Author's Notes:
28/01/07: I've revamped and replaced the contents of this chapter.

Chapter One: A Fresh Start

The smoke that lazily twisted and wound its way through the air swirled maniacally for a moment as the doors opened, parting with the breeze brought in from the outside world. Kirk cleared his throat as he entered, feeling the tar choke his lungs. Evolved Human sensibility, he thought ironically, and we still like to poison ourselves in the name of having a good time. He paused, glancing around. It was a modern bar, with twentieth century decor - dark wood finish, dimly lit atmosphere, haphazardly arranged seating. Even the alcohol was served by an old fashioned pull. It was certainly atmospheric - he could understand why McCoy had chosen this location.

Now, if only he could find him.

A slim arm slid through his and hugged it tightly. He looked down to see the petite form of Uhura at his side. Her grin was sultry and, although he wasn't sure if she ever planned that smile, every time she used it men would attempt to walk on water for her. "This way, Jim," she said, tugging him lightly to lead him into the crowd.

"Were you waiting in ambush?" he followed without complaint.

Her rich laugh resounded through the room. "Something like that. Did you find that mountain with your name on it?"

Kirk sighed. "I got within sight of it then received a communiqué saying that my nephew had arrived home, so I had to go mingle for a few weeks," he made a face, then smiled wryly. "Next time I go mountain climbing, remind me not to take my communicator."

"How is Peter?" Uhura smirked at his long-suffering expression. She wasn't fooled for an instant.

"Doing fine, all things considered. His grades are picking up again. He's decided to go into medicine," he nudged her conspiratorially. "Speaking of achievements. Congratulations on yours."

A smile of pure joy spread across the face of the Enterprise's newest Lieutenant Commander. Then she nudged him back. "Hush, it's not official yet. The others don't know. You're not supposed to know either."

The Captain looked amused. "Neither are you," he pointed out, although he wasn't really surprised. Her information network was even more impressive than his was. Between the pair of them, they were capable of ferreting out almost any secret within Starfleet when they put their minds to it.

And he had to hand it to her: the expression of shock that spread across her beautiful features looked absolutely genuine. "Then, Captain, you shouldn't have told me," she chastised in an impressively indignant tone.

Kirk just laughed, part of him wondering if he should be taking as much pleasure in her rank gain as he was. Highly intelligent and a full head of steam, the woman was a delight to work with - and a challenge. As a Lieutenant Commander, he was certain she would spend the next five-year mission keeping him on his toes. He grinned at the thought. At least he wouldn't be alone in his misery - she had always given the First Officer a run for his money as well.

"Bones' vacation hasn't gone as planned either," she smiled wryly at his amusement but swept onwards, ensuring the subject was firmly changed. She wasn't a particularly modest woman but neither did she belabour her successes more than she was supposed to.

Especially when she wasn't yet supposed to know about them.

"What happened?" For a moment, Kirk was concerned, but the amused look Uhura shot him allayed his fears.

"Chris was delayed on Vulcan; the Science Academy doesn't seem to want to let her go. She arrives on Earth next week. Bones has barely had any contact with her, and her last message said she was awaiting assignment to her new posting."

"What is her new posting?"

"I don't know. She said she was headed to Starfleet to discuss that, but I think Starfleet want her to take up a permanent position on Vulcan. M'Benga has already gone out there, and they want him to have a Human colleague. The chances are it's going to be Chris. Bones has been like a bull with a sore head. She has so many reviews and a new position to arrange. When she reaches Earth, we'll only have two weeks before the Enterprise ships out. Bones is beginning to realise he won't get to see her in person," she smiled wistfully. "I would have liked to meet up with her too. She was Valedictorian, you know."

"She was?" Kirk struggled to picture his calm, efficient, former Head Nurse as a Valedictorian M.D. and a scientist held in high demand on Vulcan. It was hard but, at the same time, unsurprising. He grinned to himself at his completely illogical reaction. "Good for her!"

Uhura just grinned and gestured him to a spare seat, flopping down in her seat between Scott and Chekov. McCoy waved Kirk over just as Sulu arrived with a tray full of drinks and a huge grin.

