DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters are the
property of Paramount Studios, Inc and Viacom. The
story contents are the creation and property of Djinn and are copyright (c)
2013 by Djinn. This story is Rated R.
Taken by Surprise
by Djinn
Kirk
walked into sickbay when his shift was over, still a little stunned that he was
being allowed to keep the Enterprise
after commandeering it from Decker.
He saw Chris sitting in her office, walked over, and leaned against the
door, watching her work until she finally noticed him.
ÒCaptain Kirk. How does it feel?Ó She grinned at him.
ÒI
donÕt know, Doctor Chapel. How does it feel to get what you
wanted?Ó
Her
laugh was the sweet one heÕd gotten to know very well while he was on
Earth. Spock had left for Gol, Bones had left for Georgia, and Chris, well, Chris hadnÕt left.
SheÕd been there. For
dinner, drinks, vids. TheyÕd both
needed to blow off steam. She from
med school, and he from a job he hated and a marriage gone wrong much too fast.
ÒSo,Ó
she asked, motioning him in and then calling for privacy once he moved. The door closed and the screen in the
window looking out to sickbay went dark.
ÒDo I stay?Ó
ÒStay?Ó
ÒHere. On the
ship?Ó She was watching him with a
very serious expression.
ÒWhy
wouldnÕt I want you to stay?Ó
ÒWell, you have your real friends back, donÕt you?Ó She sighed. ÒI mean you made Will
tell me I was demoted. I sort of
thought that might be a message about the second string no longer being
needed.Ó
He
sat down. ÒYouÕre not the second
string.Ó
ÒNo,
I was the only string.Ó
He
took her hand, squeezed it gently.
ÒThere were plenty of people who would have been happy to go to dinner
with me or surfing in Cabo. You were the only person I wanted to
spend time with. Not some kind of
sad default.Ó He started to
laugh. ÒAlthough you canÕt surf
worth a damn.Ó
She
smiled and rolled her eyes. ÒI told
you that when you suggested it.
ÔJim,Õ I said, ÔI cannot surf.Õ
But no, you had to say anyone can do it if they put their mind to it.Ó
ÒWell,
in my experience they can.Ó He
started to laugh again. ÒUntil
you.Ó
ÒShut
up. Just shut the hell up.Ó She was laughing, too.
ÒI
didnÕt tell Decker to tell you that you were demoted. He just did it and told me heÕd done it,
and then I knew I was in trouble.Ó
He squeezed her hand.
ÒFriends still?Ó
ÒSo
you would have told me?Ó
ÒChris, for all I knew, the demotion was temporary. Bones and I should have been off the
ship as soon as VÕger was taken care of. ThatÕs why I didnÕt tell you—I
didnÕt think it would be for very long.Ó
He gave her the gentlest smile he knew how. ÒAnd now IÕm here to tell you it
is. Do you want to stay?Ó
ÒYes. Because we are
friends. And deputy is still
a cushy posting for a newly minted doctor.Ó She finally squeezed his hand back. ÒAnd IÕm glad you got your ship
back. I know how unhappy you were
without it.Ó
ÒYouÕre
the only one who does.Ó He leaned
back. ÒYou want to go get a drink?Ó
ÒYeah. I could use one after working on reports
all day. I may come to long for
those halcyon, report-free days of being a nurse.Ó
ÒSomehow,
I doubt it.Ó
As
they walked to the lift, she put her hand on his arm. ÒCan we go change first? I despise these new uniforms. They are so unforgiving.Ó
ÒI
think you look great. But we can
change. I hate them, too.Ó
ÒYes,
thatÕs why you love to wear the one that shows off those arms.Ó She laughed when he tried to make a
ÒWhat? Me? Show off?Ó look. ÒIÕm almost sorry to deprive myself of
that.Ó
They
rode the lift to deck five, and he hurried off to change into civvies, met up
with her a few minutes later. She
was in a sweater with a really deep v and he tried to keep his eyes up. ÒYou forget a tank top with that,
toots?Ó
She
looked down and started to laugh. ÒOh,
shit. Hang on.Ó
He
watched her run back to her quarters and then come back out a moment later,
tank of the same dark green color as the sweater in place. ÒSorry, I had a message waiting and it
sort of threw me. I donÕt normally
forget the part of my outfit that makes it socially appropriate.Ó
ÒI
know you donÕt.Ó Although sheÕd
looked damned good in what heÕd allowed himself to
see. ÒWho was the message from?Ó
ÒSpock.Ó
ÒOh.Ó He waited.
ÒHe
wanted to have dinner. I, uh...I
told him no.Ó
ÒNo,
never? Or
no, maybe some other day?Ó
ÒI
think the latter, but IÕm not sure.Ó
ÒHmmm.Ó He let her go onto the lift first, then told it to go to deck eight. ÒWould you rather have dinner with him?Ó
ÒYes,
and thatÕs why I said no to him.
Jim, stop it. WeÕre having
drinks. That was the plan. He sent the message fifteen minutes
ago. ItÕs a seizure invitation.Ó
He
started to laugh. ÒA what now?Ó
She
smiled. ÒThere are the invites that
come with plenty of notice. That
you understand are made with some actual desire for your company because the
guy is working for it. And then
there are the ones that come minutes before the event. Why? Suddenly the guy couldnÕt live without
your company? No. Either his first choice cancelled and he
needed a last-minute replacement, or heÕs just bored. So: seizure. Imperfect analogy maybe, but itÕs what
my roommate in college used to call them and itÕs stuck with me.Ó
ÒWell,
not that I really want you to run to Spock and leave me friendless, but to be
fair to him, I did just sort of pop in and ask you to have a drink with me.Ó
ÒYes,
but we do that. We have a history
that says we do that. Spock and
I...our history is a tangled mess of me wanting him and him not wanting
me. So he has to work a little
harder at it, thatÕs all IÕm saying.Ó
ÒBut
I get to skate?Ó
She
laughed. ÒYes, you get to
skate. ArenÕt you glad I didnÕt
have a crush on you all those years ago?Ó
ÒNot
really. Would have simplified my
life a lot. Might not have lost the
ship.Ó
She shook her head, but her smile was sweet and full of understanding. This woman had seen him at his very
worst and liked him anyway.
