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) 2003 by Djinn. This
story is Rated R.
Siren's Song
by Djinn
Kirk sighed as he walked
toward the milling crowd inside the art museum, absently fingering the small
red foil token that had been his ticket into the event. This holiday gala had been Lori's idea not
his. He hadn't even wanted to go when
she'd suggested it months ago, had only decided to keep his token when she'd
asked him to give it back. Five months
ago they'd been together and happy--or so he'd thought. Now, they were apart and he was
miserable. Missing her and hating himself for it. Angry
that he'd never seen through her, that he'd been so
thick. Mad at her for having
someone--probably several men--to replace him with, to bring to this stupid
gala in his place.
He nodded politely to several
other admirals, moving purposefully toward the bar, like a shark that would die
if it didn't keep swimming. He managed
to sidestep several society matrons asking him where his lovely wife was.
My lovely ex-wife, he wanted
to say, is probably home, in our old bed, screwing one of her many lovers. He didn't say it, just smiled gamely and
moved on.
The bar beckoned; he pushed
through the throng of people, briefly admiring a bare back belonging to a
brunette in a dark blue halter dress.
Then he looked away, coming to rest against the bar. He leaned over and checked out the liquor
selection.
A low, somewhat inebriated
voice, said, "I recommend the tequila."
He turned,
saw that the bare back in the dark blue halter had an equally alluring and
almost as bare front. He forced his gaze
upward. "Chapel?"
She peered at him. Then her face fell. "Shit.
Admiral.
I didn't know it was you."
The last words came out garbled.
She leaned over the bar, giving both Kirk and the bartender a fabulous view
of her assets.
Kirk wondered why he'd never
noticed before how well-built she was.
The bartender seemed
positively mesmerized.
Chapel grabbed the bartender
by the collar and pulled him to her.
"Quit looking down my dress."
"Maybe you shouldn't
lean over like that," he said, gulping.
"Oh. Good point." She patted him on the cheek. "You're a nice boy. Now give me some antitox. I'm way too drunk. I almost hit on my former boss." She cocked a thumb back at Kirk.
"I'm not supposed
to--"
"Give me some and I'll
give you a big tip." She pulled away
from him. "Don't give me some and
I'll tell your employer you were ogling me."
"That hardly seems
fair," Kirk said, suddenly in solidarity with the bartender. "I was ogling you too."
"You outrank me. He doesn't."
The bartender dropped some
pills into her other hand.
"Here. Keep it quiet."
"Good boy." She threw the pills back, chased them down
with her tequila.
"I don't think that's
how those were meant to be taken," Kirk said.
"Tough." She sighed, closed her eyes and seemed to
wobble for a moment. When she opened
them again, her expression was clear but haunted somehow. "Amazing drug. If only all the bad things in life were as
easy to take away as being drunk."
She nodded to him tersely, then moved on.
"I should go after
her," Kirk said to the bartender.
The young man nodded, his expression wistful. "I would, if I weren't working."
"Let me have what she
was drinking." He turned to watch
Chapel's progress through the room. She
was steady on her feet, nodding to the few people that seemed to know her. Kirk noticed that she didn't smile much.
"Here you go, sir."
Kirk took the tequila and
eased his way to where she was studying one of the paintings. "See something you like?"
"Nope." She didn't
turn to look at him.
"This is a Miro."
"Yep." She pointed to
the sign, as if telling him she was perfectly capable of reading.
He turned, surveyed the
room. A few people nodded to him, but
for the most part nobody was paying any attention to them.
"I didn't figure you for
an art lover, Chapel."
"I'm not." She glanced at him. "I could say the same of you."
"I like what I
like." He shrugged, sipped at his
drink. "My wife--ex-wife wanted to
come to this."
Chapel looked around.
"Oh, she's not
here. She wanted to come when we were
still married. Well, she still wanted to
come tonight, just not with me." He
turned to see if she was following his narrative. Amazingly she seemed to be. "I was having an ornery streak, and
didn't feel like giving up my token so that she could bring someone else. Guess she and
whoever found something better to do.
Why are you here alone?"
She smiled; it was a bitter
expression. "I wasn't supposed to
be." The look she turned on him was
filled with anger--and no small amount of pain.
She held up her token, let it slide until he
could see another one behind it.
"Oops. I must have taken
both of them."
"Christine?" A man yelled from the main entrance, trying
to get past the guards.
Kirk turned to look, noticed
that Chapel didn't. The man was staring
at her.
"Hon? I've lost my
token. Come clear this mess
up?" He turned to the guard at the
door. "See, that's my
girlfriend. She probably has it with
her."
The guard showed signs of
relenting, so Kirk said softly.
"Are you his girlfriend or not?"
"Not." Again the pain showed in her eyes. She seemed to be fighting back tears.
He looked over at the man,
who seemed genuinely confused. Kirk
thought he should take his side in this--he knew what it was like to get
screwed over by a woman. But he couldn't
imagine Chapel being like Lori, or deliberately hurting anyone. He had to go with his gut on this one, and
every instinct he had said to side with Chapel.
"He doesn't know that
your relationship is over?" At the
shake of her head, he held out his arm.
"Why don't we show him?"
She looked up at him, anger
slowly replaced with a look of grudging appreciation. "Thank you, Admiral."
"Call me,
Jim."
She took his arm, studiously
ignoring the man at the entrance. "Only if you'll stop calling me Chapel."
"Christine!" The man seemed frantic. "Honey, what are you doing?"
"I gotta
tell you, buddy," the guard said.
"She doesn't look like your girlfriend to me. Move it along now."
"Christine?" The man's cries slowly faded as the guards
pushed him back from the door.
She pulled away from Kirk as
soon as the coast was clear.
"Thanks." She hurried
off, into the next room.
He followed her. She had stopped in front of a Chagall, did
not turn when he joined her.
"Spock likes
him." He shook his head, amazed
that after all this time he was still thinking of Spock as if the Vulcan were
his best friend. As if he had never run
off to Gol.
Run off for reasons that Kirk had never understood.
Kirk missed him. More than he usually let himself think
about. But here, with her, his friend
seemed very close. And
utterly out of reach. Is that how
she had felt all those years?
"Why is there a chicken
in it?" she asked.
"I don't
know."
"Does Spock like
chickens?"
He shrugged.
"I never knew him well
enough to know what he liked." She
sounded bitter. Hurt and angry but also
resigned, as if she had grown used to such negative emotion.
She walked away, and he let himself
admire how the dress clung to her curves, how the bare skin of her back--was
shaking. She stopped at another painting
and he walked over to her. She was
crying, turning her head away slightly as if to keep him and the people behind
them from seeing.
He had the sudden urge to touch her, to hold
her, but he didn't think she'd appreciate it.
"Do you want to tell me about it?"
"No."
He did touch her then, just
long enough to steer her deeper into the room, then through a doorway into a
hall. Away from the crowd, from the eyes
that would tear them apart if they saw weakness. He sighed.
His own mood was coloring this.
He should let her be.
She sniffed loudly and he
felt for her pain, whatever it was.
"I'm fine," she
said, pushing him away suddenly and striding down the hall. She disappeared into an exhibit entitled
'Magical Places.'
He looked back at the
crowd. There was nobody he wanted to
talk to here, just a lot of people he'd rather avoid. Like boring admirals who
would want to talk about his boring job.
Or people who would ask him about Lori, people to whom he didn't want to
have to explain that his marriage had fallen apart. That he couldn't make a relationship last
even when safely grounded on Earth.
He turned and followed Chapel
into the far exhibit. "Magical
Places?"
She looked over as he walked
toward her. "There's no such thing
as magic."
He nodded. If there were really magic in the world, love
would last, and the people who swore to cherish and protect you wouldn't break
your heart. "Magic's a crock."
She looked up at him, her
face expressionless. "At the risk
of being rude, sir, please leave me alone."
"I told you to call me
Jim." He tried to smile, felt as if
the expression came out as a grimace.
"What should I call you, since you don't like Chapel?"
She shrugged, seemed to give
up on his giving her any peace. "Whatever you want." She turned away.
"I used to call you
Christine."
"Call me that
then." Her tone was resigned. As if she knew she couldn't stop him from
talking to her, so she wasn't going to try.
"Difficult is what you
are. I think I'll call you that.
Difficult."
"Probably
fits." She moved to the next
painting, stared up at it as if mesmerized.
"Beautiful."
Yes, beautiful would fit her
too tonight. He'd always considered her
one of those women who was handsome.
Nice figure and features, but too severe to be beautiful. Maybe it was the pain that softened her eyes
and made her lower lip tremble slightly, or the slip of dark blue fabric and
how it fell around her, or the way her legs seemed to go on forever, but
tonight she looked beautiful. Then he
realized she was talking about the painting.
He turned to study it, smiled.
"La Grotta Azzurra."
She read the sign. "The Blue Grotto by Leucosia.
You've been to the grotto, I take it?"
He nodded. How many years had it been since he'd visited
"I've never been,"
she said.
"You should go."
She shook her head. "I've been busy getting my degree. No time to travel." She smiled tightly. "That's what you can call me, Admir--Jim. Call me
Doctor."
"Doctor." He smiled,
this time a real expression.
"Congratulations, Chris."
The name rolled off his tongue.
He was about to take it back, but decided it suited her.
She shot him an odd
look. "Nobody calls me that
anymore."
"All
the better." He didn't want
to explain to her that he liked the idea of having something all to
himself. After finding out that he'd
been sharing his wife for too long.
He forced his thoughts along
other lines. Thinking about Lori would
only make him feel depressed. And old.
Chapel turned her gaze back
to the painting. "Is it really that
blue?"
"Bluer."
"Hmm." She turned
away, walked to the next painting.
He studied her as she moved
around the room. She seemed tense, the
muscles in her back taut, her hands clenched somewhat as she stopped and stared
up at one of the works. He wondered if
she was even seeing it. He moved closer
to her and realized she was crying again, only this time she was hiding it
better.
He stepped in close. "What happened?"
She shook her head, but the
tears that rolled down her face seemed to multiply.
"Sometimes it helps to
talk about it," he said softly.
"I will if you
will." She sounded like she didn't
think he would.
He sighed. He wasn't sure he wanted to. He'd become a master of holding his pain
inside. Where it was
probably festering. "I
thought I had a good marriage," he said into the silence.
She turned to look at him.
"She was fun,
passionate, witty.
The sex was great." He
looked down. "For me and all the
other men she was seeing."
"I'm sorry."
He waved her pity away with a
brusque gesture.
"Did you ever see her
with them...these men?"
"No. One of them came to see me. Wanted her for himself. Actually asked me to step
aside in the interest of true love." He shook his head. "When I confronted her, she was
outraged. Not at me, but at this guy for
wanting more than just fun. She seemed
to think it was perfectly all right to have a little action on the side."
He hadn't told any of his
friends this. He hadn't told anyone
this.
"I'm sorry." She did sound sorry.
He nodded tightly. "Your turn."
She sighed. "I was at a seminar today and the last speaker
cancelled. We let out a couple hours
early. I went home. Tom--my boyfriend...ex-boyfriend...the guy
out there--was already home. In bed. Our bed. With someone else."
He touched her arm. "I'm sorry."
"They didn't see me, so
I snuck out. Like some goddamn thief, I
just backed away out of my own place. I
walked for a while, was headed back when I saw her leaving. I gave him a few minutes, then
went inside. I got ready and left while
he was in the shower."
"So, he doesn't know you
know."
She shook her head.
"You should tell
him."
She jerked away from
him. "I know what I should do. I don't need you to lecture me." She walked back to the painting of the Blue
Grotto, stared at it as if she could fall into it if she looked long enough. "I want to be there." She closed her eyes, as if she was making a
wish.
He smiled. "Well, let's go there." It would still be early morning in
"Right." She turned
away.
"I'm serious. I've got transporter credits up the
yin-yang."
"You want to go to
He nodded. "Don't you?" He sighed heavily. "I know I don't want to go home
tonight." Home: that barren
apartment he'd moved into once he'd finally left Lori for good. He hated it.
Hated Lori.
Hated his life.
Some days he even hated himself.
He held out his hand. "Chris?"
She stared at him for a long
time. Then she slowly began to
smile.
He smiled back. "It's warm and the water's so clear you
can see the sea bottom no matter how far out you go." He nodded as she reached for his hand. "And there's always a breeze."
"Sounds
nice."
"It is." He squeezed her hand gently. "It will be. The water's perfection
against your skin."
"Are we going
swimming?"
He nodded.
"I don't have a
suit."
He touched her shoulder, ran
his finger down her arm, smiling when she shivered. "You won't need one."
"Oh."
He thought for a moment she
was going to pull away, then some strange resolve
filled her eyes.
"Tit for tat," he
asked quietly.
She looked guilty. "That's not very fair to you, is
it?"
"Do I look like I
mind?" He turned, began to walk out
of the exhibit.
Her heels echoed on the floor
as she hurried to catch up with him. He
took her glass and set it with his own on one of the server's trays.
"Do you have a
coat?"
She laughed softly. "No.
I wasn't exactly thinking straight when I ran out."
"Are you cold?"
She seemed to think about
that. Then she lifted her eyes to his,
smiled. "No. I'm not."
He smiled back, led her to
the exit.
Quite a few eyes took in
their departure.
Good, Kirk thought. He hoped they told Lori. He looked at Chapel, admiring again the way
the dress hugged her body. Let them tell
his ex that he'd left with a sexy woman.
He nearly laughed at the thought, at how good it felt to be paying Lori
back. He should feel worse about
that. It wasn't very nice of him. But he didn't much care.
"What?" Chapel
asked.
He shook his head. "Just admiring how amazing you
look."
"Ogling
again?" She smiled and it was
finally the warm, gentle smile he remembered from the
"I'm afraid so."