"Beer for me, bourbon for the good doctor, cocktail for the lovely Nyota," he winked at Uhura. "And a good old fashioned pint for the Captain," Sulu laid the drinks out as Kirk pulled up a chair. The Captain blinked at the amount of shorts left on the tray that Sulu promptly placed between Scott and Chekov, who were sizing each other up like gladiators.

"They aren't?" Kirk muttered to McCoy as the pair separated out the vodkas from the scotch.

"Matter of national pride," McCoy said gravely and knocked back his bourbon. "They got any more of this stuff?" he cleared his throat.

"How are you holding up, Bones?"

"One! Two! Three!" Sulu yelled, and Scott and Chekov knocked back their drinks.

Kirk couldn't help noticing that they already looked unsteady and he wondered how long this competition had been in progress. McCoy grunted and his attention returned to the physician. "Goddamn bureaucratic tape," the doctor growled. "I've lost my damn ACMO, Jim, and Starfleet had the gall to tell me yesterday! I'm never going to get a replacement by the time we leave. They're the same idiots who have blown any chance I had of seeing Chris before we leave!"

"Didn't she take the post you offered?"

"Not the damn point. Those blasted pointy-eared hobgoblins want her for themselves, and that's a better position than a science posting on the Enterprise."

A sudden flashback to a distant memory suddenly made Kirk chuckle. "I'm not so sure, Bones."

McCoy glanced at Kirk, for a moment uncomprehending.

"Your favourite Vulcan wouldn't be in Starfleet if that was true." Kirk winked at him.

McCoy stabbed a finger at him. "And that's another thing, Jim! Where the hell has Spock been for the past three months? Have you seen him?"

Kirk frowned. "I haven't seen much of him, I have to admit. He's spent most of his time attending science seminars at Starfleet."

"Yeah, that's the only place I've been running into him too. Did he go to the Vulcan Embassy?"

"I don't know, Bones."

McCoy muttered something under his breath. "I need another drink," he growled and, hauling himself out of his seat, he headed off to the bar.

There was a crash at the end of the table as Chekov slowly crumpled. Scott gave Sulu and Uhura a smug grin. "Aye, Cap'in," he slurred, focusing on Kirk for a moment, then slowly slumped down next to Chekov.

Christine Chapel, M.D.

Even now, four months after she had officially graduated, seeing her name written like that still made her grin. She clambered off the shuttle with a wave to the driver and headed into Starfleet headquarters. She had only been on Earth for a day but it already felt like an eternity. There was so much she wanted to get done now she was home and there just didn't seem to be enough time - not if she wanted to take up McCoy on his offer of a medical position back on board the Enterprise.

She swallowed nervously as she hurried through the corridors. She had asked Starfleet if she could accept the posting without the command crew being any the wiser, so she could surprise them. It was a whimsical request, and had therefore been initially frowned on. If not for Admiral Nogura, it probably would have been denied. She wasn't certain why Nogura had agreed, but he had insisted that regulations be followed. She would be allowed to surprise her CMO and Captain but the First Officer would be required to know of the crew listings in advance.

Chapel slid onto a bench beside a drinks dispenser and took a deep breath, remembering how hard she had fought to keep her countenance free of reaction when the Admiral had informed her. She had agreed, of course, but she couldn't help thinking that Spock would be the last person to approve her return to the Enterprise.

She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. She had worked hard to forget that the psi 2000 virus, Plutonius and the infamous soup incident had ever happened - she would be damned before she allowed herself to lose her self-control now because of those memories; because of the nervousness that was responsible for the evocation of those memories. She took another deep breath, determined to consign the past to where it belonged, knowing that she wouldn't be obsessing so much about the mistakes of her past career if she didn't care so much about the nature of her future career. Only when she had composed herself, did she rise to complete her journey to Admiral Nogura's office.

She couldn't see any logical reason why the Vulcan would deny her request to return to the Enterprise. She had gained rank, she was an M.D., she had a bioresearch related Ph.D., she had graduated Valedictorian. And, heck, the Vulcan Science Academy loved her. She grinned to herself at the thought of any of the Vulcans she had interacted with 'loving' her; but they had commended her logic, methodology and organisational skills, and complements on Vulcan didn't get better than that. Especially for a Human.