He
grinned at her. ÒYou could have
transferred to science when you got bored with nursing instead of leaving the
ship. I could have skipped the
whole Lori thing.Ó He closed his
eyes. Someday the thought of his
ex-wife would not fill him with a huge sense of failure.
She
rubbed his back. ÒDo we have to do
the ÔI hate LoriÕ song to make you feel better? Because I will if I have to.Ó
He
laughed. ÒNo, we donÕt have
to. We retired that song before you
reported to the ship, remember?Ó
ÒI
know. But now everythingÕs
different. So if I have to, IÕll
sing. Really, really badly.Ó She winked.
ÒIÕve
missed you.Ó He sighed
happily. His ship
back. His friends back. This wonderful woman
his, too, again.
The
lift door opened and she led him down to the rec lounge. As they neared the door, he saw Spock
coming from the other direction.
ÒDoctor
Chapel. Jim.Ó He gave them a long look.
ÒSpock.Ó Chris ducked away, heading for the bar.
Spock
watched her go and his brows knit down ever so slightly.
ÒAsk
her a day ahead. A gal likes to
feel special.Ó Kirk smiled at him.
SpockÕs
frown grew. ÒShe told you I invited
her to dinner?Ó
ÒShe
did.Ó
ÒMuch
has happened in our lives that we have not shared. Is your involvement with her one of
those things, Jim?Ó
ÒI
donÕt recall you blabbing about your plans to ask her to dinner, my friend.Ó
ÒPlease
do not deflect. Are you with her?Ó
ÒTonight
I am. As a
drinking buddy. I can get
very drunk if I want because she always brings the antitox. She did on Earth.Ó
ÒAh. You were...friends?Ó
ÒWe
were. We still are. That a problem?Ó
Spock
looked into the rec lounge and shook his head. ÒNot at all. My decision to ask her to dinner was
impulsive and no doubt emotional.Ó
Kirk
waited, unsure where Spock was going with that assessment.
ÒI
will give it much thought before I ask again. Enjoy your evening, Jim.Ó SpockÕs voice was back to normal, his
expression untroubled.
Kirk
watched him go, then joined Chris at the bar. ÒCoward.Ó
ÒIf
heÕd seen my answer, I didnÕt want to discuss it. If he hadnÕt, I still didnÕt want to
discuss it.Ó
ÒOh,
you messaged him an answer? You
didnÕt actually talk to him?Ó
She
nodded and drained her drink, then motioned over the crewman on duty as
bartender. ÒIÕll have another and
heÕll have a scotch, single malt.Ó
He
smiled. ÒWhat are you so afraid
of? If he wants you, arenÕt you
happy about that? You sure sounded
happy to see him when he showed up.Ó
ÒI
was surprised. He did not figure
into my plans any more than Len taking my job did.Ó
ÒAnd
what about me?Ó
She
smiled. ÒYou, IÕm not so worried
about. After all, I know your dirty
little secrets from the past year.
Like Raelyn.Ó
ÒOh,
God, please donÕt bring her up.Ó
The woman heÕd picked up while on vacation in Paris, just before heÕd
started seeing Lori. The woman whoÕd
followed him back to San Francisco.
WhoÕd thought they could be more than just a weekend fling.
HeÕd
set her straight. His tact was low
those days. His
patience with bullshit nonexistent.
HeÕd been upfront in Paris about what he was looking for; sheÕd said she
was just looking for fun, too.
It
had been dealing with the aftermath of just looking for fun that had sent him
into LoriÕs arms and what he hoped would be domestic bliss. Bliss hadnÕt worked any better than a
fling—not while he was stuck on Earth.
ÒI
wonÕt bring her up if you donÕt bring Spock up.Ó
ÒFine.Ó He took the drink the bartender brought
him, held it up to her, and smiled when she clinked her glass against his. ÒTo not talking about them.Ó
ÒIÕll
drink to that.Ó
##
Kirk
woke up...somewhere. Why the hell
was it so dark in here? He started
to get up, felt gentle hands on him.
ÒJim, lie back down.Ó Chris. Chris was here.
He
felt some of the panic recede. ÒWhere
am I?Ó
ÒSickbay.Ó
ÒI
canÕt see.Ó He tried to get up
again.
She
pushed him down, and he fought her.
ÒItÕs temporary, Jim. I
promise. Your eyes are fine. But you have to rest.Ó
He
felt exposed. How many people were
watching him right now?
ÒJim,
itÕs natural to panic, but listen to me, listen to my voice. ItÕs just us in here. The lights are down low. No other patients. Please calm down.Ó She stroked his hair, and he reached up
and grabbed her hand. ÒThatÕs
right, breathe and relax.Ó
ÒWhy
canÕt I see?Ó
ÒDo
you remember getting hit on the head during your fight with the Capriall commander?
