After Effects
By Djinn
"So," Chapel said as Spock rolled off her, breathing hard. "When do you think you're going to get sick of me?"
He turned so he was facing her and gently wiped the sweat from her forehead. "Do you want me to grow tired of you?"
"No, but I don't want you to get bored of doing...this." She laughed and captured his hand with hers, pulling it down and down and...
Holy shit, the man was good at this.
"Surely you can ascertain that I am far from bored."
"I agree. You're not bored at this moment." He didn't stop what he was doing and she gave up trying to form sentences.
But when her breathing went back to normal, he actually frowned as he said, "I am concerned that you think I will cease wanting this."
"It's more me I'm afraid you'll cease wanting. No guy ever quits wanting sex."
"Have I done something to give you the impression I am tired of you?"
"No, but I let you into my bed—"
"We are in my bed."
"You know what I mean. We began a sexual relationship when you were compromised. After the meld with V'ger. It was...unethical."
"To be fair to your ethics, I have expressed interest in you in the past."
"Yes, when you were also compromised, that time by Pon Farr hormones."
He studied her. "This is not the same thing."
"But it's the basis of your argument—that you've expressed interest."
His lips ticked up; she amused him way more than she thought she would. "True." He nestled in. "I am happy. You are happy when you allow yourself to be. Soon I will not use the word 'happy' and will revert to something suitably Vulcan such as 'content.' But the sentiment will remain. I enjoy you. In or out of our beds." He sighed in a way that did sound pretty damn happy.
But she'd given him a bunch of orgasms and he'd reciprocated. What guy wouldn't be happy?
"Christine, go to sleep." He snaked his arm over her.
"I have to pee. Why do Vulcans never have to pee?"
"Desert climate. Conservation of hydration."
"Well let me up because I wasn't born in a desert."
He let her up and pulled the pillow she'd been resting on closer, as if he wanted her scent near him the short time she'd be in the head.
"Don't get that all sweaty." She shot him a mock glare.
But Vulcans didn't sweat much either. Same principle, no doubt. He didn't even bother to answer her, just welcomed her back to the bed once she was done and pulled her in close. "I care for you."
"You can't be certain of that. I ran your numbers today, remember? Everything's still out of whack from the meld with V'ger." But much less so than they had been.
"I am unconcerned."
"I'm not."
"Christine, please go to sleep." He kissed the side of her neck, his lips lingering in the way she liked.
"Not fair."
"Eminently practical, though." He relaxed against her and was out in mere moments.
She thought she'd be awake, obsessing over this, but he'd pulled out all the stops and her body was worn out even if her mind wasn't. When she woke, he was curled around her, his hair mussed, snoring softly.
A girl could get used to this.
##
She ran into Len as she was leaving Spock's quarters.
"Christine? A word?" He sounded cranky. And she didn't like the look in his eyes—the one that prefaced a soaking in acid-laced sarcasm.
"Here?"
"My office. When you"—he glanced down the hall, toward her quarters—"do whatever you do to get ready after...that." He waved toward Spock's door and didn't try to hide his disapproval.
The corridor was empty so she moved closer to him, pitching her voice low enough she didn't think Spock would hear her. "Let's just do it now."
"When you reek of his incense? He's compromised, Christine. What part of that doesn't compute?" He took a deep breath. "I could write you up."
She tried to dial back the anger. Tried to see her former boss—her...friend. Was he, though? Had he ever really been? With his constant teasing—or even taunting—about Spock. Was that what a friend would do?
She tried not to see the man who'd been yanked out of retirement and put in her slot, in charge of the sickbay she'd helped Will design.
The man who'd come into her sickbay and the first thing he'd done was give her shit for not being a nurse anymore.
"You know what, Doctor." She moved closer and stood straighter. "You do whatever the fuck you think best."
"Christine, come on. I'm trying to reason with you. He's..."
