Chapter Character List:
Leonard McCoy in the role of Miss Elizabeth Bennet
S'chn T'gai Spock in the role of Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy
Janice Rand in the role of Miss Jane Bennet
James Tiberius Kirk in the role of Mr. Charles Bingley
Christine Chapel replacing Miss Lydia Bennet
~•~
It was a fact generally accepted amongst those seeking to pursue careers as members of Starfleet medical personnel that the life of a Xenobiology major at the Academy was remarkably, and most disappointingly, painfully dull.
Sure, one could occasionally expect to be thrown into a tizzy by some foolhardy red shirt bleeding plentifully- or, perhaps on a more eventful day, oozing questionable green slime out of one of the body's many unpleasant orifices (which was admittedly all of them once they began exuding said slime)— all over the Med Bay's nice clean floors, but even that became almost rehearsed after the fifth or so time one was rushed to deal with the matter.
Even more disheartening than this short-lived excitement was the simple reality that, on more regular days, many an aspiring doctor, nurse, counsellor, psychologist, or psychiatrist often found themselves imprisoned in either their personal quarters or the library, studying PADD upon PADD of increasingly alien and steadily complicated biology, culture, and planetary conditioning just to keep up with their heavy workload and ever-changing field of study; so one could hardly blame them for the riotous hullabaloo that came at the announcement of the early return of one U.S.S. Valiant and, more significantly, the welcoming party that was to be held in honour of the skilled Cadets, Academy personnel, and, very unexpectedly, foreign dignitaries that had boarded the vessel on its return trip home.
"Oh, Dr. McCoy! Have you heard the news?" chimed the pretty lilting voice of Nurse Christine Chapel as she waved her dear friend and work partner over to join her at her chosen lunch table for the day. Alongside her were her other companions, none of whom were strangers to Dr. McCoy, but most of which could simply be categorised as mere acquaintances to him rather than friends. Regardless, he slid in beside her and Dr. Janice Rand, sparing the latter a fond grin, before turning his attention to his nurse and stating that, yes, like every other person who had access to a computer, he had, in fact, "heard the news."
The doctor's usual dryness seemed to have no affect on Nurse Chapel's exuberance, however, as she touched her fingertips together in something just short of a child-like clap and besot her other, more willing associates in discussing the coming night's preparations.
"There'll be good food, and music, and dancing, and, of course, the others!" she threw a highly pleased look at the equally enthralled psychiatrist seated opposite her, nodding vigorously as Dr. McCoy continued chewing lazily on his food, contenting himself with basking in their good cheer and laughter. It was much more welcomed an experience than facing the nurse's displeasure or wrath, which, he could confirm from witnessing in person, was nothing short of terrifying.
And, in general, it was nice seeing Christine happy again, especially considering the similarities in aspects of their pasts, and resulting countenances, that had lead to them being so close in the first place.
"Your friend—Jim, I think?—is returning, too, right, Leonard?" asked Dr. Rand suddenly, pushing her light curls away from her food for the third time since he'd seated himself down. "You must be looking forward to seeing him again."
"Yeah, him and his hundred and one allergies that he's probably added to by now," replied Dr. McCoy with a scoff as Janice laughed. "If I'm lucky, he may even have contracted another alien STD that's turned his hair orange or something."
Dr. Rand shook her head, but did not attempt to rise to Cadet Kirk's defense, knowing, in passing, of his infamous sexual exploits and… unconventional methods at diplomacy. She also knew that, for the other doctor to speak so frankly about him, they must be rather close.
"He does get the job done, though. They're even saying that he has something to do with why the higher ups are with them."
"Oh, I'll bet he does," griped the doctor as he stabbed passionately at a bit of sliced meat on his plate. "Probably lost an arm in the process."
Despite Leonard's personal grievances and skepticism, however, even he could not truly admit to himself of being against the event or of seeing his friend again so soon, and the normally headache inducing day of long winded classes and needlessly roundabout text was sped up considerably by the staff and students' quiet excitement for the night's gala which buzzed through the day's stale air like electricity. By the time their final classes had rolled around, everyone was impatient to be released and allowed to prepare for what was, for once, going to be an enjoyable night away from study.