It was a hard hit, according to Spock. You seemed dazed after it. It was because you had some swelling on
the brain. Len took care of that,
but the area around your optic nerve is inflamed. Once it calms down, youÕll be able to
see. Sleep is the best thing.Ó
ÒI
canÕt sleep.Ó
She
sighed softly. ÒIÕm going to help
you with that. After you eat.Ó She pressed a soft tube in his hand. ÒNutrition gel. I didnÕt figure youÕd want to try to eat
a regular meal right now.Ó
ÒYou
figured right.Ó He sucked the gel slowly. ÒGod, why canÕt they make some flavor other
than lemon-lime?Ó
She
laughed. ÒI put in a request for
Scotch, tequila, and beer, but so far, weÕre stuck with fruit flavors. And you hate cherry and grape.Ó
ÒYou
remember that? From our last voyage?Ó
ÒYep. I hate the cherry, too, but I have this
childish love of grape. My dad used
to take me to the zoo in the summers, and heÕd always buy me a snow cone. Grape was my favorite. The syrup turned my lips and tongue dark
purple.Ó She was rubbing his arm as
she talked, the sound of her voice soothing him more than any drug would do.
ÒI
loved those things. Lemon-lime
was—ironically since IÕm whining about it now—my favorite. I always got brain freeze because IÕd
wolf mine down and order a second one.Ó
ÒToo
bad you didnÕt have me around to show you my handy-dandy remedy for that.Ó
He
smiled. Her remedy worked like a
charm. Who knew pressing under the
eyebrow could relieve that kind of pain?
He
finished the gel and handed it to her.
She took it, and then walked away for a moment. He followed the sound of
her boots, heard what sounded like a hypo being loaded up. Then she walked back.
ÒBy
the time you wake up, you should be able to see.Ó
ÒNot
yet. Stay and talk to me for a
while? Unless you have a hot date
with Spock?Ó
ÒSpock
has not repeated his invitation.Ó
He
grimaced.
ÒWhat?Ó
ÒI
mentioned the other night when you dashed off and left me with him that he
should have given you more notice.
He and I had an odd conversation about you. I may have...scared him
off. If you want, IÕll try to make
it right.Ó
She
laughed, a true sound of amusement, the laugh he loved to hear—it was so
spontaneous and rich. ÒDo you
honestly think you could scare him off if he really wanted me? You know how competitive he is. You play chess with him enough to know
that.Ó
He
smiled. ÒThatÕs true. So itÕs not my fault?Ó
ÒWell,
I canÕt say that you may not have given him the wrong idea. Suddenly his comment while you were
unconscious that heÕd leave the two of us alone makes a lot more sense.Ó
ÒIÕm
sorry. I know you love him.Ó
ÒI
barely know him. Socially, I
mean. Professionally, I think heÕs
grand. The old crush occasionally
tells me heÕs aged well. But IÕm
not in love with him anymore.Ó
ÒNo?Ó
ÒNo. Stop worrying about it.Ó
ÒTell
me youÕre in love with Uhura or Rand, so I can fall asleep with that image in
my head.Ó
She
snorted, and he laughed at the sound.
She only did that when he took her by surprise with something
funny. ÒYeah, right. Both of them, Jim. IÕm in love with both of them and we
have nasty, hot, girl on girl on girl sex all the time.Ó
ÒOh,
my dreams are going to be so sweet.
And you all think of me when you do it, right? How someday youÕll invite me in?Ó
ÒNever
let it be said youÕre not a typical guy.
What makes you think IÕd share you?
Although I guess in that scenario, sharing is a given.Ó
He
nodded and knew his grin was his goofy one.
ÒStop
it. And itÕs not going to happen, anyway. Sorry to burst your
little fantasy. Spock asked Ny
out.Ó
ÒHe
did?Ó
ÒYep. And gave her lots of notice, so your tip
was useful even if not for me.Ó
ÒAre
you okay with that?Ó
ÒYes,
I am. To my
shock. She looked so unsure
when she came to tell me. She asked
me if it was all right. Of course I
said yes. I really donÕt think he
was ever interested in me. It was a
more a kneejerk, remnants of VÕger thing.Ó
ÒHeÕs
an idiot, then.Ó
She
leaned in—he could tell by the subtle smell of her perfume—and
kissed him on the forehead. ÒLetÕs
leave them be, all right? What
Spock and Ny do is their business.Ó
ÒIÕm
all for that.Ó He looked at where
her voice was coming from. ÒI hate
not being able to see.Ó
ÒI
know. But by tomorrow, youÕll be
fine. Now, mon capitaine, are you
ready for your nightcap?Ó
ÒYes. Thank you. You always make everything better.Ó He felt the cold metal against his arm,
heard the hiss, then felt bliss in the form of
sedatives and who knew what else filling him. ÒLove you.Ó
ÒI
love you too, sweetie.Ó
ÒNo,
Chris, I...Ó He
yawned and tried to keep his eyes open, but the medicine was too strong. ÒI really love you,Ó he managed to say,
but it came out mumbled and resembling no known language.
ÒGo
to sleep, Jim. ItÕll all be better
in the morning.Ó
He
surrendered to the blackness calling him, her hand on his arm the last thing he
knew before he fell asleep.
##
Kirk
woke and smiled as he looked around.
He could see. He could see
everything: the other biobeds, the sickbay lights set
on low, and the woman sleeping in a chair sheÕd pulled up next to his bed. She did not look very comfortable, so he
reached over and stroked her knee until she came awake.
ÒOh,
God, Jim, IÕm sorry. I wanted to be
awake before you were.Ó Chris
rubbed her neck.
ÒCrick?Ó
She
nodded then reached for the medical scanner and ran it over him.
ÒSo?Ó
ÒSo,
you are fine. Perfect male specimen
except for your predilection for getting yourself hurt on landing parties. Why donÕt you let Spock lead the next
one, huh?Ó
ÒIs
that because you think Spock is more capable of avoiding injury than I am or
because you care less if he gets hurt?Ó
ÒUh
uh. Not
answering that.Ó She smiled, a
silly smile, and he grinned back. ÒOne
thing I know: heÕs not going to offer to take on a man three times his mass. ThatÕs what I mean. Are you even thinking before you leap?Ó
ÒI
am. ThatÕs probably not going to
help my case, is it?Ó
ÒNope.Ó She pushed him down to his back, scanned
him again.