"It is a good dress,
isn't it?" She brushed away a
wrinkle only she could see. "I got
this to drive him crazy. Tonight was our
one-year anniversary." Her face
fell.
Kirk squeezed her hand. "I'm sorry. Lori and I didn't make it to one
year."
"Couple
of losers." She looked up at him.
"Them
or us?"
She sighed. "I don't know. We're the ones who got hurt. So us, I guess."
He nodded ruefully, afraid
she was right. When hadn't he lost at
love?
She looked ready to cry
again. He pulled her out of the museum,
hoping to get her free of the crowd before she lost control, wanting to spare
her that humiliation.
Her boyfriend was waiting for
them outside. He was blowing on his
hands and pacing.
"Christine?" He shot
Kirk an irritated look. "Do you
mind?"
Chapel moved closer to
Kirk. "Tom, leave me alone."
"What's the meaning of
this? One minute we're fine. The next you're hitting on this guy? It's our anniversary, for god's sake."
Kirk felt her hand clench on
his. He squeezed back, trying to give
her strength.
"I came home early
today."
Tom looked suddenly wary.
"I came home hours
before you think I did. I saw an awful
lot. Enough to last me
the rest of my life."
"Christine, I can
explain--"
She pulled away from
Kirk. "You were screwing another
woman in our bed. How much explaining is
necessary?"
Tom reached for her but she
jumped back, running into Kirk, almost losing her balance.
Kirk grabbed her arm,
steadying her. "Come on,
Chris. He's not worth it."
"Why is he calling you
Chris? Who is he?"
"Goodbye,
Tom." She leaned into Kirk, let him
draw her away.
Tom followed. "If you
think this is over, that I'll just let you run off with some other guy..."
She turned; her voice seemed
to drop vitriol. "Let me? You lost the right to let me do anything,
Tom. Now get away from me."
When he didn't move, she took
a step toward him. There must have been
something threatening in her expression, because he took three rapid steps
back.
She turned back to Kirk. "Let's get the hell out of here."
He nodded, pulling her gently
away from her stunned ex and to the waiting transporter station.
This time, Tom didn't follow
them.
--------------------
Chapel held onto Kirk's hand
tightly, afraid that if she let go, she'd find herself back in the apartment,
staring at Tom and that woman. Watching
them make love in her bed.
"Hey?" Kirk said
gently, looking down at their clasped hands.
She realized she was
clenching down hard. "I'm
sorry." She tried to pull away but
he didn't let go.
"It's okay. I meant that as a 'Hey, what's going on in
that head of yours?' not as a 'Hey, lady, you're breaking my hand.'"
She smiled. "I was just thinking about finding them
in bed. When I saw them, it was like
someone hit me in the stomach with a sledgehammer."
He nodded. "Yes.
That's a good description. Later
it will just feel like someone is trying to pull your guts out with a
crowbar." He shot her a wry
grin. "Good thing time heals all
wounds, eh?"
She was glad he wasn't trying
to sugarcoat the truth for her. She
thought her other friends might. But
he'd been through it too. He wouldn't
lie to her and tell her everything would be all right.
He let go of her hand as they
arrived at the transporter station and she found herself missing his
warmth. She had been cold since she'd
found Tom and--
She shook her head, then did it again. Trying to rid herself of the image of that woman, sitting astride
Tom, head thrown back.
She felt Kirk's hand on her
back and leaned into it.
"I'm sorry," he
murmured, seeming to understand what she was thinking about.
She nodded,
afraid she'd break down if she tried to talk.
He led her to a transporter
pad, told the transporter tech, "
The tech made some
adjustments, then the world disappeared to be replaced
by a much smaller transporter station.
She followed Kirk off the pad, walked out into the cool morning air.
"I thought you said it
would be warm here." She rubbed her
arms. "It's not much different than
"But the water will be
warmer than the air, at least."
"By
how much?"
He laughed. "About ten degrees if we're lucky."
She shivered again.
He took off his jacket,
wrapped it around her shoulders.
"Come on, we need to get to the Grotto before the boats
do." He hurried to a local
transport that was just pulling in.
She followed him, having
trouble keeping up in her strappy sandals. He held his hand out, pulled her up the high
first step. She followed him to a seat
in the back. As she sat down next to
him, he dropped an arm around her, pulling her in close then turning to look
out the window, a huge smile growing on his face.
"It's more beautiful
than I remembered." His arm
tightened around her.
She relaxed against him,
letting his warmth soak into her.
"It is spectacular."
The transport was moving
quickly through the narrow streets. They
were empty at this hour of the off-season but she could imagine them filled
with swarms of tourists when summer came.
The sun-bleached houses shone in the early morning light, the white
broken by an occasional pastel-colored building, a
warm yellow or dark pinky red peeking out from between the snowy facades.
They moved out of the city,
cutting across open land and then winding their way down through hairpin
switchbacks into the smaller town of
A local woman was watching
her. When she saw that Chapel was
looking at her, she smiled, approval on her face. "Amore."
Kirk looked over at her, then he pulled Chapel a little closer. "Amore," he repeated, but his voice
was sad.
"Amore sucke," she said, smiling when he laughed at her
massacring of the language.
"It doesn't have
to."
"Doesn't it?"
He shook his head, leaning in
to kiss her gently on the lips. She was
too surprised to pull away, then too caught up with
how good his lips felt on hers to do so.
He finally pulled away. "Did you go to the party intent on
picking someone up? To
pay him back?"
She looked down.
"Chris?"
No one had called her that,
not since she was a kid. But it sounded
right coming from him. She wasn't sure
why. "Yes, I think I
did." It wasn't an admission that
she liked to make. Didn't like what it
said about her.
He just nodded.
"Aren't you going to
tell me that it's wrong?"
"Nope. Maybe I would have
been better off if I'd done something like that." He pointed to the low cliffs ahead of
them. "That's where it
is." He looked at the other
tourists, sighed. "I thought we'd
have it all to ourselves."
"I'm a strong
swimmer," she said softly. "We
can beat them in."
"Dressed like this? We have to find someplace private to take
these clothes off."
She smiled softly. "Didn't really think this through,
huh?"
He shrugged. "It'll work out. Things always do."
"Do they?"
His face fell again, and she
was sorry she asked. She leaned in and
kissed him, enjoying the feel of his lips against hers, the way his hand went
under his jacket to rub her back. Funny,
she had never in her life fantasized about kissing Jim Kirk. Had been too busy mooning
over his first officer. Yet here
they were, and touching him seemed the easiest thing in the world to do.
The transport stopped. Chapel got up just as the old woman did. Chapel waited for her to go, but the woman
was struggling with a large package and motioned for her to proceed. She turned to see Kirk helping the woman get
the package down, then he turned back to Chapel, his hand coming to rest on her
waist, not pushing her, not copping a feel, just there. Comfortable and steadying.
There was a sudden crash
behind them. They both turned, Kirk
hurrying to help pick up a stack of paintings that had fallen out of their
packaging.
"Presto, eh?" the
driver of the transport called back, impatience clear in his voice.
Chapel saw that a smaller
painting had fallen under one of the seats.
She crouched down to drag it out.
It was of the Blue Grotto, similar to the one in the museum that had
drawn her so. She handed it to the
woman. "This is beautiful."
The old woman took it and
smiled, tried to take the bigger paintings from Kirk but he insisted on
carrying them for her. She led the two
of them off the transport. "Grazie."
She studied them. "You came
to swim?"
Kirk nodded. "That was the plan." His expression changed to dismay as he saw the
number of tourists already there.
"No damn suits," he muttered.
"Better to stay
out. It is rough today."
Chapel looked out at the
still waters. "Rough? Where I'm from, that wouldn't qualify as
rough."
The woman looked out at the
sea. "You can't always see what is
coming." She smiled slightly, the
same way she had earlier on the transport, then her look darkened. "Or the hidden dangers."
"That's true," Kirk
said. "But we still want to
swim."
"No
matter the cost?"
"Beach was free last
time I was here." Kirk grinned.
Chapel smiled at his joke,
the daring that barely covered his stubbornness--his dogged determination to
get his way no matter the cost. She'd
seen that determination save them over and over. Maybe that was what a hero was? Someone who just didn't know when to quit?
"Come with me
then," the old woman said matter-of-factly, as she led them to one of the
closed shops. She opened the door, let
them in, then locked it again. Sizing them both up, she began to go through
the racks of clothes, thrusting things at them, including bathing suits and
some simple sandals. "Go. Change."
Chapel looked at Kirk. He shrugged, went to one of the dressing
rooms and closed the curtain behind him.
Chapel looked over at the woman, who motioned her into the other
room. "Hurry or the boats will come
and you'll lose your chance."
Chapel didn't argue, peeling
off her dress and pulling on the simple tank bathing suit. She tried on the rest of the clothing. It all fit.
She walked out, wearing the
shorts and swimsuit, carrying the rest.
"You have a good eye, ma'am."
"My name is Ligi." The woman was going through the pictures,
matching them with small descriptive tags.
"My sister paints these with such care, but then she does not pack
them well." Ligi shook her
head. "Artists." Her tone was scornful.
"You've lived here all
your life?"
Ligi smiled oddly. "Yes."
"And owned this
shop?"
"No. The shop is only recently mine. My sisters and I worked together. Now, we're retired. Separate." She touched one of the paintings; it was of a
cliff-side ruin. "But still in
contact."
"Sisters? You have more than one?" Chapel had always wanted to have a
sister. She'd felt cheated, growing up
an only child. When her parents had
died, she'd had no one left.
"We are
three." Ligi's
tone seemed to say the conversation was ended.
Kirk came out and Ligi took
the clothing and his suit and shoes from him.
She neatly stuffed everything into a large straw carryall. Then she handed it to Chapel, rang up the
purchases as Chapel pushed the things she'd worn to the gala and Kirk's jacket,
as well as her new clothes, into the bag.
"I'll pay you
back," Chapel said softly to Kirk.
"I'm an admiral, I think I can handle it." He grinned at her, and she realized it was
the first real grin she'd seen from him.
"Besides, I was the one who dragged you out here."
"True." She smiled back.
Ligi was humming and the
melody somehow grew to fill the shop.
The tune seemed to reach down into Chapel's bones, reminding her of
swimming, of bonfires on the beach, and the warm sea air rolling across her
face.
"That's beautiful,"
Kirk said. "What is it?"
"Just
a song of the sea." Ligi motioned them out. "You go now. Swim.
Enjoy. Amore." She grinned.
Chapel found herself grinning
too.
Kirk looked at Chapel, then reached back for her hand before he said to the old
woman, "Thank you."
She inclined her head, a
movement that looked almost regal for its grace. "It will be a good day for the
grotto. Very blue,
very bright. Like your
eyes," she said with a smile at Chapel.
Then she turned back to the paintings, muttering something Chapel
couldn't make out, clearly dismissing the two of them.
------------------------------
Kirk hurried over to the ladder
that led to the beach. He took the
carryall from Chapel and slung it over his shoulder, then made his way
down. He saw her climb onto the ladder, begin the descent a few steps behind him. Reaching the rocky slip of beach, he stowed
their bag in the higher rocks like the other tourists had done. He slipped off his sandals and waited for her
to take off hers and step out of her shorts. Then he reached for her hand and
led her into the water.
"It's not warm,
Jim," she said as the water hit their thighs.
She was right. Fortunately, it was calm. "But it's warmer than the air. Give it a chance."
She surprised him by shallow
diving into the water, moving gracefully past him under the water with a strong
dolphin kick. He followed her, powerful
strokes and kicks catching him up to her, but not without effort.
She surfaced, smiling as she
brushed the hair out of her eyes.
"It's been ages since I've been swimming in the sea."
He treaded water, paddling
gently to keep upright, surprised to see that the sea was getting rougher even
as they got used to the water temperature.
A motion above him caught his attention.
He thought it was the woman from the shop standing there, watching
them. She turned and walked away from
the cliff edge.
"The waves are
bigger," Chapel said.
He noted that there was no
note of panic in her voice; she seemed to like the waves.
"When it's choppy like
this, it can be dangerous trying to get into the cave." He pointed toward the opening. "If you go in by rowboat, you have to
lie down or risk being scraped on the top of the opening. If it stays this rough, the boats won't come
in at all."
She only nodded, a fearless
smile playing at her lips.
He smiled back, knew it was
the same bold expression. He was in no
mood to play it safe either. "We
have to time it just right behind a swell or we'll brain ourselves on the top
of the opening."
"Okay."
"And watch out for the
chain. The oarsmen use it to pull their
boats in." He turned toward the
grotto. Watched as another
couple tried to work up nerve to get past the nasty swells and into the cave. They gave up and turned around.
Another group of tourists
swam near the entrance. They watched the
waves for a moment, then they too abandoned the
effort, heading for shore.
Several couples came shooting
out from inside the cave, laughing breathlessly, exclaiming at how close they'd
come to being pinned against the top of the cave entrance. One of the swimmers looked out at Kirk and
Chapel, shaking her head. "You
don't want to go in there. It's too
rough."
"We do want to go in
there. We came here to go in
there," Chapel muttered, surprising him with her stubbornness. "Coming?" She set out for the cave with a smooth and
easy side stroke, looking as if she could swim for days. He noticed that she barely broke the water as
she moved.
A mermaid. That was what
she looked like in the water. A mermaid.
She smiled as she caught his
look. "My mom used to call me a
waterdog. She could never get me to come
out of the water when we went to my grandparents' place on the bay."
"I grew up swimming in
pools and the pond near our house, and sometimes in the
She nodded. "The water feels like home."
"Yes. It does." He smiled as she turned back toward the
cave. The water did feel like home. The only thing that felt even more so was
space. And that was lost to him
now. He sighed, trying to push away the
emptiness he always felt when he let himself think about his future--his future
at a desk.