Dr. McCoy occupied the slow, stuffy walk to grand Starfleet ballroom by fiddling with his blouse's tight collar and grumbling, under his breath, on the absurdity on being made to wear his dress uniform when any other suit would have met the formality requirement just as well and twice as comfortably. Beside him, his two companions, Dr. Rand and Nurse Chapel, silently agreed but found slight solace in the fact that Starfleet had no say over how they wore their hair nor makeup and were both quietly proud at how nicely both had turned out for each of them. Dr. McCoy's glowing compliments at the beginning of their walk, when he had been in much better spirits, only fortified their confidence and they were not likely to be so quickly dampened by the ill fashion of their dresses.
When they finally arrived at the splendidly decorated hall, Christine detached herself from the party, wandering off to find a companion for the night, and graciously allowing Janice to keep the doctor and his connections within the esteemed Red Squad for herself, for, though Leonard was exceedingly accommodating and far sweeter a companion than most, he did not date and neither lady could see herself with him in any form other than friendship even if he did. Janice looped her arm through his and smiled cheerily up at him, her radiance made all the more appealing under the soft glow of the elegant chandeliers above.
"Shall we go looking for your friend, Leonard?" She asked, glancing around the room briefly before returning her attention to him.
"Eager to get away from me, huh?" Her escort chuckled lowly in response, waving away Janice's hurried protests to the contrary and weaving through the crowd of identically attired people.
After several minutes of wandering the floor, and tiptoeing to monitor the couples dancing at the center of the room, with no sign of James Kirk to be seen, Leonard was ready to concede defeat. He turned to Janice and was just about to propose his thought that, perhaps, the Red Squad had yet to make their appearance yet, when a warm hand gripped his shoulder and he turned to find himself face-to-face, at last, with the bright blue eyes of his broadly grinning friend.
Unsurprisingly, the Cadet was not alone, though, very surprisingly, his partner was not a beguiling woman, alien or otherwise, as Leonard had suspected would have accompanied him that evening, but one of the Academy's professors. The man who was, in all ways except passing knowledge, a stranger to McCoy, watched with an air of detached curiosity as Kirk embraced the doctor, as overly familiar as he had always been, and continued watching as McCoy, in a grand show of reluctance, returned the boy's affection with a gruff pat. When he and Jim had separated and made their usual exchange of less than cordial cordialities, Leonard threw a quick questioning glance towards the hovering professor, arching his brow skeptically at his friend and, thus, inviting introduction.
"Oh! Bones, this is Spock. Spock, Bones- uh, Dr. McCoy."
The doctor almost made to extend his hand, before recalling that Vulcans, the alien race to which Mr. Spock belonged to, attempted to have as little physical contact with other beings as possible, due to their telepathic abilities that were exercised through touch. Instead, he satisfied himself by nodding curtly at the other man, saying something to the equal effect of, "Hey, how you doin'?" before belatedly tacking on a "Sir," at the end. He turned his gaze swiftly back to Jim for further explanation on when and how he and the professor had come to be in so familiar an acquaintance, only to realise that Jim was occupied with the task of expanding his connections by making himself comfortable with Dr. Janice Rand, who seemed amused by his attention.
"Oh, you're a psychiatrist? That's really, um. That's really cool."
Leonard found his gaze resting on the pair for far longer than what would usually be considered polite, his lips parting incredulously as he listened on to their hesitant conversation and to Jim Kirk's oddly stumbling sentences, the object of his earlier perplexity all but forgotten at his peripherals.
"There were quite a few interesting, ah…"
"Inhabitants?"
"Yeah, um, inhabitants. On-On-On Alpha, Alpha… Spock, what was the name of the planet we were on again?"
He turned his gaze briefly towards the Vulcan, whose arched brow looked about ready to disappear into his silken black fringe at the enquiry, before his eyes were drawn back to Janice, as though he found it quite impossible to look away. It was the most peculiar behavior the young man had ever exhibited, and Leonard was beginning to quite seriously consider drawing his tricorder and ordering him report for a medical examination at once.
"Alpha Carinae II, Jim."
Involuntarily, Leonard's sheer confusion was returned sharply towards Mr. Spock and his familiar address of the Cadet, but it was quickly dismissed for later investigation in favour of the fumbling couple whose uncertain, yet seemingly inevitable, romance was unfolding before his very eyes.
"Yes, that. There were quite a few interesting inhabitants on Alpha Carinae II. I'd love to tell you about them—if you want—while we, uh, dance…?"
The disposition of the young lady, which had, until then, remained staunchly at either end of endearment and bemusement, promptly fell in surprise, and her eyes searched his earnest blue ones for any hint of deception or teasing. She spared her previous companion an uncertain glance and, upon receiving his silent acquiescence in the form of a meaningful lift of both his brows, at length, agreed. The two departed immediately towards the center of the hall, falling easily into place alongside all the other finely matched couple, and, though still rather hesitant about the nature of their newly found companionship, soon found mirth in their conversation, Jim Kirk's usual self-assurance and charisma evidently returning to him.