ÒDo
you always rescan patients, Doctor?
DonÕt trust your own work?Ó
ÒShut
up.Ó
He
started to say something else and she held her finger over his lips and said,
ÒKeep up the smart comments and I will cut off all booze. IÕll put the fear of God into the
bartenders and reprogram the synthesizers.
Now, let me work.Ó
ÒWow,
you play dirty.Ó
ÒI
like having you around. I want to
make sure youÕre okay before I release you because I know youÕll be off doing
things that donÕt equal rest. So
humor me, please.Ó
ÒAll
right.Ó He watched her work for a
moment, then said, ÒSo you care...?Ó
ÒOf
course I care. I slept in the
goddamn chair of doom.Ó She glared
at him.
ÒI
liked seeing you there. Well, to be
honest, I loved seeing, period, but then when it was you I was seeing—it
made me feel good. Safe.Ó
She
held her hand on his cheek. ÒWhat
would I do without my drinking buddy?Ó
He
put his hand over hers, pressed hers more firmly against his skin. ÒPay for your own drinks?Ó
She
started to laugh. ÒJust for that,
youÕre on salads for a week.Ó
ÒOkay,
but we have shore leave in three days on Starbase Thirteen, and they have a
great steak restaurant I was going to suggest we go to. But if IÕm on salads, then I guess
youÕll have to go alone.Ó He bit
back the grin that was threatening to split his face. ÒItÕs hard to get into. Very hard. Unless, say, youÕve
saved the quadrant from a big killing machine. Having done that once or twice, I
apparently rate a table any time I want.Ó
She
rolled her eyes. ÒFine. No salads.Ó She turned the scanner off and sat
down. ÒAnd you donÕt have to take
me. IÕm sure thereÕs a nice girl on
the starbase.
Maybe another Raelyn?Ó
ÒMiaow. Of
course IÕm going to take you.Ó
ÒBecause
I wonÕt stalk you after?Ó
ÒBecause
if you do, I wonÕt mind.Ó
She
smiled and looked down. ÒThatÕs a
very nice answer.Ó
ÒItÕs
just the truth.Ó He reached out,
and she took his hand. ÒCan you
discharge me? IÕm starving and
donÕt want another of those gels.Ó
ÒFine.Ó She walked over to the terminal, and the
biobed pinged as she closed his case.
ÒDo
these new beds capture readings at discharge?Ó They were more comfortable than the old
ones, even if they looked less so.
Was it a bad sign that he could comment with authority on the comfort of
beds in sickbay?
ÒYep. Improvement to the old
ones where it wasnÕt automatic.
One doctor whose name I will not say but sort of rhymes with decoy forgot
to log his in a lot of the time.
But he had me around and knew IÕd do it.Ó She walked back over to him. ÒOld reliable, thatÕs me.Ó
ÒThatÕs
not how I think of you. That sounds
dull. YouÕre anything but.Ó
ÒThank
you.Ó Her eyes were sparkling, more
than usual or maybe he was just so ecstatic to be seeing her eyes that it
seemed that way.
ÒHave
breakfast with me.Ó He glanced at
the chrono.
ÒWe have time. Unless you
need more sleep. If youÕre tired,
then—Ó
ÒI
could eat.Ó She helped him off the biobed. ÒI hate
those gels, too. Had a grape one
for dinner last night because I didnÕt want to leave you. I think grape is not as yummy as I
remember.Ó
ÒLike
I said. IÕm never wrong,
Chris. You need to get used to
that.Ó He winked to let her know he
was kidding—mostly. ÒGet to
work on that scotch flavor.Ó
She
laughed. ÒAye aye,
sir.Ó
##
ÒSo,Ó
he said, the night before they were to dock at Starbase Thirteen, ÒI have an
odd question for you.Ó
Chris
turned away from watching the crowd doing some new dance in the rec lounge and
raised her eyebrow in a creditable impression of both Spock and McCoy.
He
bit back a laugh. ÒBones doesnÕt
have plans.Ó
ÒI
know. You want to include him in
our dinner plans?Ó
He
nodded. ÒBut if you want it to just
be us...?Ó
ÒIÕm
fine including him. WeÕre all
friends, right?Ó
ÒWe
are.Ó He turned to see what had her
attention again. ÒWhat the hell is
that?Ó Was he getting old? The dances the younger members of his
crew were doing just didnÕt look like dancing to him. But then heÕd learned the classic dances
from Ruth, all those years ago.
She
laughed. ÒItÕs dancing.Ó She waved at someone, and he saw Rand. She was in the middle of the crowd and
waved back, but Kirk thought her look changed from someone having fun to
someone pretending to have fun.
Chris
didnÕt seem to notice, so he turned back to the bar. ÒI am not dancing with you.Ó
ÒEver? Or just that?Ó
ÒIÕve
danced with you plenty. On Earth. And
IÕll happily dance with you again if thereÕs ever a chance to engage in real
dancing, where you hold your partner, not grind up against her.Ó
She
started to laugh. ÒWhen did you
become such a fuddy duddy,
Mister T is for Tomcat?Ó
McCoy
came in and made a beeline for them.
Kirk
ordered him a drink and patted the stool next to him. ÒTake a load off, my friend. Ambrosia is on its way.Ó
ÒBourbon?Ó
ÒNo,
blended Canadian. Of course bourbon.
