A/N: hello all! This is my own little contribution to the fandom. Christine Chapel is (for those of you who aren't familiar with TOS) the head Nurse of the USS Enterprise, and I decided that I wanted to try and work her into the new movie timeline. This is a stand-alone but more fics will probably come in this series, with an emphasis on kirk/Chapel, because kirk needs some love too! Reviews are love and I own absolutely none of this. Enjoy.

The Gravity of Solid Ground

"All set, Cadet?" comes a voice from behind her, and Christine turns around to answer the officer who's spoken. He's tall and burly, with short cropped hair and the look of a boy who's used to getting results.

"Oh, it's Nurse, actually," she replies with a smile. The officer looks slightly confused. Maybe not results of the scholastic variety, then.

"My mistake, Nurse..." he trails off, waiting for her name.

"Chapel," Christine offers. The officer (who doesn't look like he could be that much older than her) gives her a grin and rakes his eyes down her uniform, and Christine wants to roll her eyes but doesn't.

"Ah. Well, pardon me Nurse Chapel – it's just that you're wearing a cadet's uniform," he goes on, clearly expecting her to give the details.

Ugh – you never can keep your mouth shut can you! You should have just let him call you cadet; it isn't like you were ever going to see him again anyways, she bemoans in her head. It's not all his fault though - she just isn't up for conversation at the moment. Especially conversation that turns in any direction towards what she's been through in the past month and a half. It's no one's business but her own, and she'd like to keep it that way. That's not what she says though.

"Oh, yes – today's my first assignment, and my things have already gone up. I'm the last of the equipment, I guess," she answers lightly, almost teasingly, her voice melodic and her smile bright. The officer grins at her, his line of questioning forgotten, and gives her a helping hand into the shuttle.

"I don't think anyone'd ever mistake a girl like you for equipment," he offers in a slow drawl. "If you need anything, Nurse Chapel," he inflicts, "just shout."

"Thank you, I'll do that," she answers, making a show of settling into her seat and taking out her PADD. The officer seems to get the hint and walks off, but not before sparing one last smile in her direction, which she returns. As soon as he's out of sight she exhales heavily through her nose, biting her bottom lip a little, and rests her head against the wall behind it. Sometimes being constantly cheerful could be exhausting. She's about to go through her checklist of things to do when she suddenly feels the vibrations of the shuttle - they were beginning to move. Christine looks around her – she's one of only three other people on the craft; a far cry from what should have been a packed shuttle, full of noise and gossip and laughter and nervous energy.

Full of all her friends.

The thought forces her to close her eyes and swallow. She doesn't really like to dwell on it.

It's been close to three weeks since the disaster on Vulcan – or, the destruction of Vulcan, rather – and while the idea of the close annihilation of the Vulcan race upsets her immensely, it's not been Vulcan faces in her mind when she wakes up from her nightmares. Maybe that's not logical – the Vulcan loss is far greater, after all, than her own personal bereavements, but that's just the nature of grief, she supposes. The rationalization comes not without a hint of bitterness though - as if she weren't dealing with enough grief already.

The shuttle moves into the air and she can see the destruction of the San Francisco area below her. The Romulan drill had sent shockwaves into the ground that had caused some pretty massive earthquakes in the already notoriously unstable region. And with doctors on such short supply, she'd been tapped for trauma duty as soon as she'd gotten back. She'd spent the next four days on the 'front lines' as the senior Medics called it, digging through rubble and helping the ambulance teams, orchestrating triage and going from hospital to hospital with supplies. She'd then spent the next two and a half weeks helping the small number of doctors Starfleet had left treat the injured in the neighbouring area. Thousands of patients had come in needing assistance, and Christine had found herself suddenly thrust into what it really meant to be a medical professional. It had been exhausting work – physically, mentally, and emotionally - but in a small selfish way she'd been grateful for it. After all, tending to other people's pain allowed a nice respite from looking after her own emotional well being. Grieving for patients she didn't know was better than grieving for the father she'd just lost, or the boyfriend who'd just left her, or the many friends she'd never see again. She'd decided after her first 16 hour shift in the med labs that walking around the halls in a caffeine daze was infinitely better than sitting in the now empty and silent residence, left to her own thoughts.

