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) 2012 by Djinn. This story is Rated R.
Whip Me, Beat Me, Show Me That You Care
by Djinn
1.
The
suns are gentle on Demeter IV and the breezes cool. Chapel wishes she could stay here
forever and forget how many times sheÕs tried to put herself in SpockÕs path
since he came back aboard the Enterprise
after the encounter with VÕger.
She
thought the meld would open him up to her.
ItÕs opened him up to damn near everything else. SheÕs seen him laugh, cry, try foods she
never thought he would. HeÕs eaten
lunch with Ny, had breakfast with the captain more
times than she can count—does that mean he met him for breakfast or he
never left him from the night before?
And
why does she even care anymore?
Why
the hell canÕt she just give up on him?
Jan
gave up on the captain. Got herself
off the ship as soon as it was clear Kirk was back for good, because thatÕs
what you do when youÕre sane. You
get the hell clear of your obsessions.
Chapel
knows this. Does it make her
slightly less crazy to be so self aware?
ÒChristine,
it isnÕt good for you to stay,Ó Jan said.
ÒDecker wanted you here. And
it was because they werenÕt going to
be here that we came back, remember?Ó
Jan was the voice of reason.
Too
bad Chapel wasnÕt listening. ÒItÕll
be okay. IÕm over him, really.Ó
ÒDefine
over for me, my friend. Because this over of which you speak
sounds a lot like Ôcrazy overÕ not Ôout of your system.ÕÓ
JanÕs
annoying when sheÕs right.
Fortunately, she wasnÕt the type to rub it in, just hugged Chapel as she
beamed off at Starbase Seven and told her good luck
with a look of heavy pity in her eyes.
Her
friend pities her.
Chapel
sighs and leans back, loving the way the sand feels when she digs her toes into
it, finding the coolness underneath the hot grains on the surface.
ÒDoctor?Ó A barely civil voice. The stone cold tone only a Vulcan can
reach.
ÒYep.Ó She doesnÕt look up at him.
ÒIs
there a reason you are engaged in no activities?Ó
ÒNope.Ó She hopes heÕll write her up for
insubordination. Send her
packing. That would end her
problems.
He
inhales slowly, as if dealing with her is a trial. ÒDid you not understand the assignment
you were given?Ó
She
hands him her padd. ÒIÕm an
overachiever.Ó Her assignment is
done. She also cataloged forty
other species of flora sheÕs found interesting on her way to the beach.
ÒI
see.Ó He actually seems at a loss
for words.
ÒDid
you have something else for me to do?
Because if not, youÕre blocking my sun.Ó She stares up at him, daring him to act,
to give her what she deserves. Any
reaction at this point would be preferable to what heÕs given her so far, this
studied indifference.
ÒCarry
on, Doctor.Ó He puts her padd in
his pocket and walks away.
It
is a hollow victory.
2.
Sickbay
is more crowded than it should be given they have not been in combat. Chapel is not sure why so many injured fill
the space, but she works next to Len and the other doctors, setting broken
bones and easing pulled muscles and overstressed tendons.
She
sees Spock come in, watches as he looks her way then
immediately heads toward LenÕs station.
She
canÕt help it—itÕs such typical behavior on his part that she rolls her
eyes and shakes her head.
ÒSomething
wrong, Doctor?Ó The young woman she
is working on does not seem to miss much.
She is staring at Spock, a familiar look on her face—familiar
because Chapel has seen it on her own face for the last umpteen years. ÒHeÕs amazing, isnÕt he?Ó
ÒIs
he? You tell me.Ó She is too rough with the woman, sees
her grimace and immediately feels bad.
She took an oath and that should mean something.
ÒIÕve
never had the chance to work with him.
IÕd love to. Maybe someday
heÕll need someone like me on a landing party.Ó
ÒWhere
do you work?Ó
ÒQuartermasterÕs.Ó
Chapel
laughs and itÕs a cruel sound.