Do you think I lost my memory when I got hit on the head?Ó
McCoy
smiled and took the glass from the bartender, ÒThank you, my dear. And you are...?Ó
ÒLieutenant
Forbes.Ó
ÒIÕm
Doctor McCoy.Ó
She
smiled. ÒI know, sir.Ó
ÒCall
me Leonard since weÕre off duty.Ó
Kirk
rolled his eyes at Chris and she smiled.
McCoy whapped him but did not take his eyes off young Forbes.
ÒSkeddaddle, kiddo, unless you want to him to continue. He can work up quite the woo.Ó Chris grinned at the other woman.
ÒIÕm
not averse to some quality woo.Ó
Forbes looked up through thick eyelashes at McCoy, giving as good as she got, in an accent suddenly much stronger.
ÒLord
have mercy, girl. Are you from the
motherland?Ó
She
nodded. ÒSouth Carolina, born and
raised.Ó
ÒGeorgia
original.Ó He grinned at her. ÒAfter your shift, weÕre going to talk
about things we miss. Peach pie.Ó
ÒPralines.Ó
ÒCatfish,Ó
they both said at once.
They
laughed and it was suddenly like a convention of the good old boys—and
girls—of Dixie had descended on the place. Kirk picked up his drink and motioned
for Chris to follow him to the sofas off in the corner. McCoy didnÕt even seem to notice them
leaving.
ÒShould
we tell him to invite her, too?Ó Chris asked as they sat.
ÒHe
can take her somewhere else. IÕm
not interested in a night hearing the two of them yammer on about the War of
Northern Aggression or a discourse on the golden idol that is cornbread.Ó
She
leaned back. ÒGood. Neither am I. Although IÕve had
LenÕs cornbread. ItÕs
fantastic.Ó She seemed to think
about something. ÒYouÕre from
Iowa. IsnÕt corn a big deal there?Ó
ÒYes,
but that doesnÕt mean I like it baked into cakes—donÕt try to tell me
thatÕs bread. ItÕs cake.Ó
ÒFine,
itÕs cake.Ó She leaned in and said
softly, ÒYou are a very strange man at times.Ó
ÒDonÕt
spread it around. Oh, do you think
he struck out?Ó
McCoy
was heading their way, alone.
ÒI
donÕt see how. They seemed very
compatible.Ó
McCoy
collapsed into the couch next to Chris and managed to not spill a drop of his
drink. ÒAs luck would have it, the
lovely Gillian is busy tomorrow night.
I have secured her company the following night though.Ó
Kirk
smiled. ÒThen come with Chris and
me tomorrow. WeÕre going to
DelaneyÕs.Ó
ÒFor
real? That place is harder than
hell to get into.Ó
Kirk
put on his fake modest face and said, ÒWell, I guess if youÕre—Ó
ÒThe
hero of the quadrant. Or were you
going to up it to universe?Ó Chris
grinned at him. ÒHeÕs very modest
about it, though, Len. Would never
rub it in that he can get a table and we canÕt.Ó She took McCoyÕs arm. ÒCome with us. You can regale us with ÔWhat I did on
the retirement I thought was permanent but found out to my dismay was notÕ
stories.Ó
Kirk
nodded. ÒCome, Bones.Ó
ÒOkay. What the hell.Ó McCoyÕs attention was suddenly on the
entrance. ÒHmmm. You okay with that, Christine?Ó
She
glanced over, where Spock and Uhura were standing—quite clearly together,
Kirk thought—and shrugged in a way that was truly casual, not
bitchy. ÒSure. Why wouldnÕt I be?Ó
Kirk
shot McCoy a look. A ÒGive her shit
about her crush and I will kill youÓ look.
Or at least he hoped it translated that way.
McCoy
frowned at him, then let the expression go. ÒJust didnÕt want you to be upset, honÕ. But
youÕre not, so itÕs all good.Ó
Chris
leaned back, her arm against KirkÕs, and took a sip of her drink. ÒYep. ItÕs all good.Ó
##
Kirk
yawned, still tired from the late night he and Chris had enjoyed. TheyÕd had a fabulous dinner with McCoy,
good steaks, rich desserts, booze up the yin yang. And then Bones had bid them goodnight
with a wink for Kirk once Chris wasnÕt looking, and left them alone.
TheyÕd
walked along the promenade, looking in shops, talking, ending
up in a bar down from DelaneyÕs.
There had been music—good, old-fashioned music with people dancing
the right way—and heÕd taken her hand and led her to the dance floor.
There
had been members of his crew there.
He hadnÕt given a damn. He
loved dancing with Chris. Loved the
way she melted into him, let him lead, seemed content to just ÒbeÓ on the dance
floor. That was what Ruth had
taught him after much posturing and fighting on his part: to find the
rhythm. That dancing wasnÕt about
owning the dance floor; it was about surrender: to the music, to the steps of
the dance, and most especially to your partner.
But
you had to have the right partner.
She had to surrender, too.
Chris
knew how. HeÕd asked her where
sheÕd learned to dance, and sheÕd said Roger had enjoyed it. Then sheÕd said sheÕd never felt as in
sync with Roger, or anyone, as she did with Kirk.
He
liked that idea. A lot.
Forcing
his attention back on work, he saw a request for transfer in his queue and
frowned. He read it, then reached over for his comm
terminal, said, ÒKirk to Rand.Ó
ÒRand
here, sir.Ó She sounded nervous.
ÒIÕd
like to talk to you. Can you leave
your post?Ó
ÒYes,
sir.Ó
ÒIn
my office.Ó Which sounded so much
better than in his quarters but barely.
Why didnÕt Starfleet think shipsÕ captains needed their own space,
separate from where the goddamn bed was?
ÒIÕll
be right there.Ó
She
was as good as her word, ringing his door chime only a few minutes later. She looked more nervous than she had
sounded.