The whole thing was such an odd, horrific turn of events that it made her head spin just to think about it. First, there had been her father. He'd suffered a stroke back home in South Carolina and she'd been on the first shuttle out, relieved from her duties as a cadet for the time being.

That had been a week before the Vulcan disaster.

Her father had died before she'd even landed in her native state.

It had been a blow to her system like nothing she'd ever experienced before. All her life Christine Chapel had been the lucky girl; pretty, popular, smart and kind, with lots of friends, a loving family and a devoted boyfriend, Roger. After she'd left high school she had known right away that Starfleet was the path for her. She'd always loved helping people and nursing was something she knew she would excel at and enjoy. Plus, it gave her an opportunity to be able to see Roger, who'd been accepted into a prestigious exploratory program out in a sector of deep space she couldn't bother to remember the name of anymore.

The seemingly inconsolable grief she'd felt at the time had been like a knife through her heart, like some physical ailment that choked her every time she took a breath. She could still remember the thoughts that had gone through her head – how unfair it all was, how he was too young to die, how she hadn't sent him transmissions as often as she should have, how she couldn't seem to find one clear memory of him in her brain other than the fact that he loved her and she would never see him again.

She could remember thinking how unlucky it was to have happened before she'd graduated – how her father would never see his little girl go up in space, or get married to Roger...

Christine stopped in her reminiscing for a moment to let a scowl come upon her delicate features. She wasn't ordinarily an angry kind of person, but there wasn't anything she felt now for Roger Korby but blind hatred.

She'd sent a transmission to Roger the day of her father's death and had received no transmission in reply until three days later, which had been unusual – he'd always been prompt with his replies as long as she'd known him. It was almost ironically funny, looking back. She'd felt so relieved when she'd gotten his transmission, ready to hear his soft voice soothe and comfort her.

She'd replayed the message sixteen times before she finally realized that the contents were real and not some joke or mistake.

The message had been two minutes and thirty eight seconds long, and had gone something like this:

Hey Christine, sweetie, I'm so sorry about your dad. George was a good man. Listen....umm, this isn't the best time to do this, probably, but it really can't wait any longer, so...I guess I'm just gonna come out with it. I don't think...this is working. With us, I mean. You're a great gal, really. You know I love you. I'm just not IN love with you anymore – I'm sure you must feel the same way, I mean it's been so long since we've- anyways, listen, I...I gotta go, but keep your chin up, and uhh...please don't...try and contact me, okay? Okay. Well, bye, Christie.

Her mother had found her there an hour later, staring at the computer screen with both hands gripping the monitor and her nose pressed almost to the plasma. The idea that her boyfriend – the very boyfriend who she'd always thought would someday be her husband – had broken up with her in two minutes after spending close to eight years together was absolutely absurd. It really was. It was actually completely ludicrous.

What really killed her though, was the fact that he couldn't have even bothered to put it in a separate transmission. If someone had told her a month before that her boyfriend of eight years would break up with her via the same transmission he would send to tell her 'sorry your father died', she would have laughed in their face. Well, no – she probably would have politely disagreed. But still - the fact remained. She had become father-less and boyfriend-less in the span of four days. She only had so much time for leave, though, and was due back at Starfleet the next week whether she was ready or not.

And then the Vulcan disaster had happened. It was a horribly ironic twist that two great personal tragedies had actually ended up saving her life, but 'cruel twists of fate' were apparently the basis of her life now. By that point, the San Francisco earthquakes that were about to happen were really just icing on the cake.

She'd gotten on the shuttle and high tailed it back to Starfleet, ready to do anything other than sit at home and cry. Maybe it was a horrible thing to think about, but the disaster around her had actually helped her a bit – it seemed like the Universe's way of justifying things; just one small condolence in that she wasn't suffering alone.