ÒYeah, you just keep dreaming, sweetheart.Ó
ÒIt
could happen.Ó The woman wonÕt take
her eyes off Spock. ÒHeÕs
so...exotic.Ó
ÒMmm hmmm.Ó
ÒI
bet heÕs good in bed.Ó
ÒIÕm
your doctor, not your damn bartender—save your theories for when youÕre
off duty and talking to someone else.
Now, what the hell happened that got you all in here?Ó
ÒArtificial
gravity gave out on our deck. The
bad part was when it kicked back in.Ó
ÒYikes.Ó Chapel imagines all these people going
about their day, suddenly floating in zero G, and then not floating, crashing
back down again. Landing
wrong—some might have landed very wrong. She glances over at the screen that has
been blinking all morning as patients are logged in and statuses updated, sees
that no one new has taken up occupancy in the morgue. They got off lucky.
She
finishes wrapping the womanÕs wrist, takes a look at an abrasion on her cheek,
trying to be gentler this time. She
glances up, sees Spock watching her, a look she canÕt read on his face. She stares back for a moment, then
resumes her work, easing away the scratches with a regenerator, giving the
woman a shot of light painkiller and sending her on her way.
Someone
new is on the biobed before sheÕs even reset her
hypo. Must have been one of the
busier decks that lost gravity. Another
thing wrong with the refit—and a scary thing, could happen on any of the
decks. Everyone will be thinking
about it now, wondering if they should start carrying weights in their boots.
ÒShould
have gotten off this damn boat when I had the chance,Ó she mutters as she
refills her hypo and gets back to work.
3.
Chapel
is working in the lab on an experiment that keeps her out of the rec lounge and
not drinking. ItÕs not a
particularly groundbreaking project, but it doesnÕt need to be as long as it
keeps her from doing something stupid like spending an evening complaining
about Spock to Ny like she did the first week after VÕger, or sleeping with unsuitable men, like she did for
the next few weeks.
Ny wonders why Chapel canÕt find a suitable guy to sleep with. ItÕs a good question, and Chapel is
pretty sure sheÕs sabotaging any chance of finding a nice guy so she can hold
on to the idea of Spock.
The
lab door opens and she glances up, sees that it is Spock and can feel her
expression freeze somewhere midway between unwelcoming and angry. All the labs on this damn ship and he
has to walk into hers?
He
sees her and stops, seems to consider his next move. There are other people in the lab, so
she canÕt just yell at him to get out, to find some other lab and leave her in
peace in this one.
SheÕs
actually a little surprised that heÕs even having to
think. ShouldnÕt he just be turning
tail and running?
He
finally moves to the other side of the room, sets up a space very far away from
her with his back to her. There is
something in the set of his back, in the way he is looking down at his work,
that lets her know he is blocking her presence from his mind.
He
may not be indifferent to her, but it is somehow worse. It is as if she is a bad smell that he
tries to block out by will alone.
She
puts her padd down, walks over to his table, knows he
can tell she is coming over. ÒWhy?Ó
she asks.
He
turns to look at her, his eyebrow going up.
ÒSeven
other labs. Two private ones you
could commandeer if you wanted. Why
this one? Why do this?Ó
ÒThis
is the closest to the bridge and my quarters.Ó He turns back to his work, the
conversation apparently over.
ÒYouÕve
barely started. IÕve been here for
several weeks. Find a new lab.Ó
He
does not look up. ÒNo.Ó
She
is so angry that her hands are shaking.
ÒWhy are you doing this to me?Ó
He
glances at her. ÒIn what way is
this about you, Doctor?Ó
She
can feel her face turning red since itÕs a valid question. She goes back to her table, begins to
dismantle the experiment. Fuck
Spock. Fuck him and the goddamn
Vulcan horse he rode in on.
The
experiment isnÕt important. SheÕll
start a new one tomorrow—in a different lab. Tonight: well, thereÕs probably at least one
inappropriate man she hasnÕt gone to bed with yet.
4.