"He's what? Going to wake up someday and be over me. Yeah, he might be. But that happens in relationships. With or without compromise." It sort of killed her that she was talking as if she'd never broached this with Spock, as if this wasn't a concern for her—that she was crossing an ethical line.
But Len, coming in with his scorched-earth approach to colleague counseling—hell, she didn't think he even thought she was a colleague. Just a nurse with a new degree.
And she'd already had as many degrees as he did when she was a nurse.
"I just think you should have waited."
She let out a bark of laughter, the kind that was so full of bitterness that it ripped and tore. "Oh, like you did, when you thought you were dying? You moved in with a woman you'd known for what? A day? A few hours?"
She looked down—why the hell was she bringing this up now? Who the fuck cared if he married a hundred alien priestesses—and let them put behavior mod tech in his goddamned body.
She held back a shudder. The idea of the tech reminded her of Roger in a way.
She realized Len was talking. "What?"
"I asked you what the hell Natira had to do with Spock?"
"Actually very little. Since I've known him a long time and he has evidenced interest even if you prefer to act as if I'm wasting my time chasing him. I never chased him."
"Right. Because making him soup in no way equals chasing."
"I made everyone soup. It was my goddamn job—or so you told me when you decided my bedside manner was the cat's miaow. I even made you fucking soup when you were ill." He'd never returned the favor when she was sick.
"The soup you brought me didn't come with a promise of sex."
"Neither did his."
"Didn't stop you from..." He stopped and shook his head.
"Didn't stop me from what? Do you think I slept with him back then—when he was going through that?" She studied him, the tight purse of his lips, the way his eyebrows met over his eyes in the scowl she particularly hated. "I wouldn't have. He really was compromised. Far more than now."
"So you admit he is."
"Fine, yes, his chems are off. But he's fine."
"Or he's just horny and you're the nearest port in the storm."
"Why are you always so mean?"
"Why do you always look to him?"
She frowned. It wasn't the answer she expected. "Are you jealous?"
"And if I was? What difference would it make? He's all you see." He shook his head. "Obviously, I'm not completely objective in this. So we'll compromise. I won't write you up for taking advantage of your patient, and you will cease to treat him until he's back to Vulcan normal."
"Fine."
"Fine." He shook his head. "I hope to God you know what you're doing."
"That's a nice sentiment, but I don't believe that's what you hope. I think you hope we'll crash and burn spectacularly."
"You think whatever you want, Doctor. I suggest you go get ready. Shift started five minutes ago."
"One more thing you can write me up for." As he turned, she added, "In my sickbay."
He stopped and seemed to take a deep breath. "We'll save that topic for some other day." Then he walked away, leaving her shaking.
Spock's door opened and he frowned slightly as he took her in, then leaned out to watch Len entering the turbolift. "I heard all of that."
"Bully for you."
He gently drew her into his quarters and let the door close.
"Spock, no, I'll be late."
"You are already late; you will merely be later. You are shaking."
"Because I'm livid." She made a face. "No one else heard us, did they? It's your super-duper Vulcan hearing that let you hear us?"
"No one else heard you." He cupped her cheek with her palm.
"He just made me so mad. Not approving of us."
"It was my impression that only a small percentage of what you were fighting over had to do with me." He lifted an eyebrow.
"Meaning what?"
"I believe the two of you have unresolved issues."
"Yeah, Spock, he stole my job." She leaned against the wall and sighed heavily.
"Are you sure that is all it is?"
"Don't. Don't even." She held up her hand. "I have to get to work. And so do you." She frowned. "You're late and you don't even care. You really are compromised, Spock. What are we doing?"
He pulled her in and kissed her. "We will figure that out in time."
She eased away. "I hope so."
##
She waited until the end of the shift to face Len down, knocking on the doorframe to his office, expecting the stern look he was capable of putting on before a major dressing down, but instead he just waved her in, told her to put the door on privacy, and reached for his bourbon and two glasses.