She'd thrown herself into her work for weeks, taking extra long shifts and extra hard cases. The trauma team had praised her to the rafters and she'd been promoted from Cadet to Nurse with commendations for field work and amazing references.

But most importantly, she'd been given a spot on board the newest (and now most infamous) starship of the fleet – the Enterprise.

Out of the six starships that had gone out to Vulcan, it was the only one to have survived. Under the leadership of the now Captain Kirk, the ship had gone on to destroy the Romulan threat and save Earth. It was a story told on a galactic scale, the kind of adventurous tale you hear about but can't really connect with because it seems so much bigger than you.

With so few trained cadets left, the ship had needed a crew of...well, whoever it could find really, as soon as it had landed at spacedock. So it was only natural that Christine, with her shiny new commendations and excellent service record would be requested for duty. That was where she was headed now.

To be honest, Christine couldn't tell whether she was looking forward to it or not – on the one hand, it was nice to finally get back into some semblance of a normal routine and job, as opposed to just being on duty for days at a time, waiting for new catastrophes to arise that needed attention. But on the other hand she didn't really like the idea of down time – who knew how much action the ship was going to see? It was only supposed to be on an exploratory mission, after all. Too much time to think wasn't something Christine was looking forward to – the disaster at home had at least kept her mind off of her father and Roger and all her friends. Hopefully there'd be lots of work aboard the ship, but who knew?

Maybe she was just making a big deal out of nothing though – it wasn't like she was going to be the ONLY person on board. There would be tons of people! With her sweet and easy demeanor Christine had never had a problem making friends and didn't anticipate that that would change now. Plus, she already knew some of the crew members aboard – maybe not excellently, but she knew them.

Nyota, for instance, had been a good friend of hers at the academy. They had never been 'best friends' per se, but they had spent lots of time together studying and just hanging out – they shared a similar work ethic and Nyota's extroverted and vividly passionate personality was a nice contrast to her own more introverted sweetness. And of course she knew the older and handsome Dr. McCoy from her own classes – the senior Medical officer had TA'd and even helped teach a class or two of hers, and despite his gruff demeanor Christine had always gotten along well enough with him. She knew Hikaru Sulu as well, more from patching him up in the infirmary due to fencing injuries than from anything else, but he was a sweet guy with a real talent for flying, even if he was a bit green.

Although, Christine guessed they were all a bit green – herself included, even though the weeks spent in trauma had given her a kind of hardened edge. She had never been one to crack under pressure and she'd proved that she was more than capable in a tough situation. And not just a simulation either, but a real life emergency. And she'd done it all while dealing with her own personal grievances. The past weeks had probably prepared her better for life aboard a starship than any of the other nursing cadets, and even though the memories were tinged with pain, that knowledge gave her a kind of confidence boost; a kind of validation. She was ready for this.

More ready at least than their Captain had been – people were still talking about how Jim Kirk had managed to save the world and become the youngest Captain in Starfleet history all in the span of a week. Christine hadn't really known Jim Kirk at school. Of course she'd known of him, but they hadn't ever been formally introduced. Not that it mattered – Christine had been happily dating Roger anyways, and the young cadet was known for nothing if not his cavalier attitude, especially when it came to women.

He wasn't a bad man though; in fact, all evidence pointed to the contrary. He was terribly bright and courageous, and thought outside the box. Well, at least it seemed that way. Sure he'd always had some problems with authority - Christine had been in the hearing room when he'd been called up to answer for his actions in the Kobayashi Maru scenario – but hey, they all made mistakes sometimes. The important thing was learning from them, wasn't it?

Besides, it wasn't her job to judge the actions of her Captain. And it wasn't like she'd be serving on the bridge anyways. Her direct superior officer would be Dr. McCoy, not Jim Kirk.