Chapel
stands at the podium, waiting for the room at the conference center on Malana to fill up.
She is chatting with the session moderator and the other presenters when
she sees Spock come in. He takes a
seat in the back, glances at his program then meets her gaze, his own
expression unreadable, then it turns almost hostile.
She
knows where she wonÕt be looking while sheÕs presenting.
ÒYou
ready?Ó the moderator asks, and she nods as he moves to the center of the room,
introducing her.
She
sounds so damn impressive when someone lists her credentials this way. She sneaks a peak at Spock; he doesnÕt
look impressed.
She
doesnÕt look at him again as she gets going. This is research built on a project she
worked on with Roger, that she refined in med
school. She submitted the paper
during the time the Enterprise was in
refits, while Spock was safely at Gol, before she
needed to work on silly things to keep from doing even sillier ones.
She
knows her subject backward and forward.
The Q&A is a snap, and she has fun with it, knows many of the people
grilling her, anticipates drinks with a handful of
them later, a raucous good time of catching up after too long.
She
glances back at Spock. His chair is
empty. It hurts. She hates that it hurts. She hates that it matters to her when he
left—did he even see how well she did?
When
someone looks in the dictionary under Òpathetic,Ó is her picture there?
The
moderator calls time, and Chapel takes a seat near the front, letting the next
presenter get on with it. ItÕs a
brilliant presentation, fortunately, so she can forget Spock and focus on
science, which is why sheÕs here.
Why all of the six of them who came from the Enterprise are here. ItÕs
a prestigious conference and she didnÕt have to put her name in for the lottery
since she was presenting.
She
imagines Spock didnÕt have to either since he was the man in charge of the
lottery. Logic would dictate, she
thinks, that the most intelligent—ergo Spock—should go, not the
most lucky.
Logic
is a bitch. But then sheÕs always
known that.
When
the session wraps up, she wanders out to the hall. She feels an itch between her shoulder blades, turns and sees Spock down the hall, watching
her. Again, his look is unreadable.
She
wants to march over, to ask him what his problem is with her. But she imagines she knows. ItÕs called history. ItÕs called years of making him
uncomfortable. She never really
considered him a ÒpaybackÕs a bitchÓ kind of guy, but maybe he got some of that
from VÕger?
Because heÕs making her damned uncomfortable: she feels like something that
crawled out from underneath a rock.
She
holds her head up, finds a friend in the crowd, and turns her back on Spock.
5.
Chapel
has no idea how she and Spock have come to be in what looks like a large
warehouse. Last she remembers, she was shopping on Belgruva. And definitely not
with Spock.
Two
aliens—all spikes and quills—come out, loaded down with video
equipment, which they begin to set up, some on the ground, some hovering.
ÒTime?Ó
one asks.
ÒFifteen
minutes.Ó
ÒWeÕve
never had a Vulcan before. Should
be interesting.Ó
One
of them points a weapon at her, fires, and a dart goes into her belly. She pulls it out, but she can feel a
burning. ÒPoison?Ó
ÒNot
quite,Ó the alien says, then shoots Spock in a spot higher
and to the left.
She
can feel her heart rate speeding up, can feel anger growing. ÒAdrenaline? Cortisol?Ó
ÒThatÕs
right. Fight or flight, and thereÕs
nowhere to flee so youÕll fight.
Any anger you two have will just make it better. And we film it for a discerning
audience. You probably donÕt stand
a chance once he starts to feel it, too.Ó
ÒWhy
him?Ó
ÒHe
was near you in the market. You
both wear similar uniforms. Seemed
to make sense.Ó The aliens back off
and a portable corral of sorts comes down around them. ÒFight to the death. Unless you somehow last more than twelve
minutes.Ó
She
starts to tremble, not from fear, but from the surge of adrenaline. She looks over at Spock, sees that he is
trying to control his reaction.
Even
in this, he will give her indifference?