But still, she did have a lingering fear that the last thing Spock would want was to be reminded of the same events she herself had worked so hard to forget. She gritted her teeth. The Enterprise was the ship to be on right now. It was the place to be for scientific research, cultural exposure and Starfleet fieldtime. She was fed up of putting her life on hold for other people and she wasn't going to turn down the chance to stretch and challenge her abilities just because of a stupid attachment she couldn't control. Besides, it wasn't like Spock could really deny her return on the grounds of her unfortunate emotions. Even Humans would find such a rejection illogical.

It was therefore with complete confidence that she strode up to Nogura's office and rapped on the door. There was no logical reason to deny her request. She was sure of it.

The secretary buzzed her in and asked her to wait for Nogura to call her, then announced over the comm that Dr. Chapel was waiting for him. Chapel felt a warm glow spread through her at being called "Doctor" and wondered if this feeling of accomplishment would ever wear off. She rose as the secretary nodded for her to go in, knocked the door from force of habit, then stepped into his office.

The first thing she noticed was that the Admiral was not alone. Commander Spock was present was well. The second thing she noticed, as they both turned to face her, was how frozen their faces were. Expressionless. Nogura could have been a Vulcan himself, for all the emotion he currently displayed. Her heart sank into her boots. There was no pleasure, no joy, no anticipation of good news, and she knew then that Spock had found a reason to deny her the posting. She swallowed and came to a stop. "Admiral. Commander." Her voice was calm. She was not going to let them - him - see an embarrassing emotional display.

Nogura indicated to the seats, and Chapel quietly took one. A heartbeat later, Spock sat down. Nogura remained standing and Chapel felt the nerves rustling in her stomach again.

"Your qualifications are impressive, Doctor Chapel," Nogura said gravely. Chapel focused on him immediately. Spock was watching her with a closed expression but she ignored him, concentrating on the ranking officer in the room. "As are your achievements in the four months since graduating. It's a daunting task to attempt to be received as an academic equal by Vulcan scientists but I hear you managed that quite successfully, if what the Vulcan Ambassador has been telling me is accurate. And I have no doubt that it is." Nogura suddenly almost smiled. "In fact, he spoke of your many qualities quite enthusiastically."

Chapel stared at Nogura and out of the corner of her eye saw one of Spock's eyebrows rise. Nogura must have seen it too, because he flicked an amused glance in the Vulcan's direction. Despite the 'but' she was dreading, and which she knew was coming, she had to fight off a grin at the thought of Sarek being 'enthusiastic' about anything. Judging by Spock's reaction, she wasn't alone in her disbelief.

"I am honoured they received me so well, Admiral," she replied carefully, keeping her voice neutral. "It has been a long time since I have lived on Vulcan."

Nogura nodded. "Yes, I noticed in your personnel files that you spent a few years on Vulcan as a child." Suddenly he was all business again. "On the recommendation of the First Officer of the U.S.S. Enterprise, I am afraid I will have to decline your application to become the Enterprise's xenologist."

For a moment she could feel bile rising in the back of her throat. The back of her eyes began to itch with a warm sensation. Dammit! She was not going to cry! Not now! She lifted her head defiantly, swallowing her emotions with the silent promise to indulge later. "May I ask why, sir?"

Nogura looked at Spock gravely, who turned to face her directly, dark eyes meeting her blue ones calmly. "Doctor M'Benga has accepted a research position in the Vulcan Science Academy. I am aware you were offered a chance to join him and that you turned it down to pursue a position on the Enterprise."

He paused, studying her. She didn't move, nor did she speak, and her gaze remained locked on him, waiting.

"8.3 days ago it became obvious that the position of Assistant Chief Medical Officer aboard the U.S.S. Enterprise would not be filled by the time we leave space dock on our next mission. Upon reviewing your application 3.2 days ago, it was concluded the logical solution was to combine the two positions if there was an applicant so qualified. The position you applied for no longer exists but the position of Assistant Chief Medical Officer has yet to be claimed."

He fell silent and watched her closely.

Chapel swallowed, then blinked once. Had Spock just asked her to become McCoy's ACMO? She stared at him. His gaze was unwavering and unreadable. She looked at Nogura, who was grinning broadly at her, and suddenly she realised why they had looked so grim when she had entered. Nogura had known this was going to happen and had been trying not to give anything away in his expression.