She slowed as they reached
the entrance, and he moved ahead of her slightly, trying to judge the timing of
the swells. The chop was making it
almost impossible to see through the entrance.
They were unlikely to make it by staying on the surface.
He turned to her. "How deep can you go?"
She grinned. "How deep do we need to go?"
"Follow me," he
said, pleased again at her daring. He
blew out quickly several times and then sucked in a large breath. He could hear her doing the same. Then he dove down deeper and deeper as he
headed for the entrance. The swells
seemed to push him along, more gently now that he was not on the surface. As soon as the light changed around him, he
headed back up. He heard her break the
water a second behind him.
They had the cave to
themselves.
He looked around, marveling
yet again at the beauty of the place.
The morning sun was hitting the water perfectly, coming in from an
underwater entrance as well as through the way they'd just swum. The sunlight hit the limestone covering the
cave, lighting the water up like a mirror, throwing azure reflections on the
cave walls and ceiling.
"My god," Chapel
said, then fell silent, turning to take in the wondrous color.
"And this is nothing
compared to later in the day when the boats come. But they won't let us swim in
then." The swells were gentler
inside the cave, moving him toward her.
As he bumped up against her, he reached out, pulling her close. "They used to have orgies in here, you
know?"
She giggled. "Who did? And how?" She kicked out slightly, moved her arms in a
gentle backstroke, pulling him with her toward the cave wall. Reaching back, she held on to a grip she
managed to find in the wet rock.
"Tiberius," Kirk
said. "From all accounts he was a
perverted old coot. Actually
moved the capital of the
She nodded. Her eyes gleamed blue in the cave, her face
colored by aqua and azure streaks as the light rippled off the water. He reached up, found a grip and held on tight
as he leaned in to kiss her. Her mouth
met his in a sweet touch. She wrapped
her free arm around his neck, swung her legs up to straddle him.
He deepened the kiss,
intensely aware of how her body was pressing against his. "Chris," he moaned. He was suddenly very willing to try to
recreate one of Tiberius's orgies.
She kissed him back,
passionately, wildly. For
a moment. Then she eased off,
finally pulled away.
He tried to see her face but
she looked down. He could feel her
trembling in his arms. Heard her make an odd noise.
"It's okay." He tipped her head up, saw that she was
crying.
"I thought I could do
this..." She looked away.
"But you can't?"
She shook her head. "I want to though. I want to make him pay. And you've been so nice..."
He kissed her gently, the
touch of his lips on hers meant to be friendly, and comforting. He wanted her to know that he expected
nothing from her. "It's okay, Chris.
You're not like him."
"I'm not like him"
she repeated, her voice so sad she sounded almost broken.
"Hey." He kissed her again. "Not being like him is a good thing in
my book."
She nodded. Leaned in to give him a
gentle kiss. Then
another. "I'm sorry. I wasted your credits."
"No, you didn't. We're here, aren't we? In the Blue Grotto? We got in when everyone else was
afraid?"
She nodded, a slow smile starting. "We did."
"We could stay here for
a while, on
"Stay here?" She looked tempted, then
her expression turned nervous.
"Not for sex," he
said quickly. "Just
to explore the island. For fun."
"Fun?"
He nodded, had to reach in
for another kiss. Her lips were so
soft. "You remember what fun
is? Because I barely
do."
"I think I vaguely
remember." She smiled. "I have time off. Before I report to my new
assignment." She looked away
again, as if afraid to tell him what that assignment was. "You heard?"
He nodded. "I read the crew manifest. Congratulations. CMO is quite an achievement. And on the
She laughed,
a slightly bitter sound. "An
achievement many think I don't warrant, I bet."
She moved her hand from
around his neck to his head, was running her fingers through his hair. He wondered if she was even aware that she
was doing it. It felt terrific and he
closed his eyes for a moment.
"You know Decker
personally, I take it?" he finally asked her.
"He's Tom's best
friend. And he's become mine too. I've been mothering and badgering him now
for a year. And he actually listens to
me."
Kirk nodded. "That's crucial in a good CMO. And why McCoy was so valuable to me. Because as much as I hated it at times, he
was never afraid to tell me when I was way off on something."
She nodded. "I think I can do that for Will. He pushes himself so hard. He's been trying to live up to his dad's
reputation. And live it down at the same
time."
Kirk nodded. "He's lucky to have someone who
understands him."
She kissed him again, sweet,
little caresses that barely touched down on his lips, his cheeks, his neck. He moaned.
"I shouldn't do that,
should I?"
"You can." He grinned.
"It's nice. It's
friendly."
She grinned back. "I think it's more than that."
He kissed her the same way
she'd done to him, heard her giggle when he touched a sensitive spot behind her
ear. "Does that mean you want me to
stop kissing you?" He gave her one
more for good measure. A long, gentle kiss on her lips.
When he pulled away, she
sighed. Then she smiled,
a closed-mouthed smile that was both sweet and very sad. "No, I don't want you to stop."
"Good." He let go of her, felt her unwrap her legs
from around him. "The colors change
in here depending on where you are. Come
on."
They moved through the cave
without speaking; the only sounds were the swell of the sea against the
entrance and the walls, and their gentle breaststrokes occasionally breaking
the water.
"It's breathtaking,
Jim." She rolled to her back,
stared up at the ceiling. "Simply breathtaking."
He smiled,
glad he could give her something nice.
"Yes, it is."
--------------------------------
Chapel yawned. She put her head on Kirk's shoulder as the
transport made its slow way back to
"It's time to go to
sleep in
"Just
a little nap? Please?
When we find a hotel?" She
wrapped her arms around him, snuggled in.
"Please?"
"All right," he
said, as if she'd asked for the world and he'd just decided to give it to her.
She chuckled, allowed her
eyes to close. "Wake me when we get
there?" She felt his lips on her
forehead.
"You bet."
She woke to the same gentle
caress.
"Wake up, sleepyhead."
She slowly sat up; they were
back at the transporter station. She
followed Kirk off the vehicle and into the busy plaza across the street. They walked for about three blocks, then he turned into an elegant hotel.
"This is the oldest
hotel on the island. I stayed here the
first time I visited." He bounded
up the steps, into the marble foyer.
She followed him more slowly,
taking in the lovely old style of the hotel.
When she joined him, he was looking at her thoughtfully.
"What is it?"
"They have one room
left." His voice was soft, pitched
so that only she could hear it. "With one bed."
"A big
one?"
He shook his head. Saw her reaction and said, "We can go
somewhere else. I'm sure--"
She touched his hand. "Get the room, Jim. We'll flip for the floor. Or we'll share the bed. No big deal."
He touched her hand where it
rested on his, then turned back around to reception.
She wandered over to where an
old woman sat at an easel working on a painting. Her eyes were closed, as if she was invoking
some scene and she hummed softly to herself.
Then she opened her eyes and began to dab paint onto the canvas.
"You like it?" she
asked Chapel without looking at her.
"Very much," Chapel
said. It reminded her of the painting of
the Blue Grotto that had so mesmerized her.
"What is this place?"
"The
Villa Jovis. Have you been?"
"No. We just got here."
"You had enough time to
swim though." The woman laughed
when Chapel started. "I can smell
the sea on you, my dear. Did you go down
to the
"No. To the Grotto."
"Which
one, child? There are many on this island."
"The
blue one."
"It is choppy today,
no? You must be very brave to try. Or the sea must love you?"
"I love the sea,"
Chapel said absently, captivated by the way the woman laid the color down. She watched in silence as the villa came to
life under her brush. "Is that what
it looks like?"
The woman laughed
loudly. "Oh,
heavens, no. This is what it
looked like when the Emperor Tiberius lived there. Now it's only ruins."
Chapel frowned. "How do you know what it looked like
then? Are you an archaeologist?"
"My sister works at the
villa. She is a guide there, takes me
all around. I love it there. Seems very familiar to me. But then, I feel very close to ancient
things."
"So do I," Chapel said, then immediately wondered why she'd
made such an odd declaration.
"
Chapel turned, saw Kirk
smiling at her. She nodded, then turned back to the painting. She felt as if it was drawing her in, pulling
her toward the travertine marble walls--
How did she know what kind of
marble Tiberius had used for his walls?
The woman was watching her
closely. She touched her brush to an
unfinished wall. "What color do you
think?"
"White. With pink streaks."
Chapel frowned. Why had she said
that?
The woman nodded. "Yes, I think so too."
She began to fill it in, just
as Chapel was seeing it in her mind, the darker color more of a rusty mauve
than a true pink, the white really a creamy yellow.
The woman glanced at
her. "I am Luca."
"Christine."
"You're friend is still
waiting, Christine."
"Oh. Right." She turned and hurried over to Kirk who was
smiling with amusement.
"Maybe you'd rather stay
with her?" he asked.
She laughed. "No.
It was her painting that intrigued me.
I felt as though I knew something about the place she was painting, but
that's impossible." She turned back
to look at the woman. "Have you
been to the Villa Jovis?"
He shook his head. "I ran out of time before I could get
out there. You want to go?"
"Could we?"
He put his arm around her. "We can go anywhere we want."
They rode the lift up to the
third floor and found their room. Kirk handed her two hospitality packages he'd
gotten from reception as he hung up their few clothes in the closet.
She stowed the toiletries in
the bathroom, then came out and joined him at the window. "Can we take a nap?"
He turned to look at
her. "You look like you need the
sleep."
She nodded unhappily. She had seen the shadows under her eyes, knew
she had looked better.
He seemed to read her expression. "I didn't mean that you look
bad." Then he leaned in and kissed
her again.
She relaxed and pressed
lightly against him, her arms stealing around his neck almost against her
will. God help her, but she loved
kissing this man.
He smiled as he pulled away
from her. "Let's get a little
sleep."
He set the chrono by the bed
and pulled the light cover open.
Removing his sandals, he waited for her to do the same, then he followed her into the bed. She rolled over to her side, facing away from
him, felt him move closer.
"Do you want to be
held?"
She smiled. Nodded. Felt him press up against
her. His arm came around her,
pulling her closer.
She closed her eyes, a warm
feeling of security flowing over her.
She was safe. Here, in this strange place she'd never planned to visit,
with this man she'd served with for five years but had never really known, she
felt safe. She decided not to analyze
the feeling to death, just closed her eyes and fell asleep.
-------------------
Kirk woke, unsure where he
was. He hit out at the alarm that was
trilling but the noise kept going. Then
someone reached over him and turned it off.
Lori?
He knew as soon as he thought
it that it wasn't her. He was in
"I feel sick,"
Chapel said blurrily.
"Get up. It's the only way to feel human
again." He threw back the covers,
his feet hitting the tiled floors as he walked into the bathroom. Staring at himself in the mirror, he wiped
his eyes. He'd looked better. He splashed some water on his face.
When he walked into the
bedroom, Chris had fallen back asleep.
"Oh, no you
don't." He crawled back onto the
bed, began to kiss her.
"Mmm,"
she said, trying to push him away.
"Not easy to wake up,
are you?" He kissed her some more,
laughing as she kept trying to escape him.
He realized she was laughing
too. He pressed his lips against her
neck, blew hard, causing the air to explode.
She giggled, then tried to push him away.
"I'm not a baby."
"You sleep like
one. Get up, Lieutenant Chapel. That's an order."
She opened her eyes, smiled
in a way that told him she was paying absolutely no attention to that
order.
He kissed her again, felt her
mouth open under his. Their tongues met
and he pulled away. "Chris?"
She was smiling lazily. "You're such a good kisser,
Jim." Then she closed her eyes and
rolled over.
"Okay, you give me no
choice." He whispered in her ear,
"Let's see where you're ticklish, shall we?" He'd barely touched behind her knee when she
sat up with a squeal.
"Okay, I'm up." She
crawled past him and he patted her on the rump.
"Hey!"
He laughed as she launched
herself at him. Falling back, he let her
pretend to hold him down. She leaned in,
kissed him slowly and very thoroughly.
He thought she might win some
awards in the kissing department too.
Then she pulled away. "Villa Jovis
is calling us."
He pulled her back to
him. They kissed for a long time. She fell to the side and he followed her,
their kisses deepening with each passing moment.
Finally, he drew away, was surprised
to find himself shaking.
"Chris. If we aren't going
to...then I don't think we should..."
"I know." She seemed shaken also. She moved away from him, sliding off the bed
and hurrying into the bathroom.
"Damn." Why hadn't he just kept his big mouth
shut?
She peeked out, stared hard
at him, then a slow smile began to cross her
face. "I'm not sure I meant not
ever."
He could feel a smile
starting. "No?"
"Nope." She winked at
him, then ducked back into the bathroom.
He sat up, waiting for her,
letting his legs swing idly. She came
out of the bathroom and walked over to him.
Pulling her in to stand between his legs, he rested his head against her
stomach.
"I don't care what
happens," he said. "I like
being with you."
"I know. Me too." She stroked his hair for a moment, then
pulled away, handing him his sandals and pulling her own on. "It's kind of weird."
"How
so?"
"We don't really know
each other. But...it's
comfortable."
He thought about that. They didn't know each other very well. "Maybe it's just that we share the
terrain we're both passing through.
Betrayal is a great unifier?"
She nodded. "I think that's possible." She sat down next to him. "But it's more than just that. I trust you.
But then, I always have."
She smiled at him.
Just as he'd always felt
somewhat protective of her. Ever since
they'd found Korby.
She'd been so brave. Even when her heart had been breaking.
She shrugged. "It is what it is. We can't change that."
He laughed. "Maybe it's magic?"
"There's no such thing,
remember?"
"Oh
yeah." He kissed her again, then pulled away and got
up. "Come on, Chris. Villa Jovis awaits."