Rage
fills her. She knows itÕs induced,
not real. That doesnÕt stop her
from launching herself at him, hitting him as hard as she can,
sharp jabs at places she knows are the most vulnerable.
He
finally kicks her back against the far side of the corral.
He
is breathing hard, his eyes half closed.
He holds his hand up as if she is some rank ensign he is telling not to
bother him.
She
rushes him, yelling at him this time.
ÒCanÕt you even care about this?Ó
She kicks at his groin, but he is ready for her, pulls her around so her
back is tight to his chest, finds her throat and begins to press.
She
can hear his breathing, harsh and ragged in her ear, and he is pressing
harder.
For
a moment, she stops fighting, then she slams her
elbows back, over and over into his ribs, until he lets go of her. She turns and he is back on her, running
her backwards, crashing them both into the corral, knocking the breath out of
her. He finds her throat again, his
fingers on the same point and she looks into his eyes and sees...nothing.
ÒWhy?Ó
she manages to get out, and then one of the aliens says, ÒThatÕs time,Ó and
they begin pulling in the vid units, the corral the last to go as they beam out
just as the world fades to black, SpockÕs expressionless eyes the last thing
she sees.
6.
She wakes slowly, her throat feels crushed. Spock is sitting nearby but not touching
her, rocking slowly, as if trying to get control of himself. His face is the same expressionless mask
he wore when he was trying to kill her.
She
decides not to move, not to bring any attention to herself at all. But then he turns and meets her
eyes. Something flickers in his,
but she has no idea what emotion she just saw. Anger, for all she knows. Anger that she got them into
this—sheÕs sure this will somehow be her fault. Or maybe disgust that he was stuck here
with her. That he had to touch her, had to get so close.
Whatever
the look was, it was nothing good.
She
realizes her back is starting to cramp, shifts a little, trying not to cry
out. Where he sent them crashing
into the corral is bruised—maybe worse—and it hurts to lie on it
this way. She sees him glance down
as if he knows where she is in pain, but his expression still does not change.
He
doesnÕt care that sheÕs in pain?
Does he care that soon around her throat will be a ring of bruises from
his fingers? Does he care that her
elbows will be bruised from trying to free herself from him? Does he really not care about her at
all?
She
canÕt think about this anymore, closes her eyes and drifts, only waking when
she feels a hypospray that sends blessed numbness
through her body.
Opening
her eyes, she sees Len working over her.
He is glaring at Spock, and she tries to say, ÒNot his fault,Ó but her
voice refuses to cooperate. She
grabs the scanner from him, shows him the elevated adrenaline and
cortisol.
ÒYou
were drugged?Ó
She
nods. Points to Spock and nods,
too.
ÒI
guess I owe you an apology, Spock.
You didnÕt mean to nearly crush ChristineÕs windpipe.Ó His voice is so bitter the apology does
not sound like one.
Spock
looks away.
She
tries to swallow, can only get halfway and nearly panics at the sensation of
being stuck mid-swallow.
Len
shoots a hypo full of something else into her arm. ÒThis is to calm you down, all
right?Ó His voice
is so gentle, she nods.
She
takes his tricorder, switches it to slate mode and writes out, ÒStop riding
him. He tried to control it. He wasnÕt hurting me when you arrived,
was he?Ó
Len
shows Spock the tricorder, and she closes her eyes and wishes he hadnÕt. Just one more sappy gesture Spock
doesnÕt need from her.
ÒLetÕs
get you up to the ship.Ó Len calls
for beam out. He takes Chapel away
on a gurney even though she tries to tell him she can walk. He leaves Spock alone on the transporter
after asking him gruffly if he needs medical assistance.
No,
of course he doesnÕt. How the hell
could she have hurt him?
7.
ChapelÕs chime rings and she calls ÒCome.Ó
It
is Spock.
ÒWe
need to discuss what happened.Ó His
voice is not quite even.
She
points to her guest chair, says ÒSit.Ó
She catches a grimace as he settles, walks to her medkit and says, ÒStand up.Ó
ÒWhy?Ó But he does it.
