Title: The Platonian Effect [Part One] Series: Star Trek TOS
Type: Fanfiction Pairing:Spock/Christine Rating: 18
Summary: Set after the events in Plato's Stepchildren. Spock finds time to investigate the powers he manifested on Platonius, however, after the abuse he suffered, his mind moves to his inability to save himself and Christine. If only he could talk to her...
Deals with rape and emotional turmoil.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Star Trek characters or anything from the universe of Star Trek. I am just taking the characters and playing with them a while – promising to restore them whole and unblemished! Thanks to Gene Roddenberry for creating these toys for me to enjoy. Please don't take any of my playing as having any bearing on the actual franchise. Enjoy.
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The de-briefing had been over faster than anticipated. The captain had organised quarters for Alexander and the small Platonian was eagerly soaking up all the information about Earth and the customs of the Federation.
Spock found it curious that one who had been so badly mistreated had not taken the opportunity to punish his oppressors. There had been times on Platonious where even Spock himself had been tested.
Kirk and McCoy refused to discuss it so soon after the incident, although McCoy had made reference to partaking in several bottles of Sorian brandy. Spock had declined, choosing instead to return to his quarters and log the effects of his new powers before the serum wore off.
He had been attempting to recreate a trick he had once seen, by pouring water into a glass using only his mind, when the Comm. Unit called for his attention.
"Spock. Bones and I are heading to rec room two. I wanted to know if you were interested in a game of chess."
Spock rose an eyebrow. Obviously his two friends were concerned. They had been behaving rather cautiously around him since he crushed the gold goblet, with his bare hand, during their incarceration. One moment of lost control and it caused so much concern.
"I am thankful for the offer, Captain, but I will decline on this occasion."
There was a brief silence. "Ok. If you change your mind, you know where we'll be."
Spock conceded. "Very well."
"Oh, and, Spock…"
"Yes Captain?"
"We're off duty. Call me Jim."
"Yes Captain."
With a slight chuckle, the communication ended.
Spock sat back and steeped his fingers. His mind brushed against the ornamental bells that hung on his wall and he relaxed into meditation.
His control had waned more than once during the mission to Platonus. Memory slipped through the meditation; holding Christine Chapel close to him, pressing her into his arms, feeling her breath on his neck, claiming her soft lips beneath his crushing embrace.
And, for a moment, it had seemed he was willing to allow this.
Later, at the de-briefing, he noticed how the Chief Nurse avoided him. She barely looked at him, went out of her way in fact. If only he had had the chance to speak to her. Tell her that the shame coursing through her was unwarranted. That he understood and wanted to take it all away.
The door chime sounded.
Spock rose. Evidently Jim and McCoy had decided to bring the recreation to Spock in light of his refusal to join them.
The doors opened on a confused and surprised Nurse Chapel. "Mr Spock." She said. It sounded more like a question than greeting.
Spock noticed the other officers passing in the corridor. He saw how they noticed Christine at his door.
"Will you come inside?" Spock asked.
Christine hesitated. Spock felt his heart jump. He didn't want her to leave.
"Perhaps, if you have some Vulcan tea…" Christine moved past him, toward his desk.
Spock almost felt himself smile. He moved to the tea-service, hurrying to make her the drink. She accepted gracefully, but he had come to expect grace from Christine.
He watched her now, her hands trembling. If only there was a way to ease her. He poured the tea and handed it to her.
She barely looked at him. "I…" She began, placing the cup to her lips and drinking long, almost sighing at the taste and heat. She breathed, trying to dispel the tremble in her voice. "I don't really know what I am doing here."
Christine rang her hands, tightly. Her rocking back and forth was almost imperceptible… but Spock was Vulcan. He knew her discomfort around him. He wished, as much as a Vulcan could wish within the bounds of logic, she would relax.
For the moment, the tea seemed to be taking effect. Christine sought out the chair at his desk as the tension visibly ebbed away from her muscles, the knots creasing her brow eased and she smiled into the curls of steam rising from her cup.
Spock found her smile most aesthetically pleasing. It brought warmth to her complexion and sparkle to her aqua eyes. Spock concluded she was the most attractive figure in his room, if not, in the entire ship.
Then she looked to him… and in their gaze, her smile was only outdone by the radiance of emotion that shone from those portals she called eyes.
Curious.
Christine began chuckling.
"You find my tea amusing."
"No," Christine said, setting the cup down. "No, Spock. I found the situation amusing. And I still don't know why I am here." She reclined into the chair, taking the time to look about his room.
Spock rose a brow and joined her at the opposite side of the desk. "By 'the situation', I take it you mean our forced performance on Platonious."
Expecting the chief nurse to tense and quickly leave, Spock was surprised to see her shrug shyly. This was unexpected and fortunate, as he felt the need to discuss the situation with her rather than brood alone…
"Neither of us were responsible Miss Chapel," Spock said to himself rather than to comfort her.
"I was so scared." She admitted, avoiding his eye. "I always thought you… and the captain were infallible." She smiled sweetly, "But to have them controlling you as well…"
"I am sorry I failed you."