She saw it was his favorite and sat down without launching into him the way she'd planned.
"I may have overreached," he said as he handed her a glass. His eyes weren't firing bullets like earlier, his energy was easy—the McCoy she loved to work with. The one she counted as her friend.
"He is compromised." It wasn't what she'd intended to lead with but it was out, so she let it hang and occupied herself with enjoying his very good whiskey.
He held his glass up and she clinked hers against it, not sure what they were toasting. Maybe honesty?
"Christine, I'm sorry about your reassignment—I hope you know I never intended for this to happen. I was retired...I thought I was retired anyway. Not the same thing, apparently."
"It's not just that you took it, Len. It's that you never said a thing about it. Just...moved in. To quarters I had to move out of during my off time. With no help from you."
"That why we have a quartermasters unit."
"It's been so long since you lived below decks—hell, maybe you never did, I don't know. It wasn't that long ago that I did. Do you understand how much the staff in that unit know? How much they tell the lower decks?"
"Seriously?"
"Yes. I was damned if it would be spread all over that I was having to move my shit." Her friends had helped her. Thank God the furniture stayed with the rooms. She'd just had to move her personal stuff. Which she had a lot of. She'd planned to make this a long assignment.
He looked uncomfortable.
"You didn't even say anything when the CMO's office was suddenly vacant. Two of the nurses helped me. We didn't say a goddamn thing to each other as we did it. Just got my shit out as fast as we could."
"Which two?"
"No way. They're mine. They'll always be loyal to me first."
"And that matters to you, doesn't it?" He sighed. "What the hell was I supposed to say that wouldn't make things worse? Jim just blew up your life."
"It wasn't just him. He could commandeer you for an emergency like V'ger, but you chose to stay on."
He started to say something and she said, "No, I don't care if you were bored in Savannah. This is on you."
"I wasn't bored in Savannah."
"Well, I wouldn't know, would I? We were both on Earth but you never got in contact."
"That works both ways, toots. Are you trying to say you wanted me to look you up? Because being suddenly attractive once your unrequited love decides to go home to become a fucking automaton is not exactly an esteem booster."
She knew he'd phrased it that way on purpose. She'd told him about Roger's true fate because she'd thought she could trust him—never expected to have it turned back on her. "That was low."
He had the grace to look like he agreed, but he just threw back his drink and poured another.
"Look, I never said I wanted you to look me up for a date, Len. But...would it have killed you to comm me? To check on me?"
"Would it have killed you to comm me? I wasn't the one with a life still." He closed his eyes as if angry he'd said that.
"So you were bored in Savannah."
"Fine, I was."
She finished her glass and pushed it toward him. "Fill 'er up, Doc."
He did and as she reached for it, he touched her fingers, rubbing gently. "You shouldn't be with Spock."
"And you're my boss. You shouldn't be fondling my fingers."
He didn't jerk them back—he had balls, she'd never doubted that. And he didn't play the card she expected: the "you were engaged to your boss" argument. "Spock's not himself."
"Maybe not. But for now, he's mine. Please, Len. Please don't take that away." She let the other stuff dangle unsaid but knew he'd hear it: don't take Spock away like he'd taken her job—her future.
"Fine, but if Jim asks me I'll have to—"
"He knows. Spock told him."
He looked honestly surprised. "Oh."
"Unless he told you to talk to me about it, he's fine with it. Or not objecting."
"He didn't tell me to talk to you." He leaned back. "He's...distant."
"I take it you didn't look him up either when you were in Savannah."
His nod was grudging and bitchy all at once. "I told him not to take that job. It drove him nuts just like I said it would."
"And that's just what he'd want you—his friend—to do. Stay home and pat yourself on the back for being right about his misery instead of reaching out."
His eyes narrowed. "How much time did you spend with him?"
"Not a whole lot. I was too busy hanging out with his protégé. You remember him. Went by Will Decker. Captain, before the return of the trinity."