ÒYou
never let Len check you out, did you?Ó
ÒHe
was clearly not in the mood.Ó
ÒMaybe
you were in the mood to do penance.Ó
She scans him, sees that two of his ribs are cracked. Reaching for the regenerator, she pulls
his shirt up, and begins to work.
ÒWe donÕt need to discuss anything.
IÕm going to request a transfer.
IÕm going to do that because it actually makes me happy that IÕve
cracked two of your ribs.Ó
ÒI
thought they might be compromised.Ó
He takes a deep breath. ÒDo
not transfer.Ó
ÒWhy?Ó
ÒBecause
I do not wish you to.Ó
ÒWhy?Ó She works her way around him, scanning
and healing anything she finds that is bruised or strained.
ÒI
am unsure at this point. I only
know I do not want you to leave the ship.Ó
She
moves around to face him, turns off the instruments. ÒThatÕs not much to stay for.Ó
He
touches her throat, seems to be looking for any trace of what he did. ÒIs it healed?Ó
She
nods.
ÒI
am sorry I hurt you.Ó
ÒIt
was the drug.Ó She smiles
sadly. ÒIÕm sorry I hurt you.Ó
ÒWas
that the drug?Ó
ÒHurting
you? Yes. The anger? Not so sure.Ó She sits on the bed. ÒSpock, leaving would be the best
thing.Ó
ÒI
realize that. But do not do it.Ó
ÒGive
me one good reason. Just one.Ó
ÒYou
were right. I could have gone to
any lab. I chose the one you were
in on purpose.Ó
ÒWhy?Ó
ÒI
am uncertain.Ó
ÒWell,
thatÕs a reason. IÕm not sure itÕs
a good one, though.Ó She closes her
eyes, shakes her head. ÒI want to
leave, Spock. I donÕt want to be
this person anymore. This person
who chases you.Ó
ÒI was following you in the market. That
is why the aliens were able to take us together.Ó
ÒWhy?Ó She studies him, looks for any evidence
that he is trying to spin her head, but he appears to be as confused as she is.
ÒAgain,
I am uncertain.Ó He walks over to
her, touches her face gently.
ÒPlease stay. For me?Ó
She
lets out a huff of air, a quiet show of impatience with herself, with him, with
fate for laughing at her. Why the
hell now? ÒFine.Ó
He
nods and heads for the door. When
he gets there, he turns, looks at her with a softer expression than sheÕs ever
seen him give her. ÒAnd your
presentation was excellent.Ó
ÒI
wasnÕt sure you stayed for it.Ó
ÒI
did. I find your work impressive.Ó
ÒThank
you.Ó
He
nods and leaves very quickly—appears to be fleeing, in fact.
SheÕs
an idiot for saying sheÕll stay, and she knows it.
8.
To
the casual observer, nothing has changed.
Spock is not interacting with her any more than he ever did. But she finds herself on many landing
parties, and itÕs because heÕs asked for her. She knows this because Len isnÕt shy
about commenting on SpockÕs sudden preference in doctors to take to pretty
planets.
For
the more dangerous planets, he takes someone else. SheÕs not sure if sheÕs touched or
insulted that heÕs protecting her that way.
SheÕs
headed for the transporter room now, late due to a last-minute emergency in
sickbay. She runs the last few
corridors, sees Spock waiting at the lift door, talking to the captain, who
grins at her.
ÒCutting
it close, Christine.Ó
ÒBusy
day back at the ranch.Ó
Kirk
laughs; she doesnÕt think Spock gets the reference. She scurries past them into the
transporter room, takes her place with the team, waiting for orders.
Spock
comes in. He doesnÕt pay her any
more attention than the other members of the landing party, assigns various
tasks but this time has nothing for her, says only, ÒYou will work with me.Ó
ÒAye
aye, sir.Ó
She follows the others onto the transporter pad, materializes on a world
that reminds her of Tahiti, and smiles.