He took her hand and led her
out of the room and into the bright
-------------------------------
The air was fresh, waking
Chapel up the rest of the way as she followed Kirk out of the hotel and into
the early afternoon sunshine.
"Do you mind
walking?" he asked. "It's
about a half hour from here."
"Sounds
nice." She walked over to a vendor selling beverages
and ice cream. "You want
something?"
"Surprise me."
She ordered them both
lemonades. Opening hers, she waited for
him to do the same, before tipping the plastic bottle toward him slightly. "To painful
endings."
"I'd rather drink to new
beginnings."
"You're right. To new beginnings." She took a deep swallow. The lemonade was very sour. She saw his face contort and laughed. "Maybe I should have ordered
water?"
"No. Bitter is good. Come on."
She followed him out to the
Via Tiberio, a winding road that took them uphill
through low brush and scrub. They walked
it slowly, not talking except to point out an interesting flower or a beautiful
view to the other.
She heard a harsh cry, looked
up to see a hawk flying. "Such a
sad sound," she said softly.
"I think he sounds
defiant."
"How do you know it's a
he?"
His look was sadder than she
liked. "Because
he's alone." He started
walking again toward where the road disappeared into a small pine forest that
skirted the cliffs.
She stared up at the hawk, it
seemed to circle, its wings sending some hidden message she could never hope to
decipher. She wondered if it had a
mate.
"Chris?" Kirk didn't sound impatient with her. Tom would have sounded put out if she'd
stopped to gawk at some bird. But Kirk
just stood waiting. As if he had all the
time in the world. As if life would only
ever be this moment, only just the two of them.
She hurried to him, took the
hand he held out to her.
"Sorry."
"Why be sorry? You were interested, you stopped to
watch." He smiled at her, a silly,
self-deprecating smile. "I just got
lonely."
"That's
terrible." She pressed against him,
kissed his cheek softly.
"I think so." His arms came around her, and he moved so her
next kiss landed on his lips.
They kissed for a long
time. Until the local
transport came by, some tourists leaning out of the windows to cheer them on.
"I didn't know kissing
was a spectator sport," she said softly as she pulled away.
"It wouldn't be if we
weren't in the middle of the road. We
were lucky they didn't run us down."
She laughed. "I think the locals are in favor of
amore."
"I think you might be
right."
They walked, brushing up
against each other as they moved.
"I like this." Chapel felt instantly stupid. The admission sounded so childish.
He didn't seem to
notice. "I like this
too." He shook his head. "The last few months with Lori...even
before I knew about the men, I was always saying the wrong thing. I felt like I had to be on guard, that I was
being judged every minute of the day."
"That's no way to
live." She crouched down to smell a
particularly vivid rockrose. The scent
was deep and resinous, with a spiky overtone.
She let it fill her, suspected it would always remind her of this place,
this moment, this man.
She looked up at Kirk. "I was happy with Tom." She sighed as she pushed herself back
up. "Completely
happy in my ignorance. I had no
idea what was going on." She shook
her head. "I think that's worse in
some ways."
"Maybe." He opened his
lemonade, sipped at it. "I think it
might be like this drink. I know it will
be bitter so it's not so bad now. But
the first sip...it was such a surprise when I expected it to be sweet and it
wasn't." He shrugged, started
walking again.
"Is that our
problem?" she asked as he caught up with him. "We expect it to be sweet. And life just isn't?"
"Maybe." He sounded
tired suddenly, tired and bitter like the drink.
They stepped into shadows; pines
lined the road, providing welcome shade after the long press uphill in the
bright sunshine. She glanced over at
him. His expression was still grim.
"Jim?" She waited
until he turned to look at her.
"You saved me. Do you know
that?"
He made a face, as if she was
giving him too much credit. "You're
strong, Chris."
"I didn't feel strong
last night"--she frowned, tried to figure out what day it
was--"tonight." She
laughed. "At the
gala." She saw him give her
an odd look. "I don't mean I'd have
done anything self-destructive. But I
think I was ready to give up on ever believing life could just be nice for
me. And then you came along and brought
me here."
He smiled softly. "Have you considered that maybe you
saved me? I've been sitting in my empty
new apartment for weeks now. All by myself and hating life." He took a deep breath, lifted his face to the
shuttered sunlight. "I wouldn't
have come here alone."
"Maybe we saved each
other?"
"I'll buy
that." He took her hand and
squeezed it. Then he pointed ahead. "There it is."
The path led out of the
pines, back into a huge cleared area where a multi-leveled ruin stood. Chapel tried to see the building that Luca
had been painting, but either the angle was wrong or her imagination was no longer
running wild.
The building perched on the
edge of the cliff, not built on it so much as into it. Every part of it would have had an amazing
view of the sea that crashed far below.
Near where they stood, a group of tables had been set up outside a small
shelter where food was sold. Several
people sat at the tables, enjoying a late al fresco lunch.
Chapel turned back to the
view. "Feel anything?" she
asked Kirk. "Some
affinity with that earlier Tiberius?"
"I envy his taste in
real estate," Kirk said with a grin.
"Must be all right to be emperor."
"And this was only one
of his estates." An old woman
sitting at the nearest table turned to them.
"He had twelve, one for each of the gods. This was the biggest and most beautiful by
all accounts."
"Hence the name,"
Kirk said. "Jovian
indeed."
She nodded. "Have you visited the ruins
before?" When they shook their
heads, she got up from the small table, dumping her trash into a receptacle
before joining them. "I am a
guide. Would you like a complimentary
tour to get you started?" She
didn't wait for them to answer, seemed to assume they would say yes. "My name is Thena."
"Interesting name,"
Chapel said.
The woman laughed. "It's short for something unbearably
long and Greek. My mother was going
through a classical phase when she named me.
My sisters didn't make out much better, although their names shorten up
much more cleanly."
"Do you have a sister
named Luca?"
"You have met Luca? You must be staying at
"We were there earlier,
at the Grotto," Kirk said.
"Swimming." It was not a
question.
Chapel laughed. "Let me guess. You can smell the sea on us?"
Thena smiled.
"I can always smell the sea."
She gestured out toward the vista.
"Here, on
"Jim," Kirk
answered.
"Christine," Chapel
said, saw Kirk grin and smiled back at him.
She didn't want to give his nickname for her away. Not to this woman. Not to anyone. It was nice having it just be for them.
"My other sister has a
shop at the Grotto," Thena said.
"Is that Ligi? She was very kind to us."
"Ligi is often very
kind." Thena's expression was
difficult to read. "She is the most
soft-hearted of us."
"You say that as if it's
a bad thing?" Kirk shot Thena one of his trademark grins.
Chapel was amused to see the
older woman seem to melt under the power of his smile. The man was dangerous.
"Sometimes, when there
is duty to be done, one must put the heart aside." Thena was watching
him carefully as she spoke.
His grin faded. "Yes.
I know."
"Often there is little
reward for that duty."
He nodded, his expression
becoming bleaker.
She touched his arm, her
voice very gentle as she said, "There is always a price for
greatness." She gestured toward the
ruins. "Like this place. So beautiful in its day that an Emperor
couldn't bear to leave it. So intricate
in its architecture and engineering that people still come to see it. And underneath it all a great rot." She shook her head. "People died here. Thrown off the cliffs because they offended
Caesar or drowned in the excesses that held sway in his grottoes, simple caves
he turned into nymphaeum during his hold on this
land." She pointed back away from
the cliff, toward the southern side of the island. "The tides used to carry the bodies into
the Marina Piccola.
Right past the Scoglio delle Sirene. The Siren's Reef." She sighed.
"They did not have to sing to lure those dead to shore."
She laughed suddenly, as if
at herself. "But come. You want to see the place, not just hear me
speak ill of it."
She led them through the
buildings. Explaining how the ancient
water tanks that heated the baths worked, showing them where Tiberius's private
rooms lay in the most secluded and secure part of the structure, then taking
them out to where a huge loggia had looked out over the sea. "Imagine how it must have looked with
the marble and alabaster, the beautiful mosaics. All long gone now. Worn away, or stolen away. All that is left is what you can
imagine."
Chapel smiled. "Your sister is filling in the
blanks."
Thena nodded.
"Yes. Luca's paintings are
very detailed." She led them away
from the cliffs, toward a smaller building.
"Scholars still argue over what this place was used for. But most think it was a specularium. A place where Tiberius could spend time
looking at the stars with the astrologer Trasillus."
"You share that,"
Chapel said to Kirk. "A
love of the stars."
He nodded.
Thena led them back to the shelter. "You can roam alone now if you
like. Or rest here." She pointed to a pile of blankets near the
side of the shelter. "It is
pleasant to sit under the trees and eat."
She smiled at them, the same way Ligi had on the transport.
"Thank you for the
tour," Kirk said.
"You should go back to
town by way of the Siren's Reef. At
dark, the Marina Piccola is outstandingly
lovely. And it is nearly a full
moon." She smiled. "Better to go tonight than
tomorrow."
"Why?" Kirk asked.
"Tomorrow is the winter
solstice. And the moon will be at full
as well. Local legends say that when the
swollen moon first lights the water on the longest night of the year a person
can look into the sea and see their true love reflected back to
them." She laughed. "The beach will be crowded with those
who wish to try. Everyone wants to
believe in magic."
"Do you? Believe in magic?" Chapel asked.
Thena shrugged, her expression amused. "
She turned and walked toward
a small group of people who had just emerged from the trees.
"I'm hungry," Kirk
said.
"I'm starving,"
Chapel said, realizing she had missed dinner or breakfast. The time change had her confused. She took his hand, pulled him toward the
shelter. "Come on. My treat."
To her relief, he didn't
argue. They ordered too much food, and
Kirk carried it and a bottle of wine, while she followed with a blanket and the
wine glasses. They found a place on the
ground, partly in the sun but with a nice tree for him to lean against. They ate until they couldn't stuff another
bite in, washing it down with the local red wine.
The food and the wine made
her sleepy and she lay back, her head leaning against
Kirk's outstretched legs. She stared up
at the sky. The hawk was back, wheeling
high above them. Then another cry
sounded and a second hawk joined the first.
She pointed up with a
smile. "See. He's not alone."
Kirk looked up, slowly
smiled. Then he leaned back against the
tree and closed his eyes. She watched
him for a few minutes before drifting off into a lovely torpid daze.
"Signore?"
Kirk felt someone gently push
his shoulder. He opened his eyes, saw the cook from the shelter. "Yes?"
"We are closing. It will be dark soon." He pointed to where a transport waited. "It is the last one of the
evening."
They needed to leave. Kirk stretched, could feel Chapel coming awake
as he moved his legs. The cook gathered
up their plates and glasses and left them.
"Time
to get up. If we want to make the
She nodded, slowly rolled
over and pushed herself to her feet. She
caught him watching her and smiled. It
was such an open expression that he felt something catch in his throat.
"I love it here,"
she whispered.
"Me
too." He stood, helped her fold the blanket, then carried it back to the pile.
They climbed onto the
transport. There were other tourists
already on board.
"The back's free,"
Chapel whispered.
He grinned, letting her push
him toward the empty seat. "Now why
would you want to sit back here?" he said as he sat down.
Her smile was wonderfully
devilish as she leaned against him.
Putting his arm around her, he laughed softly as she moved her hands
under his shirt, her skin warm against his.
"Why, Miss Chapel? Whatever are you doing?"
"Not a thing." She rested her head against his
shoulder. She seemed lost in thought,
but not unhappily as she stared out the window at the pines.
The driver came out from the
shelter, climbed on board.
"Dove?" he asked.
Most of the tourists called
out
The driver nodded, continued
around the bus then climbed into his seat and started the transport. The ride back to town was short and most of
the passengers got off; a few others climbed on for the Marina and Anacapri. They left
the town behind and started down some switchbacks so tight and twisty that they
made
The sun was just setting,
lighting up the sky. The moon, already
up, shone brightly as it hung over the sea, swollen, bursting with promise.
"Do you believe
it," he asked.
"Looking into the water and
seeing your true love?" She
sighed. "I'm afraid that I want to
believe it." She maneuvered around
a group of teenagers then walked across the street and to the pebbly beach that
led to the water.
"Why afraid?"
She shrugged; her expression
was grimmer than he'd seen it since they left
He shook his head. "I asked myself that a million times
when Lori and I first broke up. What
could I have done better? How could I
have made her happier?" He took a
deep breath. "I'm not sure it's
about us, though. And maybe it's selfish
of us to think it is. Selfish and too
much the martyr, saying we somehow deserved this."
"We didn't deserve
this."
"No, we didn't. And we didn't ask for it." He could hear his voice getting louder and
tried to scale back his emotions.
"Lori cheated on me because she wanted to. I can say that I didn't matter to her, not
enough for her to be faithful, but that just makes it about me again. She didn't stay faithful because she chose
not to." He frowned. He'd never tried to articulate it to anyone,
even to himself. "They chose to
cheat because it's in their nature to do that."
Chapel sighed. "But why? I was faithful. Why couldn't he be?"
Kirk shrugged. "I don't know. I probably won't ever know why Lori thought
it was okay to play around on me."
He sank down to the still-warm stones.
She sat beside him. Not touching him this time. But close.
He watched the moon's light
flicker on the water, moving with the gentle motion of the waves. Kirk had the sudden urge to go swimming. To go out as far and fast
as he could. To
float under that gravid moon. To
lie still beneath her bright light and just drift.
He felt Chapel's hand steal
onto his and clasped it tightly.
"I hate that they
cheated," she said.
"I do too." He sighed.
He had been happy with Lori at first.
Willing to do anything to make it work. Had that been his mistake? Had he been too easy?
He looked over at
Chapel. She was staring at the water, a
forlorn look on her face.
"I'm sorry." She leaned into him, didn't look at him.
He put his arm around
her. "I'm sorry for both of
us."