ÒDo
you want to explain?Ó
ÒNot
really, sir.Ó She was standing at
attention, staring over his head at the viewscreen.
ÒAt
ease, Janice. Why? YouÕre doing great here. Has something happened?Ó
ÒI
struggled with whether to do this or not, sir. Because when I tell you why I want to
go, youÕll think IÕm the most unprofessional person on your crew. But the problem is, if I stay, I think
IÕll get bitter and be even more unprofessional.Ó She finally met his eyes. ÒI always assumed that if you broke your
rule about getting involved with someone on the ship, youÕd break it for
me. It was obviously a bad
assumption.Ó
He
frowned. ÒI havenÕt broken my rule.Ó
ÒSo,
you havenÕt had sex with her yet.
Okay. Fine. But IÕm kind of an expert at knowing
what your moods look like, your different frames of mind. It was what made me a good
yeoman—anticipating, reading you.
And...youÕve got a
certain look these days. And so
does a friend of mine.Ó
He
could feel his face tightening.
ÒShe
told me when we were back on Earth before we launched that you and she were
having drinks occasionally. I
didnÕt love hearing that, but I appreciated her giving me a heads up and figured:
drinks, no big deal. But this is
not just drinks.
Even if you two donÕt realize it yet.Ó She met his eyes. ÒSheÕs my friend, one of my best
friends. I donÕt want to watch and
get mean and ugly. And I admire
you. YouÕve always been in my
corner. I donÕt want to repay you
by being a bitch.Ó
ÒThen
donÕt.Ó
ÒI
canÕt promise I wonÕt. Let me go,
sir. ItÕs the decent thing for all
of us. Christine doesnÕt have to
know. IÕm going to put my request
in for Officer Candidate School when the call comes around again—IÕll
just tell her thatÕs why. DonÕt
worry. I wonÕt ask you for a
recommendation.Ó
ÒWhy
not?Ó
ÒWell,
I figured after we had this talk that an officer would be the last thing youÕd
see me as.Ó
He
leaned back. ÒIÕm not happy you
canÕt put your feelings aside, but I respect that youÕre telling me and doing
something about it before it gets unpleasant. I will recommend you, Janice.Ó He sighed. At least this was about a thousand times
more pleasant than dealing with Raelyn had been.
ÒThank
you, sir. You wonÕt tell Christine,
will you?Ó
ÒI
canÕt promise that.Ó
ÒWow. YouÕre really in love her, arenÕt you?Ó
ÒThe
fact that I donÕt want to lie to a friend does not automatically translate to
me being in love with her.Ó
ÒThatÕs
not a no.Ó She smiled sadly.
ÒYouÕre
dismissed, Chief.
IÕll include Spock on the approval to your transfer. He may make some shift changes, or have
you train replacements. IÕll leave
it to him.Ó
ÒYes,
sir.Ó
He
remembered the first time she left.
The long hug, the regretful look that lasted a moment longer than it
should have. He felt no urge to do
that this time, stayed planted in his seat. ÒGood luck to you, Janice. IÕll be rooting for you.Ó
ÒThank
you, sir.Ó She met his eyes and he
thought she was hoping for a repeat of last time, but he kept his expression
friendly but bland. She turned on
her heel and left.
He
took a deep breath and went back to his message queue.
##
Kirk
sat at the bar with McCoy at RandÕs going away party, and watched Chris as she
moved around the space. She seemed
to be staying far away from him but the few times heÕd caught her eye, sheÕd
given him a sweet smile, so he didnÕt think anything was wrong.
She
was a smart woman. She could add
one plus one equaled Òget me off this ship.Ó He sighed and finished his drink. ÒBones, IÕm calling it a night.Ó
ÒYou
mean Spock is going to stay at a party longer than you are?Ó
ÒYep. Rand wonÕt mind. SheÕs the center of attention. She doesnÕt need me here.Ó Not, at least, as a man she couldnÕt
have. He smiled at McCoy and walked
over to where Rand was in the middle of a group of friends and admirers.
The
others moved back to give them privacy, and he pulled her in for a quick
hug. ÒGood luck with the OCS
application. Make sure you tell me
when the recs are due.Ó
ÒI
will. Thank you for everything,
sir.Ó There was a rather pregnant
pause, and he thought she might be waiting for him to say she should call him
Jim.
Instead
he pulled away gently and grinned.
ÒSafe travels.Ó
She
nodded and turned back to her friends.
He
met ChrisÕs eyes and she smiled a little sadly, then turned to Rand, and he
went back to his quarters, pulling up reports on his padd that he had little
interest in doing but had to anyway.
This
was what he wanted. His ship back.
Reports were part of having her.
The not-so-fun part of having her, but still a part.
He
started to plow through the first one.
He was on the third when his chime rang. ÒCome.Ó
Chris
came in and sat down on the chair next to him. ÒSheÕs leaving because of us, isnÕt she?Ó
He
studied her. Then he nodded.
ÒI
thought so. She gave me some cock
and bull story about OCS.Ó
ÒI
think she is planning to apply.
That part is probably true.Ó
He pushed the reports aside.
ÒAre you upset?Ó
She
shrugged and shook her head, looking more angry than unsure.
ÒYou
dealt just fine when your friend took up with your former crush.Ó
ÒBut
I had you. I wouldnÕt have been so
sanguine if I hadnÕt.Ó She met his
eyes. ÒI do have you, donÕt I?Ó
ÒYeah,
I think you do. Do you want me?Ó
She
laughed and nodded.