She turned back to Spock. "So ... ACMO, and presumably in charge of any xenological research required in Life Sciences?"

Spock nodded once. "With the departure of Doctor M'Benga, the crew will be lacking a doctor with extensive research knowledge on different sentient life forms and their anatomies."

"I would in effect be replacing him completely then?"

"Yes."

"Then I accept."

Spock continued to stare at her for a few moments longer. There was still no readable change in his countenance but suddenly she knew she had surprised him in some fashion. She turned back to Nogura. "Well, if it's acceptable to the First Officer, the Enterprise has a new ACMO."

Nogura smiled and looked at Spock, who nodded. "Commander Spock is also willing to refrain from informing the Chief Medical Officer and the Captain, if that is still your desire."

"Yes it is," she glanced at Spock, suddenly suspicious. Was it possible...?

"Very well. Thank you for your time, Doctor. You have 12 days before the Enterprise leaves Earth for her next mission. Use your time wisely."

Chapel rose, acknowledging the dismissal. "Admiral. Commander," she left the room quickly.

Once outside she sagged against the wall and closed her eyes. "YES!" she exclaimed suddenly, as the euphoria finally bubbled up to the surface and she started to laugh. "Oh God, can't you just see the looks on their faces when they find out?" She froze as her earlier suspicion suddenly crystallised into a certainty. "Why that sneaky, little Vulcan ...!"

"If you are referring to the apparent ability of Vulcans to approach Humans without detection, I postulate the theory that Humans are less observant than they are physiologically capable of being," a familiar, deep voice commented next to her.

She opened her eyes and pushed away from the wall to face Spock. "Commander."

"Doctor."

His dark eyes were unreadable as he contemplated her in the silence that followed.

"You did that deliberately, didn't you?" Chapel spoke up first. "Making me think I'd been refused assignment to the Enterprise."

"Humans are fascinated with the concept of revealing to their acquaintances news they have previously kept secret. According to the hypothesis that collecting firsthand data might yield comprehensive conclusions, I am endeavouring to observe, and understand, this most illogical phenomenon."

She couldn't stop herself from grinning. "And are the conclusions comprehensive?"

"I will require a repetition of the experiment to corroborate my findings." And to her utter shock, she noticed the faintest hint of a twinkle touch his eyes.

She cleared her throat. "Well, give me 12 days, and I'm sure we can get you the repetition you're after."

"Indeed, Doctor. The first staff briefing is at 0700 hours in 12.7 days. Perhaps then would be a logical time to complete this experiment."

She stared at him for a moment, then smiled. "That'll work for me, Mr. Spock. Is it possible to move my belongings to the Enterprise now?"

"Yes. I have returned to the Enterprise myself. There are still three maintenance crews aboard but the majority of the work is now complete and we will not interfere with their duties."

"Great!" She turned, then stopped and looked at him. "Um... I'll need to get my stuff together," she looked slightly sheepish. "I didn't want to hedge my bets by packing before the meeting."

One eyebrow rose, apparently at the phrase 'hedge my bets'. "Will you require assistance?"

She flushed at the thought of letting anyone else see her rooms - she might be an organised scientist but she could be a rather messy housekeeper at times, especially when running late in the morning. "No I'm fine, sir. But thank you for offering."

He nodded once. "Very well, Doctor. I will meet you aboard the Enterprise when you are ready," and, turning quickly, he strode off down the corridor.

To say there was silence would be accurate. The gentle hum of the engines and the soft vibration of the floor that had accompanied his meditations for five years were absent. It was a subtle omission that was profoundly noticeable. Spock had spent much of his shore leave alone. When not attending seminars, he had visited the great desert of Australia and walked into its hot wilderness, the fiery red sands and burning heat being the one place on Earth that truly reminded him of Vulcan. There he had sank into meditation, trying to achieve that which had eluded him for so long.