"Well, would ya look at that." said Leonard in disbelief, more so to himself than Mr. Spock, who gave his opinion of the matter, regardless, inclining his body towards the other with a slight tilt of his head.
"I hardly see the cause for your astonishment, Doctor. From my knowledge of Cadet Kirk's character, such behavior is far from uncommon for him."
"You've seen 'im reduced to a bumbling fifteen-year-old at his first barn dance before, Mr. Spock?"
A troubled expression, or the closest variant of the such that a Vulcan could afford, crossed the other's features, and he carefully assured the doctor that he had not ever seen Cadet Kirk regress in age, irrespective of his social conduct or location, and remarked that he did not believe such a feat to be possible of human biology. This response, while not graced by rejoinder, did earn him an inscrutable stare from Dr. McCoy who, once satisfied by whatever his eyes told him, promptly made a short hum, glanced to the side, and began walking briskly through the crowd. Having not been given direct leave to depart, Mr. Spock followed along some paces behind him, logically deciding that, as he was unsure whether he should close the gap or allow the doctor to depart, as his long strides would suggest he so desired, he would settle on a compromise between the two which would allow him to mingle seamlessly with the masses if the latter were true and keep the doctor within his sights if not.
"So," said Dr. McCoy, neither turning around nor slowing, "When did you and Jim become so… Chummy?"
Mildly surprised at his first assumptions being proven the contrary, the professor fell into swift step beside him.
"I am inclined to believe that there were several instances on board the Valiant that contributed to my closer relations with Cadet Kirk," replied he carefully, "and our interactions in between such events, while not being of particular note, did, in many ways, strengthen our camaraderie. As such, I do not think it possible to give an accurate estimate of when we so achieved the 'chumminess' of which you refer to at present."
"Hm, so during your trip, basically."
Mr. Spock stilled momentarily at the doctor's careless, but not necessarily incorrect, oversimplification, studying his gait and apathetic countenance as though struck by the other's easy way of mind. "… Yes," he agreed finally, speeding up again, as his own thoughts attempted to arrange his perspective on Cadet Kirk's closest friend.
The doctor said nothing else until he had arrived at his destination by the drink bar, only resuming speech after he had settled his order with the bartender and affirmed that his unlikely escort did not personally wish for any refreshments.
"So, correct me if I'm wrong, but you teach Xenolinguistics, don't you, Mr. Spock?"
"You are correct, I instruct the advanced phenology class alongside interspecies ethics."
"Yeah, that'd 'splain why I'd never seen you before. Both those things aren't exactly my speciality, as you've no doubt noticed."
The Vulcan simply quirked an eyebrow in return, which, for a reason that eluded him, made Leonard snort, though not in the derisive manner that Mr. Spock was customary to receiving from humans. As the man sipped the golden liquid sloshing in the glass he held, the Vulcan privately agreed with the sentiment that he found neither the doctor's poor enunciation nor his cantankerous nature appropriate for either of the subjects he taught, but, as he doubted voicing such thoughts would be very lead to a warm reception, he instead stood awkwardly by and watched the whirling couples on the floor, all much more comfortable with their current positions than he.
"Your speciality is in anatomical and forensic pathology, is it not? I believe you are the top of your class in the subject." Mr. Spock asked at last, uncharacteristically finding the usually appreciated quiescence too much to bear beside the doctor, who seemed to have a number of unvoiced opinions about him that he ached to uncover. He attributed this rather curious and unprecedented interest of his in the older man's cogitations to the fact that Dr. McCoy was a personal friend of Jim's, and he would probably be spending a considerable amount of time around him if he was to continue his association with the young Cadet, which Spock planned to do. It was, therefore, only logical to ascertain what sort of person the doctor was early into their correspondence. He also admitted that he found the doctor's guarded and unpredictable nature, so different to the simpering and forcefully congenial characters of other humans he had been acquainted with over his years on Earth, fascinating.
McCoy paused in his sipping for a second, his brows furrowing close together as he swallowed. He eyed the other man from the corners of his gaze before turning to him properly. "That's right. How d'you know that?"
"Dr. M'Benga is a fairly close associate of mine due to his knowledge of Vulcan physiology. He has often spoke highly of you and your capabilities, going so far as to admit that he is of the opinion that you will make one of the greatest surgeons Starfleet will ever produce."