As
the others start their tasks, she waits for Spock. He comes over, indicates they should
walk, and she realizes he is leading them toward the beach.
ÒReally? WeÕre playing hooky?Ó
ÒYou
seemed to enjoy the beach on Demeter IV.Ó
ÒYou
should have put me on report that day.Ó
ÒTechnically,
you finished your assignment. And
found more to do.Ó
HeÕs
defending her? ÒIt may not have
been what needed doing. I should
have reported back with the padd and asked for a new task.Ó
ÒYes,
you should have.Ó He glances over
at her. ÒWould you rather I assign
you a task than time to walk on what I am told is one of the most pleasant
beaches in this quadrant.Ó
ÒWhen
you put it like that.Ó She takes a
deep breath. ÒAre you going to walk
with me?Ó She does everything in
her power to keep her voice free of innuendo.
ÒI
do not know.Ó
ÒWell,
you seem to be headed toward the beach.
Since itÕs pretty hard to miss, I donÕt think youÕre coming with me to
make sure I donÕt get lost.Ó
He
stops and narrows his eyes. He nods. ÒYou are right. This is most confusing.Ó
ÒWe
can agree on that.Ó
ÒCome
up when you have had your fill of sand.
I will assign you something to do.Ó
He meets her eyes; as usual, she canÕt read the expression in his.
He
turns and heads back to the group.
She knows she should follow him, do some work, be useful.
But
the beach is calling and heÕs given it to her. She doesnÕt imagine heÕs a hearts and
flowers kind of guy, so this may be the closest thing sheÕll ever get from him.
She
decides to enjoy it.
9.
Chapel
is dead on her feet. She wishes
Kirk wasnÕt quite so good at ticking off aliens—although sheÕs thankful
heÕs equally as skilled at getting away from them. But the ship took a beating and so did
many of the crew, herself included, when the ship was
hit.
She
lost her footing, crashed into a cabinet, hitting her head hard. She didnÕt lose consciousness, so she
kept working, but her head is killing her, and she is having trouble focusing
on her patient.
ÒDoctor?Ó It is Spock and sheÕs not sure where he
came from. SheÕs also not sure why
sheÕs seeing two of him.
The
room starts to spin, and she sets the scanner down on the rolling instrument
tray, tries to sit on the stool but misses, is falling but somehow he is there,
catching her awkwardly, his hands hard under her arms as he pulls her up and
hauls her to a biobed in containment since all the
ones out front are in use.
ÒMy
head hurts,Ó she says, her voice coming out as a childÕs whine.
ÒLie
still. I will get Doctor
McCoy.Ó
ÒHeÕs
busy. I can wait.Ó She struggles to get up.
ÒChristine,
do as youÕre told.Ó
She
lies back, primarily because she is so surprised he
has called her by her first name. A
few moments later, he is back with Len.
ÒIÕm
fine, Len.Ó
He
scans her, something she should have thought to do. Why didnÕt she?
ÒAneurism.Ó
ÒNo,
just a minor concussion.Ó She
smiles at Len as if she can charm the diagnosis away.
ÒLie
still, Christine, and shut the hell up.
Spock, go find Nurse Garcia.
Tell her to prep the operating room. Then if you could skedaddle, that would
be good.Ó
ÒShe
will be all right?Ó
She
is fading in and out, but she smiles at the thought that he sounds as if he
cares.
ÒSheÕll
be fine, now go find Garcia for me.Ó
She
waits until Spock is gone, then asks Len, ÒWhat is he doing down here?Ó
ÒHavenÕt
the faintest idea, darlinÕ. Probably came to see you, although heÕll
never admit it.Ó He pats her
shoulder ÒJust lie still for me and
IÕll get this taken care of in a jiffy.Ó
ÒI
didnÕt think I hit that hard. There
was so much to do.Ó She moans. ÒMy head really hurts.Ó
ÒPainkiller
after I get your head fixed. Just
suck it up for now—you know IÕm right.Ó
The
hell of it is: she does. She closes
her eyes, tries to calm herself.