"Me
too."
Her shoulders shook against
him and he realized she was crying. He
didn't say anything, didn't even look at her.
Just tightened his hold on her and let her cry. When she finally pulled away, he let her
go.
She got up, turned to him and
held out her hand.
He took her hand but frowned
slightly, unsure what she wanted to do.
"The transport is
here. Let's go back to the
hotel." She pulled him up, moved in
close. "Back to
our room. And
our bed."
He said softly, "Are you
sure?"
She was already headed for
the waiting vehicle. "I've never
been more sure about anything."
He followed her into the
transport, sat down and shook his head.
"I'm not sure it's right."
She looked at him. "Why?
Because I was just crying?"
He nodded. Felt his jaw tighten.
"I think I needed to
cry. Just to get it out. And you let me." She studied him. "Maybe you're the one who's not
ready?" She smiled softly; it took
any sting out of the statement.
"Maybe you're
right."
She laid her hand on his
chest. "Heart's still
beating."
He smiled.
"And you're warm and
kind and alive. And so am I." She leaned in to kiss him. "If not now, when? If not here, where?"
He smiled. "If you're going
to be all poetic about it..."
She laughed,
a soft affectionate sound that made him feel steady, as if his course would be
true so long as she was near him.
"I guess it would be
okay." He looked to see her
expression, tried not to grin as he teased her.
"Now, there's the way to
woo a woman, Jim. I'm bowled over by
your enthusiasm." She smiled, but
it was a tenuous smile.
He suddenly felt bad. He'd just meant to tease, not to hurt. "Chris.
I've wanted you all day. That's
not the issue. I just don't want to hurt
you, or get hurt myself in the process."
"I'm not going to hurt
you. And I know you won't hurt me."
He shook his head at her
trust in him.
"No guts, no
glory." She laid her hand on his
thigh.
He was suddenly
excruciatingly aware of her touch.
"Is he ever going to get this rig going," he said under his
breath.
She laughed, seemed to
recognize his surrender. "Patience
is a virtue," she said as she settled back against him.
"He who hesitates is
lost."
"There's a saying for everything." She looked out the window at the moon. "It looks so big."
He nodded.
She turned back to him, her
eyes very soft. "I'll never forget
this place. Not ever."
"Neither will I." He kissed
her--a careful, controlled touch because he really just wanted to rip her
clothes off right there. His
self-imposed abstinence of the last few months suddenly wore on him like
sandpaper. He wanted her. Wanted to make love to her now, on the
transport, other tourists be damned.
"Patience,
Jim." She laughed.
Mercifully the driver stated
the transport and headed back up an even narrower set of switchbacks to
town.
Every moment was
torment. Of the best
kind.
------------------------
Kirk reached for Chapel's
hand as they got off the transport. She grasped
it firmly, the action seeming familiar somehow, automatic. As if there had never been a time when he
wouldn't think to reach for her and that she wouldn't think to reach back. They walked quickly through the square, were
back in their hotel before she expected.
He studied her face as the
rode the lift up to their floor.
"Chris, we don't have to do anything."
"I know." She noticed he hadn't let go of her
hand.
Their room was warm and
welcoming and Chapel pulled away from Kirk long enough to close the
draperies. Then she turned around,
stared at him.
"What?"
She shook her head, feeling
foolish. "I just want to remember
this. I want to remember how you
looked."
He nodded, seemed to be
staring at her too. Finally, he asked,
"Are you still doing this for revenge?"
She smiled, shook her head
slowly as she moved across the room to the bed.
He met her there. "You're sure?"
"Is that why you're
doing it?" She frowned, set a bit
off balance by having to ask him the question.
He sighed as he pulled her
closer. "I've had opportunities to
get revenge many times over and I haven't taken them." He kissed her slowly, softly. "This is because of you. Because of us and this island and how good it
feels to be with you."
She nodded. "Yes.
That's why." She kissed his
cheek. "And because you didn't
pressure me in the cave."
"I understood your
decision. I like this one better. We've both had time to think, time to calm
down. I want to believe you want me,
Chris, and not some random guy you can use to even the score with your
ex-boyfriend."
"You're not some random
guy. You'll never be that." She kissed him, not on the cheek.
He moaned. "And you'll never be that
either." He began to touch her, his
hands roaming all over her body, to places he'd studiously avoided
earlier.
She moaned too.
He slowly undressed her,
smiling in appreciation as each article of clothing came off, touching and
kissing each new place he exposed. She
did the same to him, wondered if she and Tom had ever taken this kind of time
to really look at each other. As Kirk's
tongue charted a path of sun freckles down her chest, she wondered if she had
ever known her boyfriend's body as well as she was learning his.
"You're skin still
tastes salty," he murmured.
She licked his neck, under
his ear. "Yours
too."
He pushed her down to the
bed, crawled over her, his expression intense as he joined with her. She pulled him closer, her short nails
digging into his back as he moved. She
closed her eyes, wondering briefly why she'd never fantasized about this
man. Loving him was amazing.
He smiled, pulled away and
rolled to his back, pulling her on top of him.
He closed his eyes, his smile growing larger as she moved against
him. "Chris."
His hands were everywhere and
she arched back, lost in sensation. She
could feel him going faster, could tell he knew how close she was, knew when to
let go himself so they crashed together, fell down, down, down the long cliff
face to a sea of their own making.
She collapsed onto his chest,
his arms coming around her, holding her tightly against him.
"Damn," he said
softly.
"My thoughts
exactly," she said with a dazed smile.
They lay quietly for a long
time. Then he kissed her cheek and she
moved her face so their lips met, tongues swirling around each other in
unhurried motion. Desire still there but
buried for the moment in this lethargic haze.
She realized he was staring
at her.
"What?" she asked.
"You're beautiful."
She smiled, shook her
head. "No, I'm not."
"Yes. You are." He kissed her again, this time not so
lethargically.
She felt him move under her,
pushing her off him, onto the bed to lie on her stomach. He began to kiss her back, and she realized
he was learning the landscape of her shoulders and back and ass the same way
he'd done in the front. As his lips
traveled down the small of her back, she felt a tickle start, shivered, tried
to pull away.
He held her down, licked and
kissed and laughed as she moaned and tried to escape his tickling. His hands moved down her thighs, stroking
gently, the touch extraordinarily sensual.
She began to feel guilty at the time he was spending on her, wanted to
touch him and tried to turn over but he held her down.
"Relax, Chris. We have all the time
in the world."
Then he found another way to
touch her, reaching down and forward, the unexpected angle of his fingers both
strange and intense. She couldn't think
anymore, couldn't think again until she had writhed and bucked and made far too
much noise--the tile floor gave the room amazing acoustics.
He drew her hips up a bit
until she was kneeling, moved against her, into her, curling his body around
hers, pulling her up. He held her
tightly, his lips at her neck, his hips relentless. She moaned as he moved, pushed back hard,
trying to give him as much pleasure as he was giving her.
She was glad to see that his
voice carried just as well in the little room as hers did.
"Damn?" she asked
softly as he collapsed to her side.
"I think that rates a
holy shit." He laughed,
his eyes slightly unfocused as she cuddled in next to him.
"We better stop before
we run out of expletives."
"I can be very
creative," he said with a warm grin.
"I bet you
can." She let her fingers run
through his hair, enjoying the way he pressed his head against hers, the way
his eyes closed and he sighed happily.
"I can swear in more
than thirty languages," he said.
She laughed. "Uhura taught me a few choice words
too."
He gave her a grin that was
just this side of evil. "Then we
should be set until morning." He
kissed her again. "At
least."
---------------------------
Kirk watched Chapel as she
lay stretched out next to him. She was
frowning, but it was more the frown of deep thought than of unhappiness. "What in the hell are you thinking
about?" He let his hand run up her
leg, smiled when she shivered.
She turned so that she was on
her side, facing him. "Math."
"You're thinking about
math? Right now?" He couldn't help it, he grinned.
She nodded solemnly. "Math and
relationships."
"Care to share?"
"Two shall become
one. That's what they sell us on."
He nodded. That was indeed what they used as the big
closing. "One
from two. Perfect
unity."
"Yeah." She narrowed
her eyes. "What's the only way two
numbers can add up to one?"
He was about to shoot off a
quick answer when she added, "No negatives."
He smiled. "Fractional
numbers."
"Right." She shook her
head. "I can't believe I never
thought of this before." She leaned
in. "We want to believe it's half
and half. But what if it's not? What if it's one-fourth and
three-fourths?" She thought about
it. "That might not be so bad. What if it's one-ninety-ninth and
ninety-eight-ninety-ninths? You still
end up with one."
"Yes, you do." He nuzzled her neck.
"But the level of
commitment sure isn't equal. You may end
up with one whole, but who's doing all the work?"
"What did you and Tom
have?"
She inhaled slowly, shook her
head. "I think six-seventeenths and
eleven-seventeenths."
He laughed. "And how do you arrive at that
number?"
"Just works for me. I was the eleven-seventeenths."
He nodded. He'd figured that out. "So in my case it was"--he picked
the first prime number that jumped into his head and turned it into a
fraction--"one-thirteenth Lori, three-thirteenths her flavor of the week,
and nine-thirteenths me." He shook
his head. "It's a depressing way to
think."
She nodded.
"What would you rate
us?"
She kissed him, a sweet, warm
touch on his lips, her body pressing against his. He pulled her closer, thought that he would
pull her inside him if he could. To keep her safe, to keep her just for him.
"Half and half,"
she whispered as she wiggled against him.
"I like the sound of
that." He rolled on top of her.
"Shit," she said.
"I'm good but I'm not
that good. We're not at the swearing
moment, sweetheart."
She pointed to the bedside
table. "No, your
communicator..."
"Oh, shit." He'd put it on vibrate at the gala, didn't want
to disturb the other guests. Had never changed it back.
It was vibrating itself nearly off the table. He reached for it. "Kirk, here."
"Jim? Where the hell have you been? I've been trying to get you for hours
now." Nogura sounded very put out.
Chapel bit her lip, made a
sheepish face.
"Something came
up," Kirk said, smiling when her shoulders started to shake.
"Well, I need you back
here. Now."
"I'm on leave,
Admiral."
"Your leave is
cancelled, Jim. Get back here now."
He saw Chapel's face fall,
knew his own looked no happier. "Aye-aye, sir.
I'll be there as soon as I can."
"Sooner! Nogura out."
"Nice guy," Chapel
whispered once Kirk had closed the communicator back up.
"No. He's not." Kirk eased off her. "I'm sorry."
"Duty
before pleasure." Her smile was sad, but resigned.
"This was more than just
pleasure." He kissed her.
"Was it?"
He mussed her already mussed
hair. "You know it was. It was connection."
She nodded. "Yes.
It was."
He touched her cheek briefly
then rose. "Stay here if you
want. I'll try to come back."
She laughed. "That was not the voice of 'Sure, go
back to
He shot her a rueful
glance. "You're right. It wasn't." He leaned down. Kissed her. "Stay here. Look in the water tonight." He showed her the chrono. "It's afternoon already. You have just enough time to eat and stake
out a good spot on the beach." He
put the chrono down with a sigh.
"And I have just enough time to shower and beat hell
back." He shook his head. "The one weekend I have plans..."
"Maybe there'll be other
weekends?" Her voice sounded very
tentative.
He looked down at her,
tenderness rushing over him. "Count
on it, Chris." Then he shook his
head again. "Until
you go gallivanting off in my ship."
"I don't have to
go." She stretched out her hand to
him.
"Yes, you do. It'll be good for you." He squeezed her hand gently. "I can wait for you to get back."
She nodded, a happy smile slowly
lighting her face.
She really was
beautiful. Such quiet
grace. He leaned down, kissed her
soundly then pulled away. "I have
to go."
She nodded. "Go.
Shower. And git. I'm sure
it's some crisis that only you can handle." She cuddled into the covers. "I'll sleep."
"Lucky
you." He was damned tired.
Turning, he hurried into the
bathroom, rushed through a shower and got dressed in his shorts and
t-shirt. He had a uniform in his
office. But what if he ran into Nogura
before he got there? Rebellion came over
him. If the old man was going to call
him in from leave, he could damn well deal with a casually-dressed Kirk for ten
minutes.
He padded back out to the
main room. Saw that Chapel had fallen
asleep, was tossing fitfully.
"Don't dream of
Tom," he whispered as he bent down to kiss her. "Dream of me."
His only answer was a quiet
moan.
He stared down at her,
wanting more than anything to crawl back into the bed with her and close his
eyes. "Duty before pleasure,"
he echoed her words.
He made himself turn and
leave her. The hallway was empty as he
hurried to the lift and through the lobby.
Thena's sister had set up her easel in the lobby again. She was singing softly as she worked. He glanced at her easel as he went by. The painting brought him up short. It was of the sea, still as glass with a full
moon shining bright upon its night-dark waters.
A lone figure swam, heading far out past the huge rocks that guarded the
harbor. On the rock closest to shore,
three women and a mermaid sat, watching the figure. He reached out to touch the mermaid, pulled
back at the last moment, realizing that he'd almost ruined the woman's work.
"Sorry," he
murmured. What was her name? Lupa? No, Luca.
Luca looked over at him. Their eyes met and he felt as if he was
falling into her dark gaze. She finally
looked away, releasing him from whatever spell he'd been under.
He blinked rapidly.
"Duty,
child?"
He smiled. She was older than he was, but not enough to
call him that. "Always
duty."
She smiled. "Ligi asked me to give you
something." She dug into her bag,
pulled out a small painting, one that looked very much like the one in the
museum. "She said Christine admired
this, which makes me happy since it is one of my favorites. She wants her to have it, says you are to
give it to her."
He tried to hand it back.
"She's still here. I'd take it up
to her, but I'm late."