A pause followed before the doctor roughly cleared his throat and turned away, muttering under his breath that Dr. M'Benga always did have a way of exaggerating his praise (something which Mr. Spock knew was not at all habitual of the good doctor) and took a long swallow of his drink, draining the glass in a single fluid motion. Mr. Spock almost assumed that his account had somehow offended the doctor, and was about to make his due apology, when he noticed that the other's cheeks were a dusty and, admittedly quite pleasing, shade of pink. "Most fascinating," thought Mr. Spock to himself as was gripped by the desire to enrich the hue, or, at least, to have the doctor's dark eyes resting on his form again so that he might better gage the affect his words had on him. He had witnessed the phenomenon before on other humans and on young Vulcan children, but had never quite found the reaction quite so intriguing, which, even more curious than his illogical urges, did not disturb him as much as he knew should. Before he could find the words necessary to achieve any further result, or uncover the reasons behind his own unusual behavior, however, Dr. McCoy spoke up again, his mouth stretching into a grin which made his eyes shine and Spock's breath catch.
"Christine, over here!"
Mr. Spock glanced up to where McCoy's attention had been diverted to find an attractive blonde lady pushing her way over to them, her locks falling neatly around her neck in soft waves while she wore a smile that made her appear younger than the lines on her face would suggest she was. When her eyes fell on him, her fair skin coloured up, similarly to how Dr. McCoy had merely a few seconds ago. Strangely, Mr. Spock did not find this as appealing or as compelling an observation as he had earlier. He made note to inspect his biased reaction in greater detail later on.
"Hello, Dr. McCoy," said the lady, slightly breathless upon her arrival, then, turning to the Vulcan and dropping her tone as well as her gaze in a show of what could only be shyness, "Mr. Spock."
"I do not believe we have been introduced, Miss…?"
"Oh! Chapel! Christine Chapel. I'm a nurse."
"The best God damned nurse the universe has ever seen, more like," declared the doctor as he wrapped an arm around her and smiled. "I'm sure you'll find her very agreeable company, Mr. Spock." He dipped his head to whisper something into Nurse Chapel's ear, which made her titter and blush deeper, before leaving without a second glance at the Vulcan. Mr. Spock found his eyes curiously following Dr. McCoy's form into the crowd until Nurse Chapel's high tones reminded him of her presence.
"So, Mr. Spock. Do you dance?"
Jim found the professor and nurse in that same position some moments later, though whatever semblance of a conversation that might have been conducted between the two appeared to have crawled into a hole and died long before the sprightly man's arrival. Christine threw him a grateful look when he had sidled up to them and made her hasty escape, only sparing the Vulcan a brief nod, which she did not wait to see returned, before practically running into the throng. Spock, on his part, was looking very severe.
"Well," said Jim, resting his arm on the bar's countertop and giving his friend a pointed look, "she was pretty."
"Her countenance was of acceptable aesthetic qualities, yes."
Jim resisted the deep urge he had to roll his eyes, but did not bother suppressing his sigh of discontentment. "C'mon, Spock. What happened?"
Spock turned his gaze to him directly, arching his brow in a pointed gesture. "Nothing happened, Cadet Kirk. In fact, I do believe that was the crux of the matter."
"Yeah, yeah. All right. Didn't you try talking to her or anything?"
"Nurse Chapel did make several attempts at dialogue, but, as I felt her topics to be of an inconsequential and dull nature, I kept my responses succinct. It is a shame that her wit did not match her beauty or I believe I would have found her a more than adequate companion." He turned to Jim, whose expression spoke of wry displeasure as he chewed on the inside of his cheek, not quite looking at Spock any longer. "However, I find such unfortunateness to be quite commonplace of Terran medicine and their practitioners."
For a beat, Jim did not say a word, simply shaking his head and humming in thought. Then, in a voice terse with something akin to annoyance, asked "And did you scare Bones off with that special charm of yours, too?"
"No, but he certainly has now."
The two men looked up, startled, at the doctor's harsh voice which was tight and clipped by barely controlled anger. His features, which had remained fairly relaxed all evening, were marred by deep cutting lines that ran across his forehead, as prominent as the cracks in an injured porcelain antique. His eyes were ablaze with fury.
Jim hardly dared to say a word, reaching towards his friend with a silent plea, only to be waved aside. The doctor said nothing for a very long time, keeping his eyes locked firmly Mr. Spock, who met it with a cool indifference he did not truly feel. Then, at last, he took a step towards the Vulcan, arms crossed tight over his chest, but expression verging more on incorrigible neutrality rather than seething rage.