Looking out her window now, Christine could see that they'd left earth's atmosphere and were swiftly on their way to arriving at the spacedock. She could see it looming in front of her, a huge complex floating in space. Suddenly Christine could feel butterflies fluttering in her stomach - she's never been one to let nerves get the best of her, but it's a bit different this time.

This time it feels like she's really leaving everything she's ever known behind and going off into the unknown totally alone, with only the clothes on her back and her own wits about her. Space is full of planets and people, but that doesn't change the fact that it still feels cold and lonely around her.

She took a deep breath, once in, and exhaled. She didn't even care if the other passengers looked at her funny, because who were those people anyways? Was it a crime for a girl to want to take a deep breath every once in a while? She smoothed down her cadets uniform and ran her fingers once through her hair, then fiddled with the ends a bit, making them so they flipped accordingly against the tops of her shoulders, framing her face.

The shuttle makes its way into the shuttle bay and slows, and around her Christine hears the slow hum of the power stop before the whole craft sinks the inch or so to the floor. There's a bit of a shake from the landing and then they're there, they've arrived. The 'remove seatbelt' sign blinks on and Christine knows that her already large eyes must be as wide as saucers.

Suddenly the doors hiss open and that same officer from before appears in the doorway. He nods his head at her.

"Nurse Chapel, we've arrived," he says. She wonders why he's speaking directly to her when there are other people on the shuttle too- oh, they'd already gotten off. Oops.

"Let me help you out," he continues, and offers her his hand. She doesn't need his help to get out thankyouverymuch, but that's not what she says.

"Oh, thank you," she answers with a small smile, and lets him wrap his much larger hand around her own, pulling her out of the shuttle.

"Your things have already been sent to the Enterprise," he says to her as she stands away from the shuttle, waiting for...well, Christine doesn't really know what. She's never been to the space dock before and has no idea how to get around the shuttle bay, let alone navigate her way to the Enterprise. She'd just assumed that somebody would be there to meet her when she arrived and take her to the ship. She turned around to speak to the Officer.

"Do you know if-oh." He's not there anymore. She looks around and spots him on the other side of the shuttle. He pokes his head up.

"Sorry – what was that?" he says, but he seems distracted.

"Oh, I was just wondering if someone was coming to take me to the ship, considering I don't know the...way," she asks again, her voice trailing off towards the end when she realizes that his attention has indeed strayed elsewhere, to three female cadets exiting another shuttle. She purses her lips and tries to keep the aggravation below the surface.

"...hello?" she asks again, waving her hand a bit for his attention.

"Oh!" he says, snapping back. "Sorry about that. Uh, no, I don't think so. We're still too short staffed. You'll have to find your way yourself, I guess," he finishes.

"...Oh, right, then," she parrots back, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. "Do you think you could, ah – show me the way there?" she asks hopefully, remembering his attentiveness earlier.

"Sorry Nurse Chapel," he says, his eyes trained on the other female cadets (who were all quite well endowed, you could say). "I've got some uh...shifts to do." He starts walking off, not even realizing that his last sentence made no sense. Christine's face morphs into an expression somewhere between disbelief and slight disgust as he saunters over to the other cadets, lopes an arm around each of their waists, and leaves.

He totally just left her standing there!

Men, she thinks, and then realizes that she's been effectively stranded. That, obviously, is not good. She doesn't have the luxury of time, and the ship is due to leave soon. Like, fifteen minutes soon, or so says her PADD. She tries accessing the layout of the space dock through her PADD, but because her clearance level hasn't been updated she can't get through.

So she stands there for a minute, not...nervous, per se, but....fidgety. Yeah, that's the word for it. She's about to leave when a voice stops her from behind.

"Are you lost?"

Christine turns around and sees James Kirk standing there in all his glory - just because she'd never met him doesn't mean she didn't know what he looked like. He's got a sort of wry expression on his face like he knows for sure she doesn't have a clue where she's going, and that he's going to be the one to help her out. Christine also notices (in the back of her mind, of course) that James Kirk is pretty much ridiculously attractive.