Luca pushed it back into his
hands. "Give it to her later. You'll know when." She smiled.
"Now, go. Destiny awaits."
He doubted it was anything so
dramatic. For all he knew, Nogura didn't
want to have dinner alone with the Klingon
ambassador. Gagh
made him nauseous.
"I'll give it to
her."
She nodded, turned back to
her picture. "Remember to always
keep swimming. No matter how stormy the
water, you must keep going."
He frowned, not sure what she
meant. "Any
particular direction?"
She smiled slightly.
"Why in, of course. In and in and in.
Just like the Grotto, it will only get bluer as you find your
way."
He waited for more, but she
busied herself with mixing the dark colors she was using for the rough sea.
He looked at the picture
again. Hadn't the sea been still the
first time he'd looked? He shook his
head. He really was tired. Rubbing his eyes, he said softly,
""Good bye," then turned to go.
He could have sworn he heard
her whisper, "Good luck," as he walked away.
------------------------
The sea was dark--dark and
wind-tossed. Chapel sat on the rock near
the three, watching as Kirk swam away from them. She was herself but not herself. She felt different, stronger, thicker somehow. She
looked down. Saw that her legs were
gone. She wore a mermaid's tail; she was
a mermaid.
She looked back out at
Kirk. He did not seem to know she was
watching him.
"He will tire," she
said softly. Her tail quivered with
agitation. She longed to throw herself
into the water and swim out to him. Keep
him company as he went. Hold him steady
if he faltered.
"He is only human,"
the first of the three said.
"He is everything
human," Chapel whispered. "He
is a hero."
"He will have to
be. Something is coming. Something deadly," the third of the
three said. She sang a word to the sea
and it became rougher.
The first sang another word
and the sea calmed slightly.
Chapel looked to the second,
waited to see whom she would side with.
But she did not pay any attention to them.
"Ask what you will,
child," she said to Chapel.
"Please help him?"
Chapel asked, willing to beg if it would aid him.
"What will you give us
to help him?"
"I have nothing to
give."
"No wealth?" the
first asked.
"No."
"No rank?" the
third peered at her.
She shook her head.
"What of
position?" The second smiled. "Will you give up that for him?"
Chapel nodded. Yes, she had that. How could she have forgotten? She looked down. Her tail was gone, her legs back. Legs clad in Starfleet medical white. She was CMO.
"Yes, I will give up that for him."
"Keep his course
straight," the first said, as she began to sing.
"Be his anchor,"
the third said, joining her voice with that of the first.
"Believe," the
second said, pushing Chapel down to her back on the rock. The second opened her mouth, sang one
note. It seemed to crash into the melody
of the other two, gathering momentum as it built into a huge wave of
sound. "Believe," the second
whispered into her ear just as the world exploded.
Chapel jerked awake with a
start, breathing hard. She looked for
Kirk then remembered that Command had called him back. She grabbed the chrono, saw it was much later
than she expected. How could she have
slept this long?
She rolled out of bed, headed
for the shower. Dressing quickly, she
headed for the lobby. The sun was just
setting, the moon was already up. She
sighed in frustration. She would have to
hurry.
The transport was just
pulling away as she ran up. It didn't
stop for her. "No!" She wiped at her face, was surprised to find
tears. "No."
She heard a strange humming,
turned and saw Luca sitting on a bench watching her.
"Is there another?"
Chapel asked.
"Transport? No. Not if you want to get down to the
Chapel wiped at her face
again. "Do you have some way to get
there?"
"Why do you want to get
there so badly?"
Chapel looked down; she
wasn't sure what the answer was. Why did
she care so much?
"Child?" Luca patted
the bench. "Come, sit."
"I wanted to see
it. The magic." There, she'd said it. She wanted to believe. It suddenly seemed important.
Luca laughed loudly. "Oh, my sister sold you a good one,
didn't she?" She shook her
head.
"There's no magic?"
Luca looked at her with a
stern affection that surprised Chapel even as it touched something deep inside
her.
"Christine, don't you
know that the only magic in this world is what we bring to it?" She put her hand on Chapel's chest. "What we carry inside ourselves?"
Chapel nodded, but the
sentiment didn't make her feel any better.
Luca took her hand and squeezed
it the way her grandmother used to do when they'd sat on her grandparent's deck
and watched the sun set into the sea.
"Do you really need a full moon and a black sea to tell you who it
is you want to be with?"
Chapel looked over at her.
"Do you need a solstice
night to tell you what man has been kind to you, has
moved you? Has loved you?" Luca shook her head. "Do you need magic to tell you what is
in your own heart?"
Chapel laughed softly. "I don't even believe in magic."
"Do you believe in love?"
Chapel nodded, smiled slowly.
Luca chuckled. "You don't want to be on that crowded
beach alone, do you? Wouldn't you rather
be somewhere else...with him?"
She could feel her smile
fading. "But that's just it. I won't be.
I'll be up there." She
pointed at the darkening sky.
Luca pointed up. "But up there, it is where heroes live,
no?" She smiled. "Perseus is up
there. Orion. Castor and Pollux. I
think they'll welcome one of their own back among them."
Chapel shook her head. "You
don't understand."
"No, child, it is you
who do not understand." Luca
pointed toward a communications console behind them, just outside the
transporter station. "I think
someone is trying to contact you."
Chapel didn't stop to ask how
she knew, she got up and logged into the system. There was a message from Decker. "Get back here now, Christine. I need you onboard. Something big is up. I'll tell you when you get here."
She turned to Luca. "How did you know?"
Luca shrugged.
"I have to go." Chapel
realized she and Luca were the same build.
"Do you ever go out? Dress
up?"
"I've been known to
tempt a man or two in my day," Luca said.
Chapel smiled, turned back
and dialed the hotel. When the reception
answered, she said, "This is Doctor Chapel." The title still sounded odd to her. "There's an emergency. I'm checking out of my room."
"But of course,
signora. Your friend paid for the room,
everything is settled."
Chapel smiled.
"Thanks. There is a dress in
my room. I'd like Luca to have it."
He nodded. "I will see that she gets it. Come back to Capri someday."
"I'd like to." She signed off, turned back to Luca. "It's a nice dress. Cost me a pretty credit. Wear it in good health." She smiled softly.
"That is generous of
you." Luca gave her a strange
smile. "Such willingness to give
should be repaid."
Chapel waved her away.
"It's nothing." Her internal
clock was buzzing. Work was calling and
she could feel herself shifting out of leave mode. "Goodbye, Luca. I hope we meet again."
Luca walked over to her, put
her hand on Chapel's cheek. Her voice
was very soft, very lilting as she said, "Child of the sea, you will come
back someday. And I will be here. I am always here." Her smile was wry.
Chapel nodded, more moved
than she fully understood. She touched
Luca's cheek, mirroring her gesture, and as her fingers settled on the woman's
soft skin, Chapel could hear the roar of the sea and a terrible crashing sound. She flinched but then a melody rose up,
beautiful in its simplicity as a lone voice carried it. Then another voice joined in, singing
counterpoint, then a third, finding yet another way to meld the song. The three voices wove a sound so strong and
fierce it could hold a Kraken prisoner.
Chapel shook her head at her
own whimsy. She dropped her fingers and
the music stopped abruptly.
"I give back what I
took, or most of it. There must be some
sacrifice. Others will give everything
they have; you cannot be exempt," Luca said as she let go of Chapel.
"I don't
understand."
"I know," Luca said
as she hurried away.
Chapel watched her go, then forced herself to turn and walk into the transporter
room. As she stepped onto the pad, she
could see the sea through the open doorway, could just make out the full moon
shining reflecting on the water. She
stared at it until the transporter carried her home.
She called Decker from the
transporter station at Starfleet Command.
"Get up here," he said.
She beamed up to spacedock, then took a shuttle over to the ship.
Decker met her at the
door. "Where have you
been?" He shot her a worried
glance. She figured Tom had been talking
to him.
"Did you know about
her?" she asked.
He looked away.
Chapel shook her head. "He was your friend. I know that.
Your loyalty was to him."
She swallowed the lump of hurt.
She'd thought he was her friend too.
"I got your things. Figured you might not want
to go back." His eyes were
gentle, his smile sad. He touched her
hand briefly. "I put them in your
quarters."
He didn't press her to tell
him where she'd been or what she'd been doing.
Just quietly briefed her on what was going on, the threat they'd be
facing. As he left her in sickbay, he
turned to her. "I'm glad you're
here now. I can finally relax."
She felt a rush of affection
for him. Such a good
man. A decent
man. Despite what had happened
with Tom, Will Decker was her friend too.
Kirk walked slowly away from
Starfleet Command. His meeting with
Nogura had gone as he'd expected. The
Enterprise was his. He felt a thrill run
through him.
It died quickly. The Enterprise was his because he had to get
her out to meet the unknown entity that threatened Earth. A thing of unimaginable
destructive capability. He
sighed. His ship. His crew. For how long?
And Chris was on the
Enterprise. He had a sudden urge to get
her off the ship. Almost wished he'd
replaced her completely when he'd convinced Nogura to call Bones back into service,
instead of just demoting her to deputy.
It was selfish of him either
way. Keep her on Earth where she'd be
safe, and he'd be making her decisions for her.
If someone did that to him, he'd be furious at the presumption. But to keep her on board
because he wanted her near him?
Was that any better?
He sighed. She was on board because that was where she
was supposed to be. She was a little
lower in position because he needed McCoy there. She could be CMO to Decker, but not to
him.
He closed his eyes, saw
reflected blue, felt her lips on his.
She could be other things to him though.
God, he missed her already. Could not wait to see her.
He looked up, realized he was
standing in front of the museum. He
dashed in, smiling as he hurried back to the "Magical Places"
exhibit. Just one quick look and he'd be
gone. He stopped dead. The picture of
the Blue Grotto was gone. In its place hung a painting of Stonehenge. He walked closer.
"A beautiful work, isn't
it?" A man walked up to him. "I'm Miles Rayne. The curator here."
Kirk nodded at him. "It's amazing. But I prefer the one of the
Grotto." He couldn't keep the
disappointment out of his voice.
"The
which?"
"The
Blue Grotto. In Capri." Kirk wondered what the hell kind of curator
this fellow was anyway.
"Oh, I quite agree that's
a beautiful spot. But we do have to go
with what's in our collection, I'm afraid."
"I don't
understand. You had a painting of the
grotto here yesterday. At the gala."
"No, sir, we
didn't." The curator smiled gently,
as if Kirk was a very old man on the wrong side of senile. "Perhaps at some other
museum? Who was the
painter?"
Kirk tried to remember what
Chapel had read off the card.
"Lucas? Lucasia?"
"Leucosia?"
"Yes. That's it." Kirk smiled.
The curator laughed. "Oh, that's a
good one. You had me going there for a
moment. Fortunately, I'm a great fan of
mythology."
"I don't
understand."
"Leucosia
was one of the sirens."
Kirk felt his smile
fade. "The
what?"
"The
sirens. Three of them. Leucosia, Ligeia, and Parthenope. They lived on Capri."
"Did a brunette doctor
put you up to this?" Kirk couldn't
imagine she would do that, but perhaps she had a bizarre sense of humor?
"No,
sir." The curator looked slightly
uncomfortable.
If Kirk hadn't been an
admiral, he believed the man might actually call for security. "I'll be going now."
"I think that would be a
good idea."
Kirk hurried out, working his
way back to Command. He'd come out on
this walk to get a last feel of terra firm.
Now he felt shaky. And he couldn't
afford that. Not with this thing coming
straight for his home planet. Not when
his ship would be all that stood between it and the total destruction of Earth.
Someone was playing a joke on
him. Only he didn't know why. And he didn't have time to worry about it.
He hurried to the
transporter, beamed directly to Spacedock.
Scotty was there to meet him. Just seeing him made Kirk feel more at ease. Everything was as it should be.
He went to the bridge, felt
the welcome of his old crew, also felt the suspicion and resentment of Decker's
crew. They'd have to become one
crew--his. They'd have to do it
fast.
He hurried down to
engineering, broke the news to Will. He
tried to tell himself to go slow, be gentle.
Tried to remind himself of how he would
feel. But in the end, he blurted it out,
didn't sugarcoat the truth. Decker was
no longer captain. End of story.
He pushed down the guilt he
felt. He knew what Decker was
feeling. Knew how much it would hurt to
have the ship yanked away from him. But
Kirk couldn't afford to care about that.
He was the best man for the job.
And it was the only way to
get his ship back.
God help him. Even if he wasn't the best man for the job,
he'd do this to get his ship back. Even if just for a while.
And it didn't matter why he was in charge, the
fact was he had the center seat now. But
he'd need Decker on this. Couldn't afford to push him away too far. Not with a brand new ship under him, a ship
he didn't know as well as Decker did.
An alarm went off, pulling
him out of his reverie. Transporter malfunction.
He and Scotty ran down to the transporter room. As they went, he felt his blood racing. This was the life he was meant for. This was the life he was supposed to
live. Not on the ground. Not at some desk.
He was the right man for the job.
His exhilaration faded as he
watched Rand fighting with the controls.
He pushed her aside. "Give it to me." He caught a glimpse of the bioscan,
realized one of the two people trying to beam in was Vulcan. God, no. Not Sonak. Kirk had recommended him for this job. Had wanted to give Decker
that. What he'd had. A Spock of his own. Was this how it would end?
He tried to resolve the
pattern buffers before they formed. But
he failed.
"Starfleet, do you have
them?"
"Enterprise, what we got
back didn't live long. Fortunately."
Rand was staring at him, her
expression tight, almost angry. What the
hell had he been doing? He'd pushed her
aside. Why hadn't he let her do it? Would she have been able to save them? Why had he thought he should take over?