"Y'know, Mr. Spock," he said, voice unusually levelled, "when I said that Christine would make a great date, I meant in all senses." He paced leisurely in front of the two, Jim watching him with a slight fear. "In fact, if you actually bothered using those pointy ears of yours to listen to her, I bet you'd realise that her intellect is far more than on par with yours."
"Bones—"
But the young man's attempt at appeasing his friend went quite unnoticed, and Dr. McCoy surged spiritedly on.
"I still remember the words she used to describe her ex-fiancee to me, it was quite a rousing speech. I believe she called him the most disagreeable, arrogant, impudent, insufferable, impertinent of- oh, what was it again, Jim?"
"Bones, please."
"No, wait. I remember," he bared his teeth to Spock in an unsettling grin, "Of fuckers. Well, I think I've finally found someone who rivals him for that spot, don't you, Mr. Spock?" And with that, the doctor promptly turned heel and marched resolutely away, muttering indistinguishably under his breath as Jim stared after him, looking quite pale, and Mr. Spock raised an impassive eyebrow.
"… I do believe that I may have insulted Dr. McCoy."
Jim turned slowly to face the Vulcan, lips pursed into a thin line. "Believe it or not, Spock, I'm inclined to agree." He stood up with a slight bounce, stretching his arms forward. "Right, then. I'm gonna go handle damage control. You just—" he waved his hand in a vague motion about Mr. Spock's uptight figure—"sit here and think about what you've done." Mr. Spock arched his brow, but said nothing as he turned back towards the group of alien dignitaries in the distance, watching them with keen interest.
"Bones! Bones, wait!"
Leonard picked up his pace, moving quickly through the waves of people who squawked and glared after him in deep indignation and injury without care. He had no desire to speak with Jim at the present time, blaming the boyish Cadet in part for his soured temper for having introduced him to the professor in the first place, but he could not outrun Kirk even if he'd had a ten minute head start and soon found the blond right by his side.
"Bones, listen. That wasn't what it sounded like."
"Oh, really? So that damned pointy eared bastard didn't just insult my nurse's intelligence and the competence of the entire medical service while you listened without a peep of denial?"
Jim held his hands up, palms facing forward placatingly, in surrender. "Firstly, I don't think that's very fair. I was going to tell him off, but then you came by and did it anyway. And, secondly, okay, maybe it was what it sounded like, but, Bones," he quickened his steps so that he came to stand directly in his friend's path, catching him by the shoulders and forcing Leonard to look into his fiery, sincere blue eyes. "Bones, Spock saved my life. Several times. I'm not saying that makes what he said okay, but, please. Just give him another shot."
Leonard considered, for a moment, pointing out just how prone Jim was to finding himself in difficult situations that often proved fatalistic to his health, and that to expect the doctor to find friendship with every single person who had directly or indirectly saved him from, essentially, himself was quite impossible; but Jim Kirk did always have a way of softening his snippy demeanor.
Rolling his eyes and giving the boy a long suffering sigh, Leonard said, "All right, fine. But don't expect me to do it tonight." Jim's strained expression grew bright with pleasure, and he stated that he would not expect that of the most affable of persons, least of all the doctor.
"You gonna stay a lot longer?" He asked, obviously seeking to turn Bones's attentions away from the Vulcan and his err.
"Nah. I've had enough of all these stuffy upper crusters for one night." Tired of maintaining the pretense of comfort, and seeing no reason to prolong his displeasure under the guise of forced politeness, he undid the magnetic clasp of his blouse collar and pushed his hands into the pockets of his trousers, which, as a testament to how poorly designed the suit was, made him look all the better. "What about you? Gonna go chat up some other poor girl?"
Jim's step just barely faltered at the question and he prevaricated from answering by smoothening his already straight hair and wiping his perfectly dry palms on his trousers twice. "Yeah, no," he finally said, looking slightly sheepish as the highs of his cheeks became tinged a faint red, "Jan and I figured we'd go to some place quieter. And less formal."
Leonard stopped in his tracks and turned a sharp, severe gaze onto his friend, who was only mildly taken aback by the reception and had the grace to, at least, seem slightly abashed. "Jim," began the doctor in a tone that more than implied his young companion was about to be given a rather long and much deserved lecture on the gentle and rapturous nature of one Dr. Janice Rand who would not understand his propensity for spending a single intimate night with a lady and never speaking a word to her after—a lecture that Jim was most certainly going to ignore in favour of pondering how best to achieve this distasteful result, and swiftly cut in before Leonard could build upon the necessary heat to best admonish him.