"Were you sleeping with Decker?"
She laughed. She knew people thought that. "Nope. Just took him soup at the right time."
He looked confused.
"After his dad died. I thought, given how I'd lost Roger, that we might have something in common. I just went to say I was sorry. We...I don't know—clicked I guess is the best way to put it." They'd both been in love with aliens. That had been a big shared bond. Even if Will had left his and hers had never been hers to begin with.
And probably shouldn't be now. Might not be if the man in front of her didn't let this go.
Len leaned back, sighing heavily, and she realized he'd been holding himself tightly around her. "You think I don't feel shitty for taking your job? Because I do. But...I was just treading water at home. I was so unhappy."
"Couldn't you be happy on a different ship?" But she knew the answer to that. Kirk wouldn't let that happen. "Question withdrawn."
"I'm sorry, Christine. I'm sorry I didn't...reach out when you were having to move quarters and offices. I felt guilty. But...happy, too. And it was just easier to pretend it wasn't my problem than admit I was benefitting from your bad luck."
She nodded and stood. "Spock's expecting me for dinner." She waited.
"Enjoy yourself." It was said somewhat grudgingly and he didn't meet her eyes, but she knew from their years together that it was how he conceded something so emotionally laden.
"Thank you." She resisted adding "I will." Sometimes she could actually stop while she was ahead.
##
Chapel was working on reports—she hadn't realized how many M'Benga must have filled out—when she heard a soft cough at her door. She was shocked to see the lead doctor for beta shift in the doorway and glanced at her chrono. Shit, she'd been at this for hours.
"Got a sec?"
"Sure, Stell. Come on in."
"I need a second opinion from my chief." Stella Pierce smiled in a way Chapel knew was meant to be full of solidarity and support.
She took the padd and glanced at it. "McCoy's still here, right?"
"Yeah."
The thing Stella wanted a second look at was actually something the CMO should know about. Had he not been there, Chapel would have handled it, but things were weird enough without her looking as if she didn't know when to take a step back. "You need to show this to him." She handed the padd back.
"Well, if we wait a minute or two, I'm sure he'll be gone and then you can handle it."
Chapel hit the button under her desk that turned privacy on—a nice upgrade and one she'd designed into the refit plans after getting sick of having to get up to shut the door once it was clear something wasn't going to be a door-open conversation with a patient. The door slid shut, the windows darkened.
"Don't lecture me, Christine. I took this slot to work for you, not some good old boy from Georgia." She did a creditable imitation of Len when he was really milking the accent.
"That's not all he is. He's a fine doctor and he'll be a good boss. Besides, you're the head of beta. You barely see him other than nights like this."
"He's in that office more than you might think, kiddo." Stella sat back. "Do you know what he said to me about you when we were introduced after V'ger? 'Why, Christine and I go way back. She was my head nurse, don't you know?'"
"He did not say 'don't you know.'"
"Okay, that part he didn't say. But the rest. Like...you weren't a doctor when he knew you. It ticked me off."
"Actually I was a doctor—of biochem. And I was his head nurse. It's not a lie."
"Why are you defending him? He took your job." She closed her eyes. "Hell, he sort of took mine. I was hoping D'Angelo wouldn't work out and I could move up to be your deputy. I know you didn't pick him—Decker did, right?."
She nodded. "Another casualty of the Kirk coup. He found a new ship. Maybe you should, too."
"Maybe you should. Jesus, Christine, didn't you tell me when we talked about this assignment that you weren't ever going to throw your career away again for a man? And here you are doing it because you're making like a bunny with the Vulcan half of Heroes of the Galaxy and Beyond. I get he's dark and mysterious and smart and, well, famous as hell. But you said—"
"I said a lot of things. I didn't know he was an option, to be honest, or I might not have said that. I've liked him for a long time, Stell. It's not like I just met him and boom."
