs her up in a hug. "How the
hell are you?"
She laughs. "I'm good."
He lets her go. "Really?"
"Well, I'd be better if
I was staying here and not just visiting."
He looks suddenly
guilty.
"It's okay." She touches his arm. "I know she's here."
He nods.
"Harry, it's all right
to like us both." She kisses his
stubbly cheek and says, "It's good if Jim's happy."
She pulls back, studies
Harry's face. He doesn't look like he
thinks Jim is all that happy. But he
tries to cover it up by telling her how much Jim likes riding.
"Is that where he is
now?"
He nods.
"Can I borrow a
horse?" At his look, she holds up a
hand. "I'm not here on my own
behalf. I'm on official Starfleet business. Admiral Cartwright sent me."
He looks uncertain, and a
new, softer voice calls out from behind them.
"It's okay, Harry. I'll get her fixed up."
Christine turns. If anything, Antonia is even more beautiful
close up. Soft,
perfect features. Deep brown eyes. Lustrous dark hair. And a lovely petite and very curvaceous figure.
She tries not to conjure up a
picture of Andrea to compare her with.
Tries not to feel gawky and overly tall and uncertain, but the vision
moves closer--Antonia is graceful even in a dust-filled barn.
"You're Christine,
aren't you?"
She nods.
Antonia turns. "Come on, the horses are out
here." She leads Christine to a
large corral where six horses are moving restlessly. She hooks her arms over the fence, whistles
and a dark bay horse trots up. Her hand
goes out, the horse nuzzles her gently.
"Yours," Christine
says softly.
"If only everything were
so easily claimed." Antonia turns
to her. "I've spent the last two
years being jealous of you."
"Have you looked in the
mirror?" Christine smiles a bit
bitterly. This is a strange
conversation.
"Oh, I've made a living
on my looks. I have no illusions on that
front." She touches the horse's
forelock, moves it away from his eyes and rubs between them. "Beauty can attract, but it can't
hold." She looks over at Christine,
gives her an odd look.
"He's starting to sneak
out at night, isn't he? You've caught
him sitting on the front stoop staring up at the stars?" She isn't afraid to use what Spock told her. Knows he gave it to her as ammunition.
He wants Jim back just as much as she does.
He'll never admit it, but he may want him back for the same
reasons. Because he
loves him. Because
he misses him.
Antonia nods slowly. "He seems...bored these days. If he weren't, I'd give you the meanest horse
here and send you in the wrong direction."
She sighs. "Pick
one."
Christine knows that Antonia's
bay is not included in that choice. She
looks out over the horses, chooses a scrubby buckskin
that looks like it could run all day. "That one."
Antonia laughs softly. "Of course, you'd choose the
mustang. She was skittish, hard to gentle." She looks down. "The only one Jim told me not to
ride. I think I finally understand
why." She climbs over the fence in
a quick motion, grabs a halter, and retrieves the horse. "Her name is Caya," she says as she
leads her out of the gate and ties her to the fence, saddling her quickly.
"I can do it."
"No. I'm the
hostess." She seems angry now,
won't look anywhere but at the horse as she works.
Christine thinks Antonia
might be trying not to cry. She also
thinks she will check the girth before she gets on.
"Couldn't you just turn
around and go away?" Antonia says.
"Leave us alone?"
"No. We need him."
"And they send you? The stars offered to him by you? Starfleet really doesn't fight fair, does
it?"
"No." She meets Antonia's eyes. "I don't intend to fight fair
either."
"I know." Antonia backs away. She laughs slightly as Christine tightens the
girth before she swings up onto the horse.
"Did you expect me to fight fair?"
"Frankly, I'd be
disappointed if you did."
Antonia smiles, a real smile
this time. "I expected to hate
you."
"Same
here." Christine smiles gently. "But then this is James T. Kirk we're
fighting over. He generally has great
taste in women."
Antonia looks down. "Tell me, are they enough? The memories of having
loved him?"
Christine decides not to lie
to her. "No. They're not."
Antonia sighs, then points down a dusty road. "Follow that until you come to the
trees, then go straight on through. Once
you pass the creek you'll see a ravine up ahead. He's usually there. Jumping it." She looks down.
From rock
climbing to this new form of thrill seeking. Jim isn't very
original when it comes to showing how dissatisfied he is. But she doesn't offer that opinion to
Antonia, just nods and says, "I'll find him."
"I have no doubt of
that." Antonia crawls back over the
fence; her bay comes close and she wraps her arms around his neck.
At least she can be sure of one of her men.
Christine takes off down the
road, letting the mare settle into her own pace. Caya's gallop is
rougher than the horses she used to ride on her grandfather's farm, but the
mare probably could run all day if she had to.
The sun is hot, and Christine
wishes she'd brought a hat. She squints
against the brightness, then sighs in relief when she
finally reaches the trees. Caya has
slowed to a nice canter, taking it easy on both of them. As they pass a creek, Christine slows her
even more.
She sees him up ahead. He is on a dark bay horse, light-limbed and
tall, probably bred to jump things like the ravine Jim is making him leap over
and over. She pulls up, waits for him to
see her.
He urges his horse forward,
the movement of his hands and feet and seat nearly undetectable. He rides horses the same way he used to ride
her. With perfect
control.
She feels a rush of lust at
the sight of him, at being alone with him finally after the time apart. She loves how he fills out the riding pants,
how strong his arms look in the short sleeved shirt he is wearing. She barely looks at other men, but she can't
keep her eyes off Jim.
She wants him. Will there ever come a day
when she doesn't?
She sees his look change as
he realizes it is her.