"Bones, I don't plan to sleep with her."
"Yeah, sure. And I'm an expert in Orion ballet."
Jim rolled his eyes but made no further efforts to justify the purity of his intentions towards Dr. Rand. He knew when an argument was lost and simply nodded obediently when Bones warned him against leading the poor lady on, before taking his leave of him to, presumably, do just what he had agreed against.
Dr. McCoy shook his head as he watched Kirk walk briskly away, hoping, for her sake, that Janice had the sense not to fall for his good charms alone. A small part of his mind recalled back to Jim's odd behavior at first having met the lady, but he hardly dared hope that he might, at last, be opening up to the idea of commitment, leaving Janice's even-mindedness was his only source of comfort in the matter. He was but four feet away from the ballroom's exit when he was once again accompanied by Nurse Chapel, who was flushed but beaming.
"Leaving so soon, Doctor?" She asked, and Leonard was glad to see that her mood had not been soured by the disagreeable time she had spent with the professor. While she had only been beside him for a little over ten minutes, one's humour could, as Dr. McCoy had just learnt, become envenomed in much sooner a time by the plain Vulcan incivility that rolled so easily off Mr. Spock's tongue. He affirmed Christine's presumption and she, with gleeful cheek, as though sensing her partner's ire towards the professor, furthered their conversation by asking after Mr. Spock.
"Not going to spend more time getting to know the good professor, I'm supposing?"
Leonard's scowl deepened impressively, and he mutinously declared his desire to become better acquainted with the Vulcan under the blade of a medieval 21st century scalpel, which made Christine laugh quite merrily, as she evidently shared his opinion regarding Mr. Spock.
"Shame," she said, blue eyes twinkling mischievously, "he's so very handsome."
"You need your eyes checked, Nurse?"
"He is! Unfortunately, he's also a prick."
That reminded the doctor of the colourful description of the kind of man he had, in retrospect, more blatantly accused— rather than implied, as he had originally meant to— the Vulcan of being, and he snorted in laughter before relaying his version of the final moments of the dinner to her, carefully omitting Spock's hurtful, personal judgement of her. When he finished, Nurse Chapel's eyes were quite wide and her head was shaking almost of its own volition.
"I can't believe he would say that." She turned to him, her eyes now wide with something akin to fear and wonder, "I can't believe you said that."
"You would've."
"Yes, but not to his face. You could get into a lot of trouble for that, Leonard."
"I'm not too worried. The man's so cold-blooded, he wouldn't know offense if it came and smacked him on the upside of his head."
In spite of herself, a small smile snuck onto her features as she asked, "Like you wanted to do?"
He grinned back down. "Exactly."
They continued on their defamation of Mr. Spock's character until they were halfway down the halls of the Academy's dormitories, Nurse Chapel significantly less malicious than the doctor and his barbed insults, afore the conversation turned to a more disquieting and pressing, matter: Jim and his newly found affiliation with their Janice.
"You don't suppose he could be serious about her, do you?"
"Jim Kirk? In a serious relationship? Not a chance in hell."
"You sound confident."
"Jim's a good guy, Christine, he really is. But I ain't about to stand around and say he'd make a good monogamous partner when everyone and their dog's had a go with him."
Christine bit her lower lip in worry, falling silent, and Leonard, feeling a touch guilty at causing her concern, added that he believed Janice to be appropriately knowledgeable of the boy's habits, and would not allow herself to become another name to his long list of dalliances unless she so desired it. This seemed to soothe Nurse Chapel's nerves to a satisfactory degree, and she bid her friend goodnight without further enquiry, retiring to her quarters. Leonard did the same, but did not fall asleep till a long time after, his mind occupied by unfeeling Vulcans and misguided relationships.
~•~
A/N: So, I got weirdly into Star Trek lately and, in particular, Spones. They were ractically made for a P&P AU, but, when I looked it up, couldn't find any for them so I figured I'd take a crack at it. Jan and Jim kinda just happened because I love them together too. Jan as a counsellor came from something her actress said when asked about her role in the original movies. I set this around the end of their second year, so I don't think Spock has reached Commander status yet. If you couldn't tell already, this fic is super self indulgent and just for fun, but I would really appreciate any critique. It's my first time doing something more narrative based and I know I have weird pacing, so any advice would be very helpful. Thank you for reading!