For the most part, he had failed and once more he had reviewed carefully the events that had occurred during their brief contact with Starbase 2 and the Potemkin in case there was anything he had missed. But he had told Captain Kirk the truth. Nothing of note had happened aside from the departure of several crewmembers that had jumped ship with the intention of returning to Earth. One of those individuals had been the former Head Nurse who had an M.D. to complete. He had even considered the possibility the experiments in biolab 2 had caused some kind of reaction but eventually ruled that out. All precautions had been taken and there was nothing involved in those experiments harmful to either Vulcans or Humans.

He had not visited the Vulcan Healers.

He awoke slowly out of his meditation and noted the time he had been under. 2.5 hours exactly, flawlessly successful. He had regained his peace of mind and centre of balance several days ago, the timing of which had been so obvious he was forced to acknowledge, albeit with difficulty, the truth of his distress during the end of the first tour. It was good to be able to centre himself and once more find peace in meditation but he knew the price of his new self-knowledge would be high.

"Williams to Commander Spock."

Spock rose swiftly and touched his comm. "Spock here."

"Sir, there's a Doctor Chapel requesting permission to beam up."

"Understood, Lieutenant. Prepare to beam her aboard. I will meet her in the transporter room."

It didn't take him long to change from his robes into his uniform and locate Transporter Room 2 but, by the time he arrived, Chapel was on board.

The technician looked at Spock as he arrived. "I beamed her belongings to Cargo Bay 1."

Spock nodded and turned to look at Doctor Chapel. "Assistant Chief Medical Officer reporting for duty, sir," she said promptly.

He observed that she was trying very hard to fight back a grin and chose not to draw attention to her enthusiasm. "Welcome aboard, Doctor. Do you require a tour of the ship?"

She looked around the transporter room. "Yes! If the rest of the ship is anything like this room, then things have changed."

"Indeed." Spock turned towards the doors and she joined him promptly.

"I've got to admit I'm glad they let women wear trousers now if we want," Chapel muttered as they walked through the corridors. "The last uniform was definitely not practical."

She was aware of the glance that swept over her at that comment but the Vulcan's expression was restrained. She suddenly felt defensive, although she wasn't certain why. "Well, you've got to admit it was hardly a logical uniform."

A very tiny twinkle of amusement appeared briefly in his eyes and she quickly averted her eyes forward to hide her surprise. Twice in one day, she mused. It was not the stiff, excessively formal behaviour she had been expecting. "Agreed. However, I find it interesting that not all Starfleet personnel agree with your assessment."

She snorted. "The men, no doubt."

"And some women."

"Really? That surprises me. But then, I'm in the kind of job where that kind of uniform is extremely inconvenient."

Spock didn't answer that, instead leading her through some doors into a wide space. She blinked and looked around in astonishment. "This is the rec room?" she demanded, staring. "It's huge!"

"I believe Starfleet foresees an increasing need for starships to accommodate diplomatic envoys."

Chapel instantly thought back to the Babel conference and chuckled. "That must be the worst thing Captain Kirk could ever be told."

Spock was silent but there was an expression deep within his eyes that suggested he understood why she found that thought amusing. Her eyes narrowed. "Sickbay! Mr. Spock, what did the refit do to the medical facilities?!"

"I suspect that once you enter Sickbay, it will be impossible to convince you to depart. It would be logical to eat here and visit the medical facilities after dinner."

She made a face. "I can catch up on dinner later, Mr. Spock," she turned to leave the rec room and then stopped. "Which way?"

The Vulcan tilted his head slightly and placed his hands behind his back. Chapel suddenly realised he had no intention of telling her. She blinked, surprised. There wasn't anything unusual in his behaviour; she had seen him behave this way with Kirk, McCoy and Uhura; even with Scott, Sulu and Chekov. Between them, however, there had always been a certain tension. Nothing that prevented them from working well together professionally, but enough to ensure they never dealt with each other except as professionals. Not entirely sure how to handle this friendlier Spock, she decided to approach the situation as if she was dealing with McCoy. "You're going to be stubborn about this, aren't you?"

"Stubbornness is a Human characteristic, Doctor. I am merely being logical."

"Isn't this where I say 'in a pig's eye'?" she smiled as his eyebrow rose and moved across to the food slots. "So, what's the dish of the day?"

He joined her at the food slot. "If by that you are asking what the menu is, the choice is restricted until the crew is officially on board. There are a wide variety of soups to choose from, however."