"Oh – well...yes, I, uh, I guess I am," she gets out, smiling sort of apologetically and slightly unsure as to how she's supposed to act with this guy – Captain. With her Captain.

"Hey," he says jovially and with a slight drawl, "happens to the best of us. Where're you headed to? I'll take you."

She laughs a little, and her long bang falls into one eye so she pushes it away. "I think I'm headed to the same place as you. Enterprise?"

His smile widens and wow, this guy is really, really good looking. "You don't say," he starts out, rocking back a bit on his heels like he's not used to standing still for so long. "Part of my crew, huh?"

Christine nods her head, and he holds out his hand. "Jim Kirk," he offers. She extends her hand and shakes his firmly, just like she was taught, feeling the steady warmth of his palm against her own.

"Chapel," she says. "Christine Chapel. I'm a Nurse."

"I'm a Captain," he says almost automatically, and Christine lets out one short, breathy laugh as he comes to realize how stupid that sounded. He laughs too. "Yeah...I guess you knew that, huh," he says, bringing one arm up to scratch at the back of his neck. His bicep protrudes as a massive rounded bulge as he does so, and at the same time his shirt rides up a little, exposing the slightest glimpse of pale, flat stomach. Christine swears to god this boy is like THE most attractive thing she's ever seen. It's kind of distracting in like, a really huge way.

He starts walking backwards out of the hangar and she follows. Christine is sort of afraid of long awkward silences so she speaks first. "So are you nervous?" she asks, her hands folded in front of her as she keeps up with Kirks graceful, loping stride. He looks at her like he wasn't expecting the question, squinching his nose a little and making the freckles there stand out against his pale skin.

"Nervous?" he repeats, grinning, "why would I be nervous? Especially when I know you're waiting for me in sickbay if something goes wrong?" Oh, Christine thinks to herself as she (swear to god) blushes. So this is how he got the girls. That thought sets off a chain reaction in her brain, and something like betrayal flares up behind her eyelids. It sounds like 'what are you doing flirting with this guy you don't even know when you've got mourning to do, girlie?' She swallows and makes a note to temper her reactions.

"Well, hopefully that won't be too often, Captain," she says, mentally giving herself a high five when her voice comes out sweet, soft and perfectly level just as it always sounds.

"Jim," he offers, and she shoots him a small glance out of the corner of her eye, which he returns with an innocent looking smile. "You can call me Jim – I don't mind."

She nods, and he looks expectant like he's waiting for her to say his name. They reach a lift and Jim moves to the side to let her step in first. She can feel his eyes on her as she passes him.

"I think I'll stick with Captain for now," she offers sweetly, and he smiles at her with one eyebrow raised as if to say oh really, then? And then the doors slide closed.

In the lift Christine stands perfectly straight, her hands clasped in front of her, legs together. She looks prim and proper and professional. Kirk, on the other hand, leans his elbows back against the railing and lounges against the wall, the very picture of relaxation. Out of the corner of her eye she can see the outline of his broad shoulders and the slim taper of his hips, and she knows he's looking at her. She chances another glance at him and sure enough he's looking straight at her, with that damnable grin still painted on his face. He sees that she's looking at him and he licks his lips a little. She turns her eyes back to the doors before he can see them widen. Why was this lift ride so long???? Suddenly he speaks.

"Ever been on a starship before, Nurse Chapel?" he asks, and wow, she really doesn't want to get into the whole reason why not. But he's the Captain, so what's she gonna do?

"Nope," she replies pleasantly. "This is my first time," she says succinctly. He grins a bit wider and in the back of her mind she knows she's said something...