ÒWhew.Ó He took her hands in his, looked down
and sighed. ÒIÕm never going to
fall in love with her, Chris. Her
leaving is probably the best thing for all of us.Ó
ÒI
know.Ó Her tone lacked any doubt,
and she smiled when he looked up in surprise. ÒIÕm just going to miss my friend.Ó
ÒYou
have me.Ó
ÒI
do. And truth be told, I had you on
Earth, too. She wasnÕt in my life much,
you know? She or
Ny. You were.Ó She shook her head. ÒAnd IÕve been trying to figure out if they
were distant or if I got lost in the fun you and I were having and didnÕt
care—am I one of those people who only needs friends when a lover isnÕt
around?Ó
ÒI
canÕt answer that. But I know you
wanted to include Bones in what could have been a romantic night with me, and
that sort of strikes me as someone who doesnÕt get ÔlostÕ in a relationship.Ó
ÒDid
you want it to be a romantic night?Ó
ÒNo. I mean yes. I meanÓ—he started to laugh, and
she was grinning, too. ÒI wanted to
include him and later, I wanted it romantic, and it was nice. Spending time with you. Dancing with you.Ó
ÒIt
was more than nice. I love dancing
with you.Ó
He
nodded, and they sat in silence for a moment, then he said, ÒIÕve never kissed
you.Ó
ÒI
know. Believe me, I know.Ó She squeezed his hands.
ÒThought
of it?Ó
ÒYou
have no idea. You?Ó
ÒOh
yeah.Ó He sighed. ÒI donÕt know whether we should say
screw Janice and kiss now like we both want to or wait.Ó
ÒI
wouldnÕt be here tonight if she wasnÕt leaving. And you wouldnÕt kiss me. YouÕd work on your reports here.Ó
ÒWell,
I might join you in the bar, hoping against hope that youÕd forgotten your tank
top again.Ó He waited for her to
laugh, was not disappointed. ÒAnd
then IÕd buy you expensive drinks as is my requirement.Ó Another grin—God, he loved her
smile. ÒAnd then IÕd walk you home
and maybe, just maybe, IÕd kiss you.Ó
ÒIf
I were really lucky?Ó The goofy
grin was firmly in place and her eyes were sparkling.
ÒDamned
straight. Not everyone gets kissed
by me.Ó Rand never did. Not by all of him, anyway. He
wasnÕt going to count what the evil half of him did—and he thought Rand
would consider that a violent rather than romantic encounter.
ÒIÕm
going to let you get back to those reports.Ó
ÔOkay.Ó He pulled her hands up, kissed one and
then the other. ÒDo you have plans
for tomorrow night?Ó
ÒI
donÕt. Should I hide my tank top?Ó
He
laughed and nodded.
ÒYeah,
in your dreams, sailor.Ó She leaned
in and kissed him on the cheek. ÒI
love you.Ó
ÒI
love you, too.Ó
They
stared at each other for a moment, then he let go of her hands and she got up
and walked to the door.
He
watched her go, smiled when she turned back at the door to look at him, to give
him the sweet smile that was one of his favorites, then left.
He
was letting go of his rule for her and it was amazingly easy. Maybe after his stint in hell on Earth,
with her being the only sign of light, it wasnÕt even a question any
longer. He wanted her. She wanted him. End of story.
He
went back to his reports, stopping occasionally to see if he could still smell
her light perfume in the air.
##
Kirk commed Chris after breakfast,
just before their shift started. ÒI
was serious about drinks.Ó
ÒI
was semi serious about losing the tank top.Ó
ÒMaybe
we should have drinks in my quarters, then?Ó He waited, wondering if he was pushing
it—how the hell could they be pushing it? TheyÕd been dancing around each other
for months.
ÒMaybe
we should,Ó she finally said, and there was no indecision in her voice. The maybe was a formality.
He
smiled. ÒIÕll put an order in with
catering. CaptainÕs
privilege and all that. Any
requests I donÕt already know about?Ó
ÒNope.
You know what I like.Ó
ÒWell
as far as food and drink goes, I do.
But other things...Ó
ÒYouÕre
a smart boy. IÕm sure youÕll figure
that out in no time.Ó Her voice was
as sultry as heÕd ever heard it.
ÒDo
you want to play hooky and come over here now?Ó
ÒI
think theyÕll notice if the captain and deputy CMO fail to report to their
posts.Ó
ÒDamn.Ó He laughed and heard her laughing on the
other end of the comm. ÒIÕll see
you after shift.Ó
ÒOkay. Have a good day.Ó
He
didnÕt see how he could have any other kind at this point. Only—was that asking for
trouble? God knows theyÕd run into
their share of strangeness that just sort of popped up at the most inopportune
time.
ÒFates,
omnipotent beings, and anyone else who might be tempted to screw up my
day. Please donÕt.Ó Did that count as a prayer?
He
was not good at the whole worship thing.
The
day dragged. He diverted himself
during the morning by picking out a bunch of goodies for them to snack on.
Spock
came over at one point and let an eyebrow go up as he took in the screen Kirk
had up on his padd. Then he pointed
to the entry for field greens and baby goat cheese salad. ÒI suggest this one.Ó
Kirk
shot him a sidelong glance—Spock
had gotten there before he had?
Shit, he was off his game.
ÒThanks, IÕll take that under advisement.Ó Did he want stinky, goat-cheese breath
for his first time with Chris?
Hell, most of the foods he was looking at were tasty because they were
savory, and savory meant stinky.
Oh,
well. As long as they both ate
it.
But
not the salad—he was pretty sure Chris detested goat cheese. Showed what Spock knew, big dummy. He wouldnÕt have lasted five minutes
with her.
Finally,
Kirk was off shift and double-timed it to his quarters,
wanting to freshen up, brush his teeth, maybe work out for a bit. No, sheÕd said he looked great, hadnÕt
she? He took off his uniform and
changed into something...that looked stupid. He rifled through his closet, finally
deciding what he had on was fine.