"Hm." She put one hand on her hip and the other to her chin, absently tapping her lips with one slim finger, as she thought. She only became aware of what a sight she must be when she realised Spock was studying her silently, his features patiently expressionless. She cleared her throat. "Vegetable soup will be fine," she said. "And some Tarkelian tea. If they have any."

To her surprise he selected two vegetable soups, although for himself chose only water, and took them both over to a nearby table. Chapel raised both eyebrows and followed him, wryly observing that this politeness had to happen when they were alone. No-one would believe her if she mentioned it.

She slipped into a seat and sipped her tea. Neither of them spoke until their meal was more or less over. "I don't tend to think of you and soup at the same time," she commented eventually. She winced at the bluntness of her opening speech. She had spent the entire meal trying to work out how to approach the subject and, in the end, she had settled for bluntness - get it all in the open, out of the way, while they were still in space dock. Let the new tour begin on a clean slate. Underneath the table, she crossed her fingers. That was the plan, anyway.

He studied her silently. "I do not understand."

"The last time we interacted. Where soup was involved." She watched his expression close off as if a wall had slammed down behind his eyes and, suddenly, she felt as if she had been propelled back to the first mission and the personal tension that had haunted their interactions. She nodded and sat forward slightly. "Mr. Spock. I have some bad memories - well, best call them humiliating memories - of the last tour. It took me a long time to come to terms with those events but I'm glad I did. I will be honest, I expected you to deny my application to rejoin the Enterprise."

He contemplated her thoughtfully for a moment. "You have excellent qualifications. You have valuable starship experience and training. You are efficient, organised and would be an asset to any scientific team you worked with. It would have been illogical for me to refuse your request."

She smiled wanly. "I did tell myself that."

He tilted his head slightly, hearing the unfinished nature of her reply. "You believed your concerns were justified during our discussion with Admiral Nogura?"

"Yes."

"I apologise. It was not my intent to cause you distress."

She looked briefly surprised at the apology but before she could say anything he continued, his expression softening once more into what she had always regarded as his 'relaxed mode'. "But you must understand that ascribing emotional intent to a Vulcan is illogical."

"Yes, of course," she bit back a relieved smile. "Forgive my impudence, Commander. I meant no offence."

"There is none taken."

She nodded and took a deep breath. "Anyway. I never had the opportunity before. I want to apologise for causing discomfort and stress during the last tour and hope to put it firmly under the bridge."

"Many situations occurred during our last tour that were ... disquieting," his eyes stared intently into her own. "I do not blame you. It would not be logical for you to apologise for events over which you had no control."

"I know. But I'm Human. Sometimes we need to verbalise something for it to have meaning to us."

"Understood, Doctor."

She glanced around at the rec room. "You know, this place is a lot more comfortable than the last one," she grinned. "I can even see myself doing my homework in here."

"Doing your homework, Doctor?"

"Just a euphemism. I'm working on some translations in my free time. I can just imagine what Bones would call that, but I find it ... fun. And it gives me an insight into the culture concerned, too. Which is never a waste of time."

"Indeed."

She grinned wryly. "Although I may have to abandon my current hobby. Pre-reform Vulcan texts are a nightmare. I can't find a standard code for translating the Sonnets of Saal. I've seen at least three different translations - none agree. And that's just the translations into modern Vulcan."

His eyebrows rose. "You are attempting to translate them into Standard?"

"'Attempting' is optimistic. 'Failing' would be closer. I don't agree with the current translations. I think they're too ... logical," she realised Spock was staring at her and flushed. "That's a horrible thing for me to say, isn't it? But I can't help it - I see pre-Reform texts and I think 'emotional'."

"You are Human. You will interpret them as such," he observed. He regarded her thoughtfully for a moment, then added, "Perhaps I could put the text into its correct cultural perspective for you?"

She looked surprised. "If you think it would help me, I'd appreciate it."

He nodded and refrained from pointing out he would not have offered if he had not thought she would benefit from it. Instead he rose and picked up his plates. "Doctor, I believe it is time to show you to Sickbay and your quarters."