"Starfleet, Kirk. Please express my condolences to their
families. Commander Sonak's
can be reached through the Vulcan Embassy."
"There was nothing you
could have done, Rand. It wasn't your
fault." He couldn't bring himself
to finish the sentence. Let it hang out
there and wondered if she heard it. The
silent, "It was mine."
"Sir?" Rand's voice
was soft, but there was steel underneath.
She was angry with him. "The
other person wasn't a crewman."
He turned back. "No?"
She shook her head. "It was Admiral Ciani."
He felt as if he'd been suckerpunched.
"Lori?"
Rand nodded. "She said she had a message for
you."
Kirk took a step toward her.
"She had no business on this ship.
You let her beam aboard for a personal visit?"
"I didn't 'let' her do
anything, sir. She is...was an
admiral. She ordered me to beam her up
with Commander Sonak." Rand swallowed heavily.
Kirk could feel his jaw
tightening. He'd hated Lori, wanted to
kill her himself at times. But this? He'd just
witnessed her death--possibly been the cause of it--and hadn't even known.
Scotty stepped close to
him. "Sir, the
overload. There's nothing you could have done."
Kirk shook his head, walked
out of the room. Lori, Sonak. The
Enterprise hadn't even left Earth and he'd lost two people he cared about. How many more would be lost before this was
done?
---------------------------
Chapel heard the doors open
but didn't turn around. People had been
streaming in and out of sickbay for hours, bringing in final supplies, making
final adjustments. If they needed her,
they'd ask.
"I brought you
something." The voice was close,
husky. And sounded
tired.
She turned around, saw Kirk
and frowned. "What are you doing
here?"
"I took the ship."
"You
what?"
He looked down. "I took the ship away from Will."
She closed her eyes, imagined
Will's pain and anger. "Oh, Jim."
Then she nodded to her office.
"Come in."
He nodded. "You're his CMO, Chris. I don't expect you to support this
decision."
She had a sudden
flashback. A rock, a
mermaid's tail. "What will
you give," someone had asked her.
What would she give for what?
She saw that he was holding
something behind his back. "You
said you had something for me?"
He nodded. "I'm going to take something away
too. Which do you want first?"
Position. She'd given
her position. The dream came crashing
back. Kirk swimming in
the waves. She had wanted to help
him. The three had wanted something from
her. And she'd given up this.
"How are you going to
get McCoy back?" She smiled softly,
felt an odd mixture of relief and anger at his action. She'd never expected to end up with CMO as
her first posting after finishing her degree.
But now that she'd had it for a few hours, she wasn't sure she wanted to
relinquish it. Not that she was going to
have a choice.
He didn't seem surprised that
she'd figured it out. "Nogura
reactivated him."
She'd always told McCoy to
read the fine print. On
alien booze bottles and on his contracts with Starfleet. He never did.
This time it would bite him in the butt.
Or in her butt.
In someone's butt, anyway.
"Chris? Say something."
She took a deep breath. "I'm mad."
He nodded. "I expected that."
She sighed. "But I understand. I can't be your CMO." She shrugged.
"I can see why you want him."
She looked down. "Especially when Spock isn't
here."
"And
isn't going to be here." He shook his head. "I need Spock, need him badly. But he's out of reach."
"I wish he were here,
for your sake, Jim."
He nodded. Looked at her with a
resigned, slightly forlorn look.
"So, what's behind your
back?" She smiled, deciding to let
her demotion go.
He handed her the small
painting she'd retrieved for Ligi on the bus.
"Oh." She stroked the
frame gently, admired the way Luca had captured the blue flashes on the Grotto
wall. "You went back?"
He shook his head. "Ligi wanted you to have it. I ran into Luca when I left. She gave it to me to give to you."
"Why didn't she give it
to me herself?"
He shrugged. "She seemed to think it was important
that I give it to you." He touched
her hand, where it rested on the frame. "When
I think of the Grotto, I'll only ever think of you."
She thought she heard a note
of finality in his words, felt tears well unexpectedly and turned quickly,
setting the picture down on her desk.
"Thank you for bringing it."
"Chris?"
"I have work to do, Admiral."
"Captain." He moved
closer to her. "And it's Jim in
here."
She nodded. Tried to act nonchalant and then ruined it by
sniffling too loudly. She felt his hands
on her arms, sniffled again.
"What is it?" he
asked.
She laughed,
the sound came out shaky and bitter.
"It was just a fun day, right?
I mean, now that you're back."
She touched the picture again.
"At least I'll have a place in your memories."
He chuckled and she turned to
him frowning. Was this a joke to him?
"You goose." He pulled her close and she was glad she'd
closed the door behind them because he kissed her, gently, but with a promise
of more than just that friendly kiss.
She was very confused. "So you still want..."
He nodded. "We may not survive this. You do realize that?" He touched her cheek, rubbed away a tear that
had worked its way loose. "I almost
had you transferred off. To keep you safe."
She shook her head. "I'd have killed you."
He smiled. "Provided that thing
out there doesn't do it first."
"Oh, I'd have still
killed you." She felt herself
grinning.
"Well, now you don't
have to. Because I
didn't do it. Couldn't
do it." He sighed, his
expression utterly tender. "I
couldn't let you go."
She frowned. "Won't you have to? I'm in your chain of command."
"Temporarily. When this is
over, Nogura will yank me back and give the chair to Will." He kissed her again. "I need to know you're with
me." His voice dropped oddly. "I don't want to lose you."
She pulled back, and he
looked away. She frowned. Jim Kirk never looked away. "What is it?"
He swallowed hard. "Did you hear about the transporter
accident?"
She nodded. She'd heard there'd been a tragedy, but
Starfleet Command had been the ones to deal with medical assistance...or clean
up. She shuddered. She'd seen the results of a similar
accident. The bodies had been
unrecognizable.
"It was Commander Sonak."
"Jim, I'm sorry. I know he was a friend of yours."
He nodded. Something darker in his expression made her
wince for him.
"It was Lori. The other person was Lori." He sat down in her desk chair, wiped at his
eyes as if trying to stop any tears even though he didn't look as if he was
going to cry. She noticed his hand
trembled slightly.
He pulled her to him, the
same way he had in their room in Capri, resting his head against her stomach
and wrapping his arms around her.
"I stepped in, Chris. Got in Rand's way.
Grandstanding or something...I don't know." He looked down. "I killed her."
"No, you
didn't." Chapel stroked his
hair. "A transporter malfunction
did that. You were just caught in the
middle."
"I grabbed the controls,
as if Rand couldn't do it." He took
a shuddering breath. "And the worst
part, Chris. The worst part is that I
didn't even know it was Lori."
Chapel could only nod.
He laughed sourly. "Actually the worst part is that I don't
know how I feel. She hurt me. I loved her, but that love is so caught up in
pain. She was coming up to see me and I
don't know why. I hurt inside and
yet..."
"And yet you
don't?" She waited to see what he'd
say, settled for his tight nod. "You were divorced, Jim. She hurt you.
Very much.
I think it's natural to feel torn, to feel guilty over not feeling worse
about her death." She sighed. "Let it go for now. Grief takes time to manifest. Maybe...in time..."
He nodded.
"Besides. You have that
thing to stop."
He looked down. "What if I'm not cut out for this? Decker implied--"
"--Then Decker was wrong." She
could tell he was surprised at her vehemence.
"Decker is a friend, and a damn good officer. But if I have to go and face death in this
ship, I'd rather have you a million times over than him. You'll get us home again. You always do."
He smiled. "Such faith in
me."
Chapel remembered Luca's
words at the transporter station.
"Like it or not, Jim, you're a hero. And you belong with the other heroes. In the stars." She leaned down, kissed him, trying to put
all her belief and trust in the touch.
"You'll keep me
true," he said when they pulled away.
"That's why I couldn't send you away. It was selfish, but I needed you here with
me. Just as much as I
needed McCoy." He took her
hand, brought it to his lips. "I'm
sorry I demoted you."
She shook her head. "No, you're not. Now, don't you have a ship to get ready for
launch?"
He nodded, took a deep
breath. Before her eyes he seemed to
channel all the things that made him the great captain. His back straightened, his jaw became firm, his eyes grew steely.
And as she saw him drape the mantle of leadership over the real man, she
suddenly knew how much being captain cost him.
"I'm here for you,"
she said softly. "Whenever
you need me."
"Thank you."
She looked over at the
painting. "And if I get to keep
you, I can live without being CMO."
He smiled. "CMO might have been a better deal than
I will be."
She pulled him close and
kissed him again. "I had Uhura
teach me a whole bunch of new swear words.
I did that for you, not for CMO."
She smiled. "Given the
choice, I'll take you."
He smiled softly, turned to
go.
"And
Jim?"
He turned.
"Given the choice, the ship'll take you too.
She knows who her man is."
He laughed. "I hope you're right."
"I am." She watched him walk out then finished
unpacking her office. It was nearly the
same size as the other offices. McCoy might
have taken her position, but she'd never agreed to give this up. He could pick one of the others. If he stayed true to form, he'd spend most of
his time near Jim anyway.
And besides, like Jim had
said, Nogura would yank him back and McCoy would go with him. Decker wouldn't want anyone but her for
CMO. He'd made that very clear.
----------------------------
Kirk walked briskly to the
transporter room. More
elated than he wanted to admit at the thought of seeing McCoy again. He'd regretted that he hadn't been able to
let old wounds heal, that he hadn't reached out to the man who had been one of
his closest friends.
He missed the wit, the
acerbic tongue, the glint McCoy got when he was going to pull rank--his CMO to
Kirk's captain. Kirk missed the man who
kept him from running aground.
Kirk nodded to
Kirk's grin faded as he
remembered the scene earlier. How could
he smile, how could he laugh over this?
Did he want McCoy to end up as a pile of goo the way Lori and Sonak had?
McCoy's rant after he beamed
in broke into Kirk's thoughts, pulling him out of the dark downward trail
they'd been taking. Kirk let him go on,
tried to explain what they were facing.
Finally he said, "Bones,
I need you badly." He held his hand
out to his friend. For a moment, he
thought McCoy wouldn't take it. Then he
finally did.
Kirk felt a broad smile cross
his face.
McCoy turned to
She sounded delighted when
she said, "Permission granted, sir!"
McCoy headed for the
door. "I hear Chapel's an MD now; I
need a top nurse, not a doctor who'll argue every diagnosis..." His grumbling was eventually cut off by the
door closing behind him.
Kirk laughed softly, then hit the intercom.
"All decks, this is the Captain.
Prepare for immediate departure." He let the comm
circuit close, then turned back to
She nodded. "It's all right, sir." She busied herself with adjusting some
settings.
He walked toward her. "No.
It isn't." He sighed, leaned
up against the terminal.
"She was your wife,
sir. I understand why you were
angry." She looked down. "I'm the transporter chief, I should
have told her no."
He shook his head. "I wouldn't have wanted to be in your
shoes if you'd tried." He shot her
a rueful smile. "Lori didn't take
being told no well."
"And next time I'll let
you handle it. I probably made things
worse."
She shook her head. "I didn't like being pushed to the side,
sir, but I can't let you think that. I
watched you; I'd have taken over if I'd thought that you didn't know what you
were doing. But you did. You did everything any of us
could."
"Thanks,
Janice." He felt a little bit of
the guilt he'd been carrying ease.
She smiled shyly. "It's good to have you back,
sir."
He nodded, left her with a
last smile. It was good to be back, even
if his return was only temporary.
Chapel sat at her desk,
absently touching the Grotto painting.
She'd been happy there. On
Kirk could be ruthless when
he needed to be. And Chapel knew he
needed to be. What was the Vulcan
saying? The good of the many outweighs
the needs of the few--or was it the one?
There had been a time when Chapel had memorized Vulcan sayings for the
hell of it. Now, she found herself
rusty.
She sighed as she thought of Ilia's happy smile as the Deltan
had helped Chekov. The loving way Ilia
had looked at Decker. The way she'd
looked at Chapel herself. Decker's friend, therefore Ilia's.
All snuffed out. Torn away from them and then cruelly returned
to mock Decker with her presence. So
close. So very close to the real thing
at times. But not the
real thing.
Not at all
the real thing.
"I need you out here,
Christine," McCoy said softly.
She looked over at McCoy, a
feeling of security folding over her as she watched his face. He'd taken her spot, but it was like old
times having him around. She'd worried
that he'd treat her like a nurse still, but he treated her like any other
doctor. "What's wrong?"
"Spock went out
there. The damn fool tried to meld with V'Ger." McCoy
was angry, really angry. "No damn
emotions and he goes out to make it worse by finding
unity with that killing machine."
She closed her eyes. "Jim?"
"Brought
him back in. A crash team is on its way."
She nodded, stood up. Waited with him by the
diagnostic bed. She realized
McCoy was staring at her.
"What?"
"Just wondering how Tom
was?"
She hadn't thought about Tom
or what he'd done for a long time. At
least two hours. She fought back the
bitter smile she could feel beginning and shrugged.
"What's that supposed to
mean?"
She saw that McCoy was
interested in her answer, in what she was feeling, how she was doing. She could tell him about Kirk if she wanted
to. But it was like being called Chris. She didn't want to share it. "Tom and I broke up."
"How
come?"
"He was seeing someone
else," she let her tone indicate finality, didn't want to discuss it any
longer.
"I'm sorry."
She nodded tersely, was saved
from having to find something else to talk about by the arrival of the
gurney. The orderlies moved Spock to the
biobed. He
stared up at the ceiling, no reaction when she walked over to him, began to
scan him.
She watched Spock's eyes, saw
them change, awareness filling them.
Then he laughed.
She almost jumped at the
unexpected sound.
Kirk and McCoy rushed to the
bed.
"Jim." Spock reached out for Kirk's hand. He seemed to be fighting to get words
out. "This simple feeling is beyond
V'ger's comprehension."