"Well, I'm glad I was able to make your first time a smoother ride," he says, his voice low and smooth and his eyes actually twinkling. Well then, Christine thinks to herself. He's one of those. She knows how to handle boys like that. She knows he's waiting for a response – indignation, a blush, a stutter, a flirtation, anything, so she just smiles a sweet little smile at him and then looks back to the doors. She can still see him though, reflected in the mirror-like material of the doors. His eyebrows have furrowed and he's looking at her like she's a particularly enticing puzzle he hasn't yet solved. Thankfully the doors swish open just then and Christine steps out, with the Captain following behind her. He catches up to her in a few strides though.

"You know where we are, right?" he asks, this time without any kind of innuendo, and Christine realizes that no, she doesn't know. She looks to her left and right and sees that their environment has totally changed – she's now standing in a brightly lit white hallway, with smooth shiny walls and smooth shiny floors. It's very ergonomic and beautiful.

"Welcome to the Enterprise," he says, his smile soft and his tone proud.

"We-" Christine begins, and Kirk answers her question before she needs to ask it.

"The lift takes us straight into the ship. Come on, I'll take you to medical. Bones'll be there, he's probably looking for you now. Must think I've stolen you," he adds, grinning at her out of the corner of his eye.

Well, that was fast. Suddenly they're moving again and there's no time to process the fact that she is ON a STARSHIP right now, for the first time EVER. Her mind snags on something though - the name he mentioned is unfamiliar to her. "Sorry Captain," she begins, hurrying just a bit to meet his quickened pace, "uh, Bones? I don't think I know anyone by that name." He lets out a sharp bark of laughter.

"Bones – it's just a nickname. You know Leonard McCoy, don't you?" Oh.

"Oh, yes, of course I do." They must be close to sickbay because she can smell the disinfectant in the air, and maybe it's sad but it calms her down a little. It smells something like home, almost, and courage.

They walk for only a few seconds more and suddenly they're there, with sickbay in full view in front of her, and cadets everywhere. She can see Dr. McCoy standing about a head taller than most of the cadets, and she can hear him shouting something above the din of noise – and they aren't even in the room yet. That's a pretty useful skill, Christine admits to herself. They're right at the doors and Christine gets ready to thank the Captain and walk in when he turns around right in front of her, and extends one arm across the entranceway, his hand on the other side of the door so she can't get through.

She can't help the confusion from showing on her face and he grins. A brief Does this guy ever stop grinning? Floats through her head before he leans closer to her and speaks, lowly and wryly.

"Well, here you are, safe and sound," he says, and his voice is smooth like nothing else. Good lord, she did not sign up for this.

"Looks like," she answers back. "Thank you for helping me," she adds. "I wouldn't have made it on time without you, Captain." And it's true – she wouldn't have. A nice, innocent thank you. Let's see him take that and spin it, she thinks to herself. But he goes in a different direction.

"And what did I say about calling me Captain?" he asks, moving just a little bit closer to her. Christine isn't intimidated though – he means no harm and she doesn't move back. Instead she purses her lips a little and raises an eyebrow good naturedly.

"You said to call you-"

"Jim!" A voice interrupts suddenly, and it's Dr. McCoy who's moved towards them. "Goddamit Jim, would you keep it in your pants long enough for us to get off the damn ground?" he snarls out, his accent thick and his frown heavy. "And for chrissakes stay the hell away from my nurses! I've got too few of 'em to let you go around infectin' 'em with whatever communicable diseases you've picked up lately."

That sounds an awful lot like insubordination to Christine, but Kirk just puts a hand to his chest in mock hurt. "Ouch, Bones," he says. "You know, the lack of respect I get from all of you is troublesome, really. I mean it, too. Not even Spock talks to me like tha-"

McCoy rolls his eyes in the middle of Jim's melodrama and cuts him off. "Yeah, yeah, your life's a real tragedy. Now get outta my sickbay and get us off the ground – isn't that what they're payin' you for?"

Jim laughs at how easily he can exasperate McCoy and turns around, but before he leaves he throws a "see you around, Chapel!" over his shoulder at her, accompanied by a wink. And just like that he's gone, and Christine finds herself standing alone in the doorway with Dr. McCoy.

"Chapel?" he says gruffly. "Christine Chapel?"