She grinned and rose with him. "A superlative suggestion, Mr. Spock," and she laughed when his eyebrows rose.

Kirk slumped in his seat, rubbing his head and feeling a tooth-jarring ache developing behind his eyes. The last of the crews and equipment were aboard, the maintenance teams had departed and it was unsociably early. Today was the big day. Today the next five year mission of the U.S.S. Enterprise officially began. It was 06:53, he was sat in the briefing room, and it was already a day he was regretting climbing out of bed for.

Chekov and Sulu were sitting in their seats looking quietly amused; Uhura was yawning sleepily and nursing a coffee while she juggled datapads; Spock had yet to arrive. The causes of his headache, however, were both sat opposite him. McCoy was slumped in his seat looking tired and irritable, his vivid blue eyes shooting electricity if anyone so much as addressed him. No-one dared mention Starfleet bureaucracy in his hearing currently. Scott sat next to him, back straight, hands gripping a technical manual tightly, face almost as red as his shirt. If McCoy was furious with his inability to find an ACMO, then the very suggestion that Starfleet had improved Engineering made Scott explosive.

Kirk groaned. Deciding Uhura had a good plan, he hauled himself out of his seat to grab himself a coffee.

"Aye, and it'll take a fair month to be fixing the engines with this much wrong!" Scott was rounding off to anyone who would listen, his accent thick with his distress. "Captain, they should have let me do this. Would have been better done!"

The doors opened to admit Spock. He strode directly to his seat, surrounded by an aura of placid, unruffled calm. There was no evidence of the anti-social super-Vulcan that had so frustrated them at the end of the last mission. Only when he sat down, did he notice how everyone had swung around to stare at him. One eyebrow rose sharply at this unexpected attention.

"Well, well, Starfleet's most mysterious disappearing act returns," McCoy drawled. "How was your shore leave, Spock?"

"Most illuminating, Doctor," Spock was noncommittal. He still wasn't certain how to handle his new self-awareness and therefore did not want to be interrogated too closely about the past few months.

Steel-blue eyes locked on him, studying him with laser-sharp precision as if trying to strip him bare of his Vulcan shields and see the truth beneath. Spock met that gaze calmly, steadily and resisted an illogical urge to squirm like a naughty schoolboy. The doctor grunted and turned to Kirk.

Kirk was also studying Spock appraisingly. "Good to have you back on board, Spock. It's a shame you couldn't join us for shore leave." He brought his coffee over to his seat and sat down. "I see our new Assistant Chief Medical Officer is late," he frowned.

McCoy twitched. "If it's not bad enough that the chief surgeon on a starship isn't allowed to choose his own damn staff, Starfleet has to choose one that can't even get out of bed in the morning. I'll bet his hands shake in operations and he can't tell his ass ... "

Kirk cleared his throat and McCoy trailed to a rambling halt, glaring at Spock who was watching him, one eyebrow slightly raised. "And you, Mr. I'm The Logical Choice To Decide Who The ACMO Will Be Despite Not Being A Doctor!" he stabbed a finger at the Vulcan whose eyebrow slowly started rising higher.

"Bones!" Kirk's head sank into his hands.

"Well, dammit Jim. I don't care if the First Officer deals with crew listings and assignments. He should have consulted with me on my own god damn staff!"

"What's the matter, Doctor McCoy? Afraid Commander Spock made an illogical decision?"

The rich alto from the doorway froze everyone. Even Spock, who knew she had entered the room, was momentarily stilled by the effect her voice had on them all. Fortunately, he was no longer the centre of attention as everyone had turned to stare at Doctor Chapel. "Chris?" Uhura said incredulously. Chapel glanced at her with a grin. "Congratulations, Commander," she responded in a deliberately off-hand manner. Uhura just stared at her.

"What in blue blazes are you doing on board, girl!" McCoy fairly shouted. "I thought you'd be half way to Vulcan by now!"

Her blue eyes took on a wide, innocent stare then she turned an imperial gaze on Kirk. "Assistant Chief Medical Officer reporting for duty, Captain. My apologies for not announcing myself sooner but I didn't want to interrupt my superior officer's assessment of my abilities."

Kirk's eyes widened slightly as he stared at her, too speechless to say anything.