Chapel watched as Kirk's face
eased, and she could see the tension draining away from him. Tension she had recognized unconsciously
since she'd first run into him at the gala.
Had he carried it for the last two and half years? Ever since his best friend
had abandoned him?
Spock spoke of V'ger's origins, of its barrenness. Its need for meaning and
hope. Its
search for answers. This killing
machine was no different than any of them?
Searching for answers in all the wrong places, hurting anyone who got in
its way?
The intercom chimed, Uhura
and Sulu updated Kirk as Chapel watched him, trying to assess his mood. Trying to figure out what he was
thinking. He seemed unreadable at this
moment. The captain
and only the captain. She was
having a hard time seeing the man she'd explored
Kirk looked at her. "I need Spock on the bridge."
It wasn't in Spock's best
interest, no more than it was good for Decker to be squiring around that
probe. But it was necessary. It was what had to be done.
She turned to a med tech,
ordered, "Dalaphaline, twenty cc's..."
McCoy walked over to a
monitor, was watching Decker and Ilia as they walked around Engineering.
Kirk motioned Chapel into her
office. He stared at the Grotto
painting, then brought up the external viewers on her
terminal. V'ger showed the same vivid
blue.
"How deep can you
go?" she asked softly.
He looked over at her, then
back at screen. "How deep do we
need to go?"
"Pretty
damn deep."
"In
and in and in." He shook his head. "No matter how stormy it gets."
"What?"
He smiled tightly. "Advice from a
siren." He touched her
hand. "We could die out here."
Her voice was rock
steady. "Then we die
together."
"Will Spock be all
right?"
"I think so." She grimaced.
"I hope he stops smiling soon.
It's creepy."
He laughed. "It's better than the automaton who first arrived."
"He was pretty chilly
when he got back. I was so sad for
you."
He studied her, seemed to
hesitate. "Not for yourself?"
She frowned, shook her head.
"You used to have
feelings for him, Chris. He could return
those now."
She laughed. "It wasn't my hand he was just holding
so sweetly, Jimbo."
He laughed out loud at the
nickname, then scowled at her. "Don't ever call me that again. But you have a point."
She could tell he still didn't
feel one hundred percent secure with this.
"Just ask what you want, Jim."
"So, given the
choice..."
She clucked in
exasperation. "My god, you're being
needy." She moved closer to him,
their shoulders touching as she said quietly, "Given the choice, mister
best sex of my life and, oh yeah, best damn day of my life, I'd choose
you."
He smiled, and she
smiled. That had obviously been the
right answer.
"Maybe I do a feel a
little needy."
"Well, don't. You've got me, whether you like it or not." She ducked a look out the open door; McCoy
was still watching Decker and Ilia. She
kissed Kirk's cheek quickly then whispered in his ear, "Besides, I bet
Spock doesn't swear very well."
"I'm sure
not." He grinned at her. "You're good for me, Doctor." He touched her hand again.
"I do try."
"You don't have to
try." He winked at her, seemed to
be trying to throw his bravado back on.
"I need to go check on Will and that probe. You get Spock to the bridge."
"Aye-aye,
sir."
He looked back at her, as if
to see if she was kidding around or had taken offense at his order. She frowned slightly, then realized he hadn't
expected her to switch that quickly back into professional mode, to reply as
protocol dictated.
He smiled at her. The kind of smile that
seemed to say that the two of them could make it--providing they actually came
out of this alive.
---------------------
Kirk watched, entranced as
Decker and Ilia merged. Their bodies glowing, their expressions intense. Perfect rapture, perfect
sharing.
Perfect
death. For him and Spock and McCoy if they didn't
get back to the ship before the support that had been V'ger disappeared. He turned away, hurried back to the ship.
His ship,
where his crew waited. He wasn't giving her back to Nogura. Not with Will gone.
He wasn't losing her again.
Nogura didn't agree. Not at first.
But he was dealing with possibly the only person more stubborn than he
was. And the guy who
knew all his dirty little secrets.
Kirk smiled as he signed off
the intercom in his room. He could
stay.
The ship was his again. He leaned back, closed his eyes and let the
hum of the ship fill him. She was his.
His smile grew bigger. Someone else was his too. He got up, hurried down to sickbay.
"Bones," he nodded
as he saw McCoy getting ready to leave for the evening.
"I thought you'd be
sleeping. You look all in, Jim."
Kirk nodded. He was tired, had felt his strength beginning
to crash as he'd realized he'd won the argument with Nogura. "I'll turn in soon. I just need to talk to Chris."
"Chris?" McCoy turned to look at her. "Christine. You have a visitor."
She looked up from her desk,
out the open door, saw him and seemed to hesitate, then finally got up and
joined them. "Captain?"
"Chris?" He smiled at her, trying to cajole a smile. Unsure why she was acting so strangely.
McCoy was looking at him
suspiciously. But more like a concerned
father than a jealous rival. Kirk almost
laughed at the way his friend was scowling.
"Something you want to
tell me, Christine?" McCoy asked.
She actually stuttered for a
moment. "W-we were having a
conversation...on Earth and it was..."
Kirk took pity on her. "Interrupted. And we'd like to finish that conversation,
wouldn't we, Chris?"
She nodded gratefully.
Kirk shot McCoy a grin. "If that's okay with
you, Bones?"
"Have her home by
eleven." McCoy smiled. Slightly.
"I'm a little old for a
curfew, Len," she said as she let her hand drop on his shoulder, squeezing
slightly.
McCoy's smile turned
real. "Kids today," he said as
he turned away.
Kirk led her out of
sickbay. "Are you hungry?"
She shook her head. "Tired mainly."
"Me
too. I thought we could go back to my
place?" He tried to load a lot of
Lothario into his smile.
She laughed. "Fine."
"Isn't that the CMO's office you're in?" He shot her a grin, admired her for not
giving the office up. It was the kind of
thing he would have done. "I'm
staying, you know."
She nodded. "And so is McCoy. I figured that, what with Will becoming the
big beam of light." Her expression
darkened. "Do you think he's
dead?"
"I don't
know." He saw her look down. "I know he's gone. How do you feel about that?"
She shrugged. "I miss my friend. But he's with her now. With the woman he loved. I can't begrudge him that."
Kirk turned into his
quarters. "I can't either."
"Not when you got the
ship back. The woman you
love." Her grin was teasing now.
He was glad to see her
smile. "Fortunately, she's willing
to share me with you." He drew her close, kissed her the way he'd wanted to since he got on
board.
When they finally pulled
away, she softly ran her fingers under his eyes. "You look so tired."
"But still
handsome?"
"Oh,
always that." She carefully pulled off his uniform then
eased him onto the bed, taking her own clothes off and following him down. She cuddled in beside him as he pulled the
covers up over them.
She was so warm against him,
her body fitting against his so perfectly.
She rubbed his chest softly.
"I miss
He realized he'd never told
her about the museum. She stared at him
in disbelief as he told her of the painting that wasn't there.
"But we saw it."
"Yes, we did. But the curator of the place had never heard
of it."
She shook her head.
"I thought at first you
were playing a joke on me." He
turned slightly, so he could see her face better.
"That painting made me
want to go to
"And made me want to
take you there," he agreed.
"You think..."
He nodded. "Three old
yentas."
She laughed. Then she did it again, this time it was a
sound of realization. "Doctor Cardosa was at the conference, the one that let out early,
made me go home too soon?" At his
nod, she continued. "He said Doctor
Earley had to cancel because he had some bad
seafood." She shook her head. "Do you think they planned for me to be
there alone at the gala, ready for you to rescue me?"
"I think it's very
likely."
"Sirens?"
"We met Apollo. Are sirens so far out of the realm of
possibility?"
"And they were
old." She smiled. "Retired sirens. Lends some credibility to
their story."
He nodded.
"So maybe there is
magic?"
"Maybe there is."
"Luca tried to make me
think there wasn't. Only what's inside
of us."
He smiled. "You have plenty of magic inside of
you." He kissed her gently.
She kissed him back, her lips
sweet and strong. "However it
happened," she said. "I'm glad
that we ended up there."
Her words were happy. But she didn't meet his eyes.
"You okay?"
She nodded, curled in against
him more tightly, her head pressed to his chest. He began to rub her back.
"I knew you'd save us,
Jim." She yawned.
"Close your
eyes." He smiled as he watched her
do it.
She felt so warm against him,
so soft. He sighed, finally letting
himself relax. His two women surrounded
him, filling him with their energy, their soft sounds bringing him immeasurable
ease. With a smile of surrender, he
allowed himself to just drift.
--------------------------
Chapel woke up with a
start. Her head was on Kirk's chest and
he was playing with her hair. Each time
he dug his fingers down through her hair and across her scalp,
it sent little shivers through her.
"How long was I
asleep?"
"Not long. If you want to sleep, we'll sleep."
"I'm okay. Unless you want to
sleep."
"I do
eventually." He shot her a grin.
She tried to give him the
same expression back. Knew she failed
when he frowned.
"You were awfully
squirrelly around McCoy tonight," he said softly.
"I haven't told anyone
about us," she whispered.
"Any particular reason
why not?"
She swallowed the lump in her
throat, said, "I guess--" her voice cracked and she started
over. "It was easier to believe in
this when we were probably going to die and nobody knew about us anyway. But they're letting you keep the ship. This isn't a one-shot deal."
He didn't say anything for a
long time and her heart began to sink.
Then he kissed her on the
forehead, the gesture too tender to be a goodbye. "Remember the hawk we saw?"
She nodded.
"He flew with his
mate. With her, Chris. In the air. Free.
Open." He touched her cheek,
pressed his hand against her skin.
She leaned in hard. "Not always. She wasn't there at first."
He grinned. "She was probably in sickbay. Doing something
medical."
"Oh." She was grinning too. "You're probably right."
"I want you with
me. I need that. And it's just possible that some mythological
old ladies arranged it so we'd be together.
It would be awfully rude of us to disregard that." He saw that she wasn't convinced. "McCoy will write your evaluation, Spock
will be the reviewer. I'll be out of the
loop. And you know I can't influence
either of those two for or against you."
"True." She felt something inside her start to
settle. "Do you believe they were more than just women?"
He nodded. "The picture wasn't there, Chris. And I ran a quick check in the
databases. Leucosia
isn't listed as a contributor to any museum collection. But she is listed as
one of the sirens." He shook his
head, as if not quite believing what he was saying. "They were sirens."
"Doesn't
make any sense, Jim. The sirens spent a lifetime luring people to
their death, not saving them." She
sighed. "Why would they care about
us?"
"They didn't." He
chuckled. "They cared about
themselves. And their sea. And their island. If V-Ger destroyed Earth, they and everything
they cared for would die too."
"Self-preservation is a
good reason." She smiled. "You were the hero they needed."
He shook his head. "Not the only one. They needed Decker too. They needed him to be in a position to want
to merge with V'ger. He had to have
nothing left to lose. So that he could
give everything he had."
"So they brought you
here? The old hero"--she saw him
wince at her words--"the more experienced hero to rein the new hero
in?"
"To
point him in the right direction. To make him ready for
sacrifice." He sighed. "But they had a problem. I was a flawed hero. A tired one. With no reason to fight
anymore, no reason to take on the kid." He kissed her. "So they gave me a reason." He smiled, an easy
expression full of affection and respect.
"They gave me someone who would fight beside me. Who would swim with me, even in dangerous waters."
"And they did seem to
see us as kindred spirits when it came to the sea, didn't they?"
He smiled. "Yes, they did. I think Ligi called up that storm to test
us. If we could get into the grotto, we
were the right pair."
"Or just two people
crazy enough to work for what they had planned."
He laughed. "That's
possible too." He pushed her
over. "I'm tired of talking about
sirens. I'd rather talk about my own sea
goddess."
She rolled her eyes, but
inside his words made her feel warm and soft.
"I don't want to give this up, Jim.
I'm crazy about you."
He raised his eyebrows. "Is that the safe way of saying that you
love me?"
She nodded slowly.
He kissed her. "Well,
I'm crazy about you too, Chris." He
moved, eased into her, taking his time.
She moaned. Over and over and over
"Ready to show off those
new swearwords you said you learned?"
He grinned in admiration as
she did exactly that. A few seconds
later he chimed in with his own repertoire.
She scowled at him. "Okay, no fair. Half of those were in Klingon. Everything in Klingon
sounds like swearing."
He kissed her. "Not my fault it's a volatile
language."
"I'll have to learn some
Klingon," she whispered as she cuddled in
against him.
"We'll go to the Klingon homeworld on our next
leave. I hear they have a very good
language school," he said, a gentle lilt in his voice.
"If you can survive the
recess," she shot back.
He laughed. The sound filled her, swelling inside her and
making everything feel light and clean.
He was such fun.
"Maybe you're
right," he said. "And I'd hate
to run the risk of having some lusty warrior take a fancy to you."
She grinned. "Or to you."
He laughed again, pulled her
in closer.
"I want to go back to
He sighed, his arm pulling
her closer. "The sirens were
supposed to be seeresses as well as temptresses. They saw V-Ger coming; they'll see us
coming. They may not want to be
found."
"Maybe
not. In that case, we'll just have to explore the
island some more. I bet the other
grottoes are much more conducive than the Blue Grotto to...umm swearing, if you
get my drift?"
He smiled. The smile was sweet and tender and a bit
wicked. As he kissed her then closed his
eyes and relaxed against her, she felt a strange fluttering in the pit of her
stomach. She wondered just how fierce
this feeling that she had for him would become, had a strong suspicion that
loving Kirk would be different than anything she'd ever known. Different and more intense
and more real. And somewhere on
a magical island they had just saved from destruction, she thought that there
were three retired sirens who would probably agree.
FIN