"Yessir," she responds.

"Good – I've been waitin' for your transfer," he says, and moves to walk back into the ward. "This sickbay's in a sorry state of affairs, and most of these cadets don't have a damn clue what they're doing." Christine suspects that's an exaggeration, but hey. Who is she to judge? "You've been assigned a room according to your station, and you'll find your things and your uniform inside. You oughta go there now and get changed. Then I want you back here, ready to lead these cadets through standard procedures. By next week you're gonna know this sickbay like the back of your hand, and there's no time like the present." Christine stares sort of dumbly at him – why is she leading the cadets? And assigned according to her station?

"Somethin' I said not registerin' with you, Chapel?" McCoy asks, the words flying out quickly and gruffly.

"Uh – no sir, it's just, uh, why am I leading the cadets? Shouldn't the head Nurse be the one doing that?" McCoy looks at her like she's got a case of Andorian madness.

"You are the head Nurse, Chapel," he says. "Didn't you read your forms?" Well, yes, obviously she read them.

"Yes, I did, sir, and they didn't say anything about head nurse. I've got them here on my PADD, you can see if you'd like." McCoy rolls his eyes.

"Damn beaurocratic nonsense," he mutters. "One mistake and the whole damn system goes up in flames. Sometimes you gotta do things the old fashioned way, like tellin' people." He goes on.

"You're the most qualified Nurse we've got aboard this ship Chapel, and that makes you head Nurse. You've got field training and the best record outta all the nurses, and I'm expectin' you to live up to all that praise, got it? This aint a luxury liner, it's a goddamn starship! So are you ready to move it, or are you just gonna stand there gapin' at me like you're catchin' flies?"

Christine closed her mouth immediately. "No, sir. I mean, Yes, I'm ready, thank you."

"Don't thank me Chapel, you're the one who did the work." Suddenly there's a ruckus from the other end of the ward, and McCoy frowns deeply. Someone knocked over a tray of hypospray's onto the floor, dislodging the medicine chambers and sending them rolling in every direction. "For chrissakes, Stevenson!" McCoy yells. "This isn't amateur hour boy, you better fix up those hypos before I get over there or you're not gonna like what happens next!" Stevenson, apparently, immediately gets on the floor and begins picking up the chambers.

McCoy shakes his head. "Like a circus in here," he mutters before turning back to Christine. "Your room information and pass codes should be in your PADD, and you've got twenty minutes to get settled before I want you back in here doing rounds. Understood?"

Any worry of downtime out the window, Christine answers right away. "Yessir, understood."

"Well, hop to it, then," he says, before walking towards Stevenson. So she does.

Sure enough the information is in her PADD, and she makes it to her room quickly. Her quarters are actually a lot nicer than she expected- not that she'd expected something shoddy, but she has her own room as opposed to a double, and it's large, with a desk and drawers and a little couch sitting area plus her bed, which has her bags on top of it. It's not extravagant by any means, but she can see herself living there comfortably.

She grabbed the uniform hanging on the back of the door and slipped it on, noting that it fit well and looked nice on her. The length of the uniform leaves a little bit to be desired, but Christine never was the kind of girl to be insecure about her body. Well – except when she was on her period. And when she forgot to work out. But still.

Lastly she picked up the Starfleet pin and attached it, and looked once more at herself in the mirror.

This was it.

Here she was. Christine Chapel, head nurse of the USS Enterprise.

She realizes that since she's gotten to the space dock, she hasn't once thought of Roger or her father or her friends, and she smiles at her reflection. It's just a small upturn to the corner of her lips, but it feels real for a change, and it feels like a beginning instead of an ending.

She walks out of her room and back to sickbay, making it just in time to see a group of cadets come together, waiting for instruction.

"Hello," she says brightly, walking up to the group. "I'm Christine Chapel, your head Nurse. If you'll all follow me, I'm going to walk you through some of the procedures...."

~fin.

thanks for reading!

-jb