Christine rushed forward, moving her hands across the desk to grasp at his own, "You didn't fail me."
Spocks eyes darted downward to the touch. Her flesh on his tingled and sizzled with compassion and such mixtures of emotion that Spock began to loose himself in the feelings… surging to the fore was a wave of concern and heat that Spock needed to repress and shake himself free of this empathic woman… simply to maintain an element of control.
He had no idea that her mind could be so intoxicating a cocktail.
"I truly never wished for you to be placed under such threat, Christine."
Christine shook her head, giving a slight huff. "I know you would never threaten or hurt me," She looked away, "not of your own free will." Lowering her head, she added, "You wouldn't have even wanted me there."
Spock shifted forward in his seat, keen to make his point clear. "There is no other woman I would have rather trusted in such a position. I believe this was the reason behind your selection. They did, after all, want their subjects to become aroused."
The chief nurse looked a little startled, but stayed silent.
Not quite what Spock had intended, however, it was a better option than Christine bolting for the door. Most of all, for no plausible reason, he wanted to take her hand in his, more than anything else in his universe, he wanted to feel her slender fingers intertwine with his own.
To his surprise, he found Christine's hand brushing his… her fingers outstretching to meet his, halfway. Her hand was so delicate and soft; he found the need to weave his flesh with hers quite necessary.
Christine smiled slightly and glanced away. "I am not sure why I reached out to you then-"
"I am most gratified you did." Spock moved quickly, to perch on the edge of his desk, not letting their hands part in the process.
Christine's breath poured out in a frustrated sigh. "Spock," she faltered. "I don't really understand what has changed between us. But I know something has."
"Miss Chapel…" that was not adequate for the moment, "Christine…"
"Yes, Mr Spock?"
She looked so innocent. So willing to be his… he smiled, genuinely and traced a finger along her cheek. "I believe it might be appropriate for you to call me Spock."
He found, most illogically, that the thought of holding Christine in his arms was most agreeable.
She was there, looking to him with wide, ocean eyes.
He reached down, wanting to press his feelings into her lips with his own… she was there, accepting and giving in equal measure.
Before he understood how, they were intertwined; hearts and souls, lips and bodies, until they were one in every sense of the word.
His hands were in her hair, unleashing the intoxicating scents that fell from her blonde curls. Her lips molded to his and moved with an ocean of emotion…
Spock stood, bringing Christine with him, holding her closer than his skin.
Part of him knew that allowing the emotions that were crashing against his control to overtake him was a dangerous proposition… but nothing about this mission or the events of the planet had been normal and, without his usual meditations, his feelings seemed stronger in their battles to be recognized.
And here was Christine, telling him with every inch of her body that touched his that she wanted him in the same way he wanted her…
"Chirstine…" he said, feeling her hands pressing into his back, "this is something you will have to be sure of…"
"I am…" she breathed…
And he couldn't help himself… he pressed his lips to hers; but unlike Platonius, this kiss held no force and no resistance.
Her weight was lifted easily, as he moved them through to the sleeping area, keeping her close so their kiss remained…
Fire surged in his veins and he realized the sensations he felt were from the meeting of their skin…
Taking a hold of the seam of her tunic, he looked down on her. "You must be certain me you want me." Spock growled, desperate to be certain.
"I want you." Christine breathed.
He moved quickly, gathering her to him, pressing his lips to hers and tasting her as the thin fabric of her uniform tore to reveal her unblemished skin and perfect frame.
"Tell me you need me."
"I've always needed you."
She shivered slightly and he wished he had not been so rough, wished beyond all else that she would not fear him...
"I'm not afraid." She said, as though she knew what he was thinking.
The blue fabric tore with little effort, revealing Chritines pale beauty wrapped in satin, cream undergarments.
Spock decided that she was still too over dressed and was about to mention the fact when Christine reached up and disrobed entirely, presenting herself with the confidence Spock had admired in her.
He controlled the primal snarl that curled his lip as he reached to trace a line from Christine's hip to her breast. She shuddered.
"Do not fear me." Spock whispered, sensing her resolve strengthen as her fingers wove their way up his chest and interlocked about his neck.
She was so close now. Her lips parted slightly and he could smell her sweet breath on his face... all he could think of was bridging the gap.
But Christine was, again, ahead of him as she brought their bodies together and closed her lips on his... and Spock simply couldn't help himself, his fingers reached up and found her psychic points, creating the bond between them.
He felt her shock at the move, the intimate connection they now shared. He smiled at her reaction.
Does it surprise you that I feel Christine? He asked through their link, that I care so deeply for you.
I always knew you felt Spock... The human gazed into the depth of Vulcan emotion and sighed, I didn't know it would be like this for you. You have always been so controlled.
Control does not mean repression, his thoughts smiled, I wish you could understand.
Spock... how could I not? And she was with him, moving her fingers beneath the fabric of his uniform until they were before one another in the flesh.
Can you tell me you are certain? Spock asked, pressing her urgently closer to him...
I am, Spock. She sighed as heat flared between them, I'm yours.
And the night became flame.
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