Stella rolled her eyes. "But you could be CMO on another ship."
"Are you aware a lot of people believe I slept my way to this one? I think I need to hunker down and prove I'm a good deputy CMO for a captain no one thinks I'm having sex with before I start perusing the vacancies."
"I know you weren't sleeping with him. Decker was a smart guy. He would never have given someone who might be mad at him for leaving the seat up the authority to relieve him of command."
Chapel smiled. "You're probably right. Although that's not one of the approved reasons for relieving someone." She gestured to the padd. "Go give that to McCoy. Give him a chance. For me, all right? I don't want him to think I'm dividing loyalties." Even if she still hadn't told him which of the nurses were the ones who'd helped her move her stuff into this smaller office.
She hit the door button and Stella got up. She peeked around and made a face that obviously meant Len was still in his office. "Fine. For you."
Chapel waited till she heard her say, "Hi, Doctor McCoy. Do you have a moment? I need to run something by you." And then Len's tones, mercifully not overly loaded up with Georgia good old boy, telling her to come in and sit down.
Stella was just being hard on him. He had a soothing accent most of the time.
Chapel smiled and went back to the reports from hell.
##
"Christine," Kirk said as he slipped in next to her at the bar. "Do you mind if I steal your beau?"
"Depends on how long you're going to keep him." She smiled and he grinned back.
"Chess, Doctor." He winked. "And for God's sake, call me Jim. You're with one of my best friends."
Spock was safely over talking to Scotty and Sulu, so she leaned in and asked softly, "Are you okay with that?"
He leaned in even closer. "Have you been listening to the rumor mill again? I am not involved with my first officer." He started to laugh.
"No, I mean—he was kind of, well, ummm...compromised when we started this relationship?"
"Nothing compromised about his chess game. Or his job performance. Way I see it, you've liked him forever and I've always suspected he was not unaware of you. So...it's nice, right?"
"It is nice, sir."
"Jim."
"Jim. It's nice, Jim." She took a deep breath. "I love him."
"Good. I'd hate to think you were just using him for the sex." With a last grin, he took his drink and went over to Spock and the others. A short while later, he and Spock found a table and set up the chess board.
"Bet that'll get old in time." Len slid in next to her and slapped the table. "Bourbon, my good man, and make sure it's good Kentucky straight. None of this synthehol crap."
She rolled her eyes.
"What? Do you like synthetic wine? No. But you look at me like I'm some fussy old grandma wanting my bourbon authentic."
"You're fussy and old but not a grandma." She batted her eyelashes at him until he started to laugh.
"Cut that out. You'll give a fussy old man the wrong idea, woman." He looked back over at Spock and Kirk.
"I don't think it's going to get as old for me as it has for you," she murmured.
He didn't turn to look at her.
"Being left out can hurt."
"Well, then it's damned lucky that you're here so I'm not alone, isn't it?" He waved the bartender over to refill her wine. "So, tell me the story on Pierce."
"I worked with Stella when I was doing my residency at Starfleet Medical. She was...just old enough to be a mentor but not too old to not understand what I was going through."
"And now you're her boss?"
"Yeah, well, I asked her to come."
"Ahhhhh. A loyal recruit. That explains a lot." He leaned in letting his shoulder rest against hers. "She doesn't like me."
"She doesn't know you. If anything, she probably resents you on my behalf."
"How many are there like that in sickbay? I never know who's here because you hand-picked them and who's here because it's the Enterprise."
She rolled her eyes. "You have access to every personnel file. Do your own digging, boss."
"More fun to just ask you. See you squirm."
"Not squirming."
"You never did, Christine. It's why I loved working with you."
She studied him; he seemed to honestly believe that. "You think you never hurt my feelings?"
"Oh, pfff, I'm sure I did. But you came back for more and generally gave as good as you got." He finally met her eyes. "What? You disagree with that assessment?"