When that doesnÕt work, she tries to come up with a good reason for
Spock to be in sickbay other than to see her.
She
canÕt think of one.
10.
Chapel
is in line for dinner with Len.
Spock joins them and asks, ÒYou are feeling better?Ó in a stiff way.
She
replies, ÒYes. Thanks,Ó just as
stiffly.
He
nods again, apparently canÕt think of a follow-up to that question, and they
look at each other for a moment, then turn to study the food.
She
thinks Len is biting back a grin.
When
they sit down—sans Spock who has taken his food to the lab—Len
laughs. ÒI never thought IÕd say
this, but you two need to get a room.Ó
ÒWere
you in the same line I was?Ó
Once
back in her quarters, she dims the lights, turns on some soothing music, and
puts on her most comfortable nightshirt.
Lounging in the armchair, she is annoyed when her chime rings.
It
is Spock.
He
is clearly uncomfortable. She
decides not to make it easier for him and just waits, then
finally she moves aside. He says
nothing but walks past her, into her room.
She
decides she wonÕt be the first one to break the silence,
so once the door closes, she moves to stand across from him in the narrow
hall. There is very little room
between them, and she thinks he is realizing that she has no bra on under her
nightshirt.
He
reaches out, touches her throat, then her head, then
trails his fingers down her cheekbone to her lips. His expression is soft now. Soft and full of something she believes
is desire.
He
moves closer, until there is no space between them, and she exhales raggedly,
the sound filling the silence between them. She lifts her lips ever so slightly to
his, and he does not hesitate, is kissing her, gathering her up in his arms,
running his hands up and down her body, the nightshirt nothing more than a
formality at this point.
She
goes to work on his uniform, pulling it off him in a way that is not gentle,
and when she is done he slips off her nightshirt, then her underwear, and
pushes her to the bed.
She
pulls him down onto her, into her, and wraps her legs around him. The silence is broken by their moans, by
the sounds of bodies coming together, her cries as she comes, then his. They lie, still joined, breathing hard,
no words spoken, and he kisses her gently.
She
can tell he is still half ready for her, moves and clenches and soon has him
fully ready for her. Without words,
he rolls to his back, steadies her on top of him as she rides him, her head
thrown back, her eyes closed. He plays with her with his other hand,
making her come again, crying out loudly.
As he comes, he pulls her back down to him, kissing her as he cries out,
biting her in the process.
She
doesnÕt care. Spock wants her. And this strange, silent fucking is the
best sheÕs ever had.
11.
Chapel
wakes up in SpockÕs arms, sore and tired from the night before. She smiles at him, says softly, ÒI hope
you donÕt expect silence this morning, too?Ó
His
eyes are gentle. ÒI did not expect
it last night.Ó
ÒDid
you expect sex last night?Ó
ÒI
hoped for it. I am not sure what I
expected.Ó He pulls her closer.
ÒWas
last night you satisfying your curiosity?
A post VÕger blip?Ó
ÒAre
you asking if I wish it to never happen again?Ó
ÒYep.Ó She makes herself look at him, makes
herself face this.
ÒI
enjoyed last night greatly. I would
like it to happen again. Although
we can converse if we wish.Ó He
almost smiles. ÒWhy did we not
talk?Ó
ÒNo
one wanted to blink first?Ó
ÒAh.Ó He leans in, kisses her deeply. ÒThere, I have blinked first.Ó
She
reaches down, finds that he is more than ready for her, and shifts so she is
straddling him. ÒIs this okay? If I blink this way?Ó
ÒMost
assuredly.Ó
As
she slides onto him, he closes his eyes and sighs. She laughs and moves a bit harder; his
mouth opens, and his breathing speeds up, and then he is gone, thrusting up and
calling out and trying to help her along as he goes until she pushes his hand
away and says, ÒEnjoy your ride.Ó
He
holds her on top of him, rubbing her back, kissing her cheek, still inside her,
and she says, ÒIf weÕre going to keep doing this, I need to say something. You canÕt take me off the dangerous
landing parties.Ó
He
frowns and stops rubbing her back.