"Chris?" For a second,
she thinks he would like to pull her off the horse and into his arms, but then
his expression becomes neutral.
And wary.
"Fancy
meeting you here." He turns, clucks to his horse and shifts
forward. The horse takes off for the
ravine again, leaps it effortlessly. Jim
stops him, wheeling in a tight circle so he is facing her. He leans forward. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm here on Matthew's
behalf."
"Let me guess. An offer from Starfleet? Not interested."
"Why don't you let me
tell you about it before you reject it?"
"Well, I would,
Chris. But see, you're over there and
I'm here. It's a problem."
"Jump back over
here."
"Don't want
to." He grins--meanly, she
thinks. "You show me yours, I'll
show you mine."
She remembers a time, long
before they got together, when he was the one pursuing her and she said those words
to him. What was it he said? She remembers. "You think I won't?"
He shrugs, begins to turn
away.
She leans down, pats Caya on
the neck, under her coarse mane.
"Let's show him what wild horses are made of, girl." She urges her forward, and Caya tears up the
ground as the ravine gets closer and closer.
She cannot see Jim's
face. She wonders if he is worried, but
forgets everything in the rush she gets as the horse takes off, clearing the
ravine by several feet. The horse slows,
and Christine turns her in a lazy circle, joining him at the edge of the
ravine.
He is staring at her, and she
sees that he was worried. She doesn't
hesitate, knows this may be the only time he will be open to the offer, to even
listening to her. "Matthew is
moving up to be head of Emergency and Relief Operations. Starfleet needs someone in his position at
the Academy. Someone like
you."
"I'm retired."
"Yes, and quite busy, I
see. Are you climbing mountains
too? Or is this the extent of your risk
taking?"
His look turns stony.
"You're bored,
Jim." She turns Caya, trots her
back, then sets her against the ravine again.
The mare clears it
effortlessly. She turns. "I've shown you mine..."
His mouth tightens and he
turns his horse, getting the distance he needs to make the jump. The horse is beautiful when he runs, even
more beautiful as he leaps the gap.
When Jim rides back to her,
she leans in. "Tell me, love, how
many times has Antonia jumped the ravine?"
He looks away, and she
laughs. This is it; this is where she
doesn't play fair. This is where she
wins him back for Starfleet, for Matthew, for Spock, and please god, someday
for herself.
"She doesn't need to
jump the ravine." He is making his
horse sidestep up against hers, pushing Caya away from the edge. She wonders if he is even conscious he is
doing it.
Her mare suddenly lunges at
his horse, nipping him as he gets too close.
Jim's laugh is
unexpected. "Even your horse is a
bitch."
"She's not my horse, as
you well know."
"Well, then, it figures
you'd pick her." He exhales loudly
and something seems to leave him.
She realizes it is his resistance to her offer.
She pushes her advantage.
"This isn't for me, although I'd be lying if I said that I don't
miss you. It's for you and for the Fleet. We need you." She grins.
"And you'd be the one to administer the Kobayashi Maru. Isn't there
some fine irony in that idea?"
He grins. But as he looks at her, something fills his
eyes. It is the old anger.
He hasn't forgiven her.
He may never forgive her.
She sighs. "Our paths won't cross unless you want
them to. I'm in the operations center or
I'll be off world at some emergency or other." She looks down. "Matthew will keep me out of your way, I
promise you."
"You and Matthew seem
pretty close now."
"Jealous?" She studies him.
He clamps down on something
that does look very much like jealousy.
"You're a free agent."
"Yes. You made me one." She looks down. "But that's immaterial, Jim. I'm not the reason you should consider this. Do you want back up there?" She points up. "Because you can get
there again." She plays her
trump card. "On
the
He starts to look up at the
sky, but then his gaze is arrested by something else. She follows his eyes, sees a horse and rider
silhouetted on the hillside.
She knows it is Antonia. "She loves you," she says.
"And I love
her." His voice sounds broken.
Christine leans in. "I believe that. But has it occurred to you that she's your
Joe?" Their eyes meet and there is
something lost in his. "Starfleet will
need your answer by the end of the week."
She wheels the buckskin and gallops off.
As she rides back to the
barn, she realizes that Antonia is shadowing her. The other woman has not chosen to ride down,
is not going to try to convince Jim to stay with her.
Christine knows she's won.
Unless, of
course, Antonia is armed. She does not appear to be, or if she is,
decides not to shoot Christine on the short trip back to the barn. She rides up and dismounts as Christine is
undoing the girth, getting ready to pull the saddle from Caya's
back.
"Leave it. I'll do it."
Harry walks out. "I'll take her." He unties Caya, urges her to follow him into
the barn. "It was nice seeing you,
Christine."
Antonia stands between her
and the flitter. Her eyes are hard. "He loves me. He'll choose me."
"Maybe."
"He doesn't love you
anymore." Pain is making Antonia
harsh.
And a liar. Christine saw
love mixed with all the anger in Jim's eyes.
But Antonia doesn't need to know that she knows that. Not when Antonia's going to lose him all on
her own. She's beautiful, she's loving. And
Jim's bored with her.
Christine doesn't say that
either. "It doesn't matter whether
he loves me. Does he still love
space? Does he still love the stars and
the ships and the life he left behind?"
Antonia looks down.
"I am sorry." It's a lie, but Christine is getting better
at them. And this time it's for a good cause.
"I know what you'll be going through."
She walks around the other woman,
hurries to the flitter and climbs in. As
she flies away, she sees Jim slowly riding up.
Antonia takes one look at his face and turns on her heel, walking
quickly into the house.
He doesn't follow her.
FIN