"Kind of. Yeah. There were times—the things you said about my feelings for Spock—that really hurt. Like, take it back to your quarters and stew kind of hurt."
"Wow. Okay. I'll watch that. Although you're fucking him nightly from what I can tell." At her look, he shrugged. "I didn't redesign that thing that pretends to be a wall between his quarters and mine. The old ship was way more soundproofed."
"Or Spock just wasn't getting regular sex."
"Or you're just really loud." He waggled his eyebrows, and she rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well, whatever the reason, there sure isn't anything to tease you about now except possibly straining something."
"Tease. A problematic word. Sounds so innocent but hurts so much."
"Would you call it something different? Bullying?"
"Len, for shit's sake. You started this convo, not me. Just drink, okay?"
"Would you call it bullying? Because I never..."
"Teasing is fine. Whatever." She studied him. "You know the soundproofing is adjustable, right?" She started to laugh at his look. "I never had cause to change it. I was going to be living next to Sonak. I just left it on low."
"It's adjustable?"
"Yeah, on the room terminal, under comfort settings. Starfleet realized that different species had different requirements—they enlarged the range of soundproofing. You can hear just a heartbeat if you want—that's crucial to Tresalix crew and some other species find it comforting. Others, like Deltans, like to hear intimacy, even if they've sworn it off. So fix it. We're not your porn channel."
"Shit. I've been listening to you caterwaul this whole time."
"I don't caterwaul."
"You aren't quiet. I'm just saying." He started to laugh. "Man, do I feel stupid now."
She saw Rand come in and waved her over. "Well here's some company to make you feel less so. Behave yourself."
"Yes, mother." He held his glass up as Jan walked up. "Janice, my dove, you look as radiant as a Georgia sunrise."
"How much has he had to drink?" Rand made the motion that meant "beer and make it snappy" and the bartender hurried over with it.
"Hi, Janice." He was practically drooling in the bottle and stood just staring after handing it over.
"Hi, Kurt. I'm with my friends now and there are folks trying to get your attention."
"Right. Okay. Maybe we can dance later? When I get a break."
She shrugged and then laughed once he walked off. "Oh, I'd forgotten how good a big ship could be for a girl's ego."
"The fact that you ever forgot is a crime, Janice. A damn shame."
"His southern's coming out. I think he must have gotten started early." She took a chair on the other side of Chapel.
"Did you know the soundproofing in our quarters is adjustable?" He was frowning.
"Yes, I read the specs for the refits. Didn't you? Who's next to y—ohhhhh. Uh. Okay, so very awkward." But Chapel gave her points for rallying as she said in a falsely bright voice, "So who's excited that we're going to the pleasure planet?" She pointed with her bottle at Len. "I bet you're sorry Barrows isn't on the ship anymore."
"You weren't even onboard then." He narrowed his eyes at Chapel. "Did you tell her?"
"She did. She was...not happy with your partner choice."
"Jan." She hadn't been happy, but not because she cared on her own behalf. It was just Tonya had been so damned annoying, strutting around sickbay in that ridiculous princess outfit.
"Tell me more, my dear. Christine plays her cards awfully close to the chest where I'm concerned."
"Well, I sort of wondered why she cared, frankly." Jan was winking at him and Chapel wanted to bop her. Hard.
"I don't—didn't care except she was getting glitter all over the instruments in sickbay. He can call Tonya back from wherever she is now and they can re-experience the magic that was that planet, for all I care."
"Is Spock going to...live the fantasy?" Jan made a face and shot Len a conspiratorial grin.
Chapel felt her grin fading a little. Spock had made it very clear he had no interest in role-playing down on the "imagine it and you can be it" planet. "We're staying on the ship."
"Of course you are." Jan rolled her eyes.
Len laughed. "Are you not a fan of Mister Tall, Dark and Vulcan, my dearest? Because I thought a lot of you before, but if that's the case, I'm going to ratchet my approval rating way, way up."