ÒI am not—Ó
ÒYes,
you are. And in case itÕs escaped
your notice, the only times IÕve gotten hurt so far are on this ship and by you
during shore leave. So dangerous
landing parties should be a breeze.Ó
He
sighs. ÒI feel protective of you.Ó
ÒWhich
is sweet and...unexpected. But let me do my job, all right?Ó
He
studies her, then nods.
ÒWhy
did you come to me last night?Ó
ÒI
have wanted to since VÕger. I thought that it was nothing more than
lust. That I would end up hurting
you. So I tried to ignore you.Ó
ÒYou
did a good job.Ó
ÒI
did not. I sought you out at the
beach on Demeter IV. I came to your
session at the conference even though I should have been in a session across
the hall—that is why I had to leave as soon as you were done. I saw you in the market on Belgruva and followed you. And since then—I cannot stay away
from you.Ó
He
pushes her so she is sitting up straight, begins to play with her breasts. ÒIndulge me?Ó
ÒHow?Ó
ÒShow
me how you touch yourself. I want
to know.Ó He continues to play with
her breasts, but his focus is much lower.
She
blushes but complies. She is not
sure which of them gets the most pleasure from the activity.
12.
Starbase Sixteen is on a planet with an abundance of
shoreline. Chapel is sitting on the
beach where Spock told her to wait when Kirk comes out.
ÒHello
there,Ó she says. ÒAre you lost?Ó
ÒYour
paramour said I could borrow you.Ó
She
laughs. ÒIn what way?Ó
He
actually blushes. ÒTo walk on the
beach with. He tells me youÕre a
sand between your toes kind of gal.Ó
ÒYou
are correct. And heÕs not that kind
of guy.Ó She takes the hand he
offers, lets him pull her up. ÒA
walk it is, Jim.Ó
ÒNext
best thing to having a girl of my own,Ó he says, patting her hand before
letting it go. ÒSeeing my best
friend happy.Ó
ÒAww, you say the sweetest things.Ó
She
glances back, sees Len, Ny,
and Spock beginning the party preparations. Jim is having a birthday party whether
he wants one or not. ItÕs the only
reason Spock has loaned her out—sheÕs discovered heÕs
not only protective, heÕs possessive.
She
keeps their captain busy the requisite amount of time and then sees his face as
they walk back, as he realizes heÕs been royally had.
ÒEt
tu, Brute?Ó
ÒBlame
your happy best friend, Tiberius, not me.Ó
She grins at him and then runs before he can throw her in the drink.
Spock
is there to rescue her, even willing to get sand in his shoes as he stands
between her and a red-faced, but she thinks secretly pleased, captain as
everyone else yells ÒSurprise!Ó
ÒYou
owe me,Ó she murmurs to Spock as Jim joins the party.
ÒI
will repay you in any fashion you desire.
I can think of some that I would prefer, however.Ó SpockÕs eyes are light—happy,
even. He tends to look that way
when he speaks of sex. It surprises
her how much he likes it—or maybe it surprises her how much he likes it
with her. She probably needs to
work on her self-esteem.
Len
lifts a glass to them, then to Ny and smiles
widely. Getting one over on the
captain on his birthday is apparently a major milestone. Let alone doing it up right like this.
She
feels SpockÕs hand on her back, pressing and releasing, she looks over at him,
touches her throat for a moment and sees his eyes soften. It is something she does because it
signifies them in a strange way.
She thinks Spock might have circled her forever if those aliens hadnÕt taken
them and made them fight.
What
the aliens made them do to each other was horrible and harsh and ugly—and
sheÕs lucky Spock was able to pull back.
Yet it brought them together.
Despite everything, theyÕre happy.
ItÕs not the love story she dreamed of, but she can live with that.
FIN