His
chime saved him from having to anguish any further over outfits. He shut his closet and said, ÒCome.Ó
Chris
walked in. She had on black pants
and a heavy fishermanÕs sweater, buttoned to the neck. He knew he was frowning.
She
began to unbutton the sweater from the bottom up. ÒI had this other sweater I thought you
might like better than the green one.
But I couldnÕt really be seen in the corridor wearing it so you get the heavy
sweater as camouflage.Ó
His
frown changed to a smile.
When
she finally unbuttoned the cardigan and shrugged it off, he nodded his
approval. She had on a dark red v-neck sweater in some figure-skimming fabric, cut
scandalously low when worn with nothing underneath it. He couldnÕt help but notice there was no
way she had a bra on. The fact that
the sweater stayed in place and covered her breasts was probably due to
adhesive or willpower alone.
ÒYou
like?Ó
ÒI
like very much.Ó
The
door chimed again and he said, ÒCatering.Ó
She
grabbed the fishermanÕs sweater and buttoned it in a few strategic places. Crisis averted.
ÒCome,Ó
he said, once she had hurried over to him.
A
crewman from the galley staff wheeled in a table packed with dishes.
She
started to laugh once the crewman was gone. ÒHow long are we going to be in here?Ó
ÒI
may have overachieved.Ó
ÒI
like that you did. Spoil me. Good strategy.Ó
ÒYeah,
but how do I top it later? Very
poor planning on my part.Ó He
pulled her to him, began to unbutton the heavy sweater, then
pushed it off her. ÒI want to enjoy
the lovely view.Ó
She
moved her elbows in tight to her body, then pressed them upward and—oh,
holy crap. HeÕd thought heÕd been
enjoying the view before? She was
doing unlawful things to her cleavage.
ÒDamn,
woman.Ó
She
laughed and eased her arms away from her sides, letting her breasts ease back
to what was admittedly also a very nice place. ÒI probably shouldnÕt have done
that. Seeing as how youÕve never
kissed me.Ó
ÒI
can remedy that.Ó
ÒYeah?Ó
He
nodded and pulled her to him. She
went into his arms the same way she did when they were
dancing—surrendering but not losing any of herself
in the process. That was what he
loved about her. She was always present, never let him forget she was a woman with a brain
as big as his own.
And,
wow, could she kiss.
They finally pulled away and he sighed happily. ÒThat was worth waiting for.Ó
ÒIt
was.Ó She stroked his hair. ÒIÕm so glad I got to know you on
Earth.Ó
ÒEven
if I was a jerk half the time.Ó
ÒYou
were a never a jerk to me.Ó She
began to kiss his neck, then worked up, laying small
kisses on his cheek, to his ear.
ÒThe food can wait, right?
ItÕs in stasis.Ó
ÒYes,
yes it is.Ó He took her hand and
drew her to the bed, easing off her pants and underwear and leaving her wearing
only the sweater.
ÒI
always suspected you were a boob man.Ó
He
ran his hand down her thigh. ÒItÕs
not an exclusive choice. I like
your legs very, very much.Ó He
moved his hand around. ÒAnd your
ass.Ó
ÒAh,
so youÕre an all-angle ogler?Ó She
pulled his shirt off.
ÒI
try to ogle discreetly.Ó He pushed
her to the bed, then undid his pants and kicked off his underwear. ÒAlthough right now, I plan to leer.Ó
She
grinned. ÒMe, too.Ó She reached down, sliding her hand past
his chest to his stomach to...
He
moaned.
ÒYou
havenÕt been with anyone since Lori, have you?Ó
ÒIÕve
been with you, Chris. I just didnÕt
want to think about how much more I could have been with you, since you were
leaving.Ó
ÒIÕm
not going anywhere. And here we
are.Ó
ÒHere
we are.Ó He pulled her onto him,
kissing her for a very long time, until he finally felt like heÕd made up for
months of not touching her—of not even letting himself think that was a
possibility.
He
pulled the sweater off her, and she moved so she was straddling him, then eased down onto him.
Holy
shit, she was tight. ÒHow long has
it been for you?Ó
ÒI
was in med school or with you. I
didnÕt have time to sneak in a guy.Ó
As
she moved, he closed his eyes and rode out the feeling of having her on top of
him, riding him with her head thrown back.
He reached for her, sent her off quickly, then
rolled her so she was under him and took her the way heÕd been thinking about
all day.
They kissed frantically, and he pulled her legs up, going harder, deeper,
until—he cried out so loudly she slapped her hand over his mouth and
laughed softly.
He
smiled and collapsed on top of her.
ÒNot soundproof?Ó
ÒOh,
hell no. I hear everything in the
quarters next to me.Ó
ÒWell,
sleep here, then. YouÕll only hear
us. No one on either side of
me.Ó He brushed back her hair and
kissed her gently. ÒI love you.Ó
ÒI
love you, too.Ó She eyed the
cart. ÒCan we nibble while we do
this? I skipped lunch.Ó
ÒBusy?Ó
ÒAnd
nervous.Ó She looked sheepish. ÒSilly, isnÕt it? WeÕve been hanging around each other for
months. Suddenly it was scary.Ó
He
thought back to his small panic attack over what to wear. ÒI know. Me, too.Ó He let her go and she crawled off the
bed—giving him a wonderful view of her backside—and wheeled the
cart in from the other room.
She
turned off the stasis generator, then crawled back
onto the bed, leaning over him and kissing him very soundly before she fed him
a strawberry.
He
smiled as she pulled the cart closer to them, then
poured them both champagne. ÒYou donÕt
like goat cheese, right?Ó
ÒDespise it. Why?Ó
He
lay back and grinned. ÒNo reason.Ó
FIN