Jan seemed to be thinking how to answer. Finally she said softly, "Once, when I needed understanding, he offered...something else. I get that Christine loves him, and the captain thinks the world of him, and that he's smart and capable and likely to save me a hundred times and I'll probably never know I should even say thank you. But...I'll always remember that moment."
Chapel frowned. "What moment?"
"I never told you. I didn't want to spoil your crush—and, well, it was just him and me. One of those moments you keep replaying, asking yourself, 'Did I really hear that?'" She took a deep, slightly ragged breath. "You remember when the captain was split into his dark and light half?"
Len frowned and said, "He attacked you. The dark side of him."
"Yeah. But attacked is such a safe word. A bear attacks you. A swarm of bees attacks you. A man...a man tries to—he tried to rape me."
"Jan, you never said. I thought he was just violent... You know. Mean. Not...not that."
"Yeah, well, I never hid how much I wanted him. Apparently, the dark part of his nature was getting the message loud and clear and decided to take me up on what I wanted—only I didn't want it the way he wanted it. Dark, I mean. Only dark."
"But what did Spock do that hurt you?" Chapel was feeling very off balance.
"When it was all over, after I...talked to the captain so we were, you know, okay with what had happened, Spock asked me if I didn't think that the imposter had some 'interesting qualities.' But it wasn't just that he said it, it was how he said it. With a leer. Like...that was fun for me."
Chapel wasn't sure how to respond, but Len leaned in and said, "That was a shitty thing to say."
"Thank you." She glanced at Chapel. "Cat got your tongue, Christine?"
"I just...I don't know why he would say something like that. Maybe he didn't realize how inappropriate it was."
"So he gets off for a tasteless comment, but I'm a real son of a bitch for teasing you? I see how it is." Len took a long sip.
"You did tease her," Jan said, rushing to the rescue apparently.
"Jan, for God's sake, is nothing I told you going to stay between us?"
"Like how you told me once you thought your boss was appealing and if you weren't in love with Spock...?"
"I was the boss in question, right?" He was laughing.
"Yes. Only she didn't really say that." Jan rolled her eyes. "See, I can keep secrets."
Trouble was, she wasn't keeping one. Chapel had said that. Deep into a pitcher of the local version of margaritas with Jan and Ny on shore leave. But she'd said it.
"Well, then no harm, no foul. Come on, Janice. Let's dance." He slipped off the stool, held his arm out like a southern courtier of old, and led Janice off to the dance floor. They talked the entire time they were dancing.
Chapel ordered another drink and prayed to whatever god protected women with friends with big mouths that Jan was regaling him with transporter-school stories or how to adjust his room settings, and not sharing confidences Chapel had let slip when she was drunk.
##
Nyota was admiring herself in her mirror.
"New dress?"
"Yeah. You like?"
"Very much. And you look amazing in it. You always have nice things." Chapel rarely took that much of an interest in clothes, although she was suddenly way more interested in lingerie than she used to be.
"You know, just because Spock isn't coming down to the planet, doesn't mean you don't get to. Join the gang. No silly sex fantasies. We're going to eat our way across the Federation—the food is amazing and it's like you're really there—and there's always a table waiting."
"It's okay. Someone's gotta man the fort."
"Doesn't have to be you." Ny pouted.
"Don't. Maybe I just want to stay up here and have sex with Spock in places that normally we couldn't."
"You stay off my station, you nasty girl." She grinned. "But okay. That makes it better."
Chapel laughed. "Is Len going to be with you?"
"No, he's staying up here, too. That's why you don't have to."
"He said he was going."
"Maybe without the lovely Tonya"—Ny curtsied and did a creditable Barrows simper—"it's just not the same."
"Maybe so." She touched Ny's shoulder gently. "Have fun. Let loose."
"You too. Only not on my station."
"Message received, Ny."
She turned and headed back to sickbay, fighting the steady stream of crew heading for the transporters. Everyone but a skeleton crew was on liberty. Spock had the conn and Chapel knew Ny was aware of that. There would be no wild sex until his replacement arrived, and even then it he wasn't much of an adventurer when it came to being potentially observed—and truth to tell, neither was she.
Just one more way they were turning out to be well matched.
Len looked up from his desk as she walked in. "Nothing for us to do unless someone stubs their toe."
"Get a head start on the reports, I guess." She went into her office and sat, then heard him come in. He lounged in one of her guest chairs, putting his feet up on her desk. "Make yourself at home, Len."
"I will. Thanks. So...if you were down there, what would you want to do? I mean it can be literally anything."
"Yeah, I remember it from the first time."
"What did you do?"
"That's a little personal?"
"It is, isn't it? Answer the question."
"Well, if you must know, I made my peace with Roger. Said goodbye. And not like that. Nothing...nasty." She'd done enough with the android she'd thought was her fiancé. She never needed fake-Roger sex again.
"That was well adjusted of you."
She nodded and pulled up a report.
"Christine, no. Talk to me. We're alone here—Nurse Lat'tia is getting lunch—and it's just us." He crossed his arms behind his head. "Why so much rancor about Tonya? It wasn't my impression you gave a rat's ass what I did in my off time."
"Your impression was correct."
"Was it, though? Because you seem equally passionate in your dislike of Natira—or my relationship with her anyway."
"Coincidence. You've had other women. I'm fine with them."
He took a deep breath and just stared at her, then he slid his legs off her desk and leaned in. "When you thought I was dying, you were there for me. A lot."
"We're friends. Friends do that."
"I've had occasion, sitting on my lovely porch, to think about those times. How you said a lot could happen in a year. That I should make the most of it or something to that effect. Were you offering something I was too dumb to see?"
She looked away. "No. And you found Natira. So...even if I had been..."
"Christine. It's just you and me here. Tell me the truth."
"Why?" She hated how helpless she sounded. How frustrated. The way her voice went up and caught. Why did this matter now, when she was with Spock?
"Because if you were offering and you said that again to me, I wouldn't be looking for any alien priestesses."
"Why are you doing this?" Again the damn catch in her voice, the high pitch. Damn him. "You say you sat on your porch thinking of this. I was on Earth, too. Why not ask me then? Why now, when I'm with someone?"
"Because I hate that you're with him. And not just because it shows an astounding lack of judgment on your part as a medical professional."
"Don't even. We've been over this."
"Yes. We have." He stood. "Tell me, Christine. What would you have done with a real lover, down there on a planet with no limits?"
"Well, it wouldn't have been putting on chiffon and a big pointy hat and pretending to be a goddamned princess, so I don't think I would've been in the running for fantasy of a lifetime for you." She stood. "I'm going to take a page from your book, sir. I'm going to mosey up to the bridge and shoot the shit with the man in charge."
His expression changed, grew steely. The way it often did when he lost control of something.
She leaned in and made her voice as husky as she could. "Maybe I'll get him to take a break, my non-real lover as you implied. Maybe I'll have him take me up against the wall and really put that soundproofing to the test. Maybe I'll have him fuck me so hard I—"
He turned and walked out.
She hurried out before she could act any less professional.
Spock looked up as she walked off the lift and his expression lightened. "Hello, Doctor."
Just seeing him made her feel better, less...irate. "Hello, sir. Thought I'd see what was so compelling about this place that my boss can't stay away."
He motioned her close and almost smiled. "I do not believe it is the same reason you are here."
"I would hope not. I'm here to see you and only you." She began to grin and tried to bite it back.
"What?"
"Any chance we'll have the bridge to ourselves?"
"It is unlikely." He met her eyes, his expression relaxed, even amused. "Regrettably."
She grinned. "You hungry? I could get us lunch."
"I would enjoy that. You know what I like."
"I do." And the nice thing was that she did.