She turned to face her boss and mentor, somehow managing not to crack even the faintest smile. "'My hands shake during operations and I can't find my ass ...'? Exactly what were you going to say next, Doct ... ?" she trailed off, the breath knocked out of her body as McCoy launched himself out of his seat and swept her up in a huge bear hug. As if his action was the release for everyone else, Chapel suddenly found herself surrounded, being hugged, thumped on the back and having her hand pumped until she thought her arm would drop off.

"Breathing room, people! Your friendly, neighbourhood ACMO needs oxygen!" she gasped eventually, unable to stop herself from grinning and frantically trying to wipe her eyes before anyone noticed the tears. McCoy cleared his throat suddenly, his own eyes looking suspiciously glassy. "What are you doing as my ACMO and why the devil didn't you tell me!" he demanded hoarsely.

"Well, I quite liked your original offer, and asked Starfleet to keep it quiet so I could surprise you," her tone was amused. "But Spock convinced me it would be more useful if I signed on as your ACMO instead. So here I am."

"Spock convinced you?" McCoy looked around for Spock. The Vulcan was the only one still sitting down. His fingers were steepled in front of his face and he was watching them all expressionlessly.

Chapel moved to sit down, glancing at Spock whose dark eyes had silently followed her across the room. "Experiment successfully concluded, Mr. Spock?"

"Indeed. The results are most satisfactory," the Vulcan mask dropped enough for them all to see his eyes twinkle.

Chapel grinned and looked at McCoy. Then she laughed. "Bones, you look a picture!"

McCoy glared from Chapel to Spock and back. Eventually his attention settled on Spock. "You did this deliberately!"

"It would be more accurate to say it was Doctor Chapel's idea. Because she understands better than I the illogical nature of Human behaviour, I saw no logical reason to dissuade her of her actions once I ascertained there was no danger to the ship or crew."

McCoy spluttered for a moment. "Did you just say you had fun at my expense?" he demanded incredulously.

"No, Doctor," Spock replied patiently, affecting his most haughty Vulcan demeanour. "If you believe Vulcans engage in 'fun' you have misunderstood my statement."

"I don't believe it!" McCoy muttered. "Damn green-blooded, walking computer goes all Human on us and then tries to pretend like it never happened!"

Spock straightened but before he could voice a rebuttal, Kirk finally found his voice and jumped in. "Gentlemen, please. We have a job to do," he moved back over to retake his seat and the others followed suit. But he was still smiling. Maybe today would turn out alright after all.

The stars stretched out across an endless midnight sea; the velvet black and silver curtain that draped the ship interspersed occasionally by a flash of orange or red, a deep rich blue or electric flash, and a rare flick of the tail from comets that seemed frozen in time. There was a sense of timelessness here, a sense that beginnings and endings did not matter, that all that existed and had ever existed was here, now, a memory preserved in the deepest silence of space.

Chapel snuggled into her favourite chair in front of the huge viewer. She was dressed in her most comfortable clothes, ones reserved solely for lounging around in. In her hand was a steaming mug of coffee; on the table in front of her, one bowl of fruit and one bowl of chocolate; and datapads surrounded her. She wasn't the only person in the rec room but most people here were quiet. Mellow strains of music drifted through the room as a group of ensigns, who had quickly formed a band, played soothing music that had been collected from a remarkable number of worlds and cultures. Conversation swirled lazily on the edge of hearing and Chapel was reminded of the quiet hush of activity on the edge of consciousness, as one drifted off to sleep in the warm sunshine a stone's throw from gently lapping water.

The doctor popped a piece of fruit into her mouth. It reminded her of an orange, although the natives of the planet it was endemic to would never have any words in their language for oranges. As she chewed, she stretched out one slim leg, wriggling her shoeless toes, grinning at the sensation of decadence she was feeling. The second mission was getting off to a slow start. They had been ordered to head out to check an unexplored system beyond the edges of the Vulcan frontiers. It was going to take them many weeks to make it, even at higher warp. Once out there, they would once more be in into the unknown, exploring new worlds and new civilisations and, yes, probably getting into all sorts of mischief knowing the crew of this ship as she did.

This time, she popped a piece of chocolate into her mouth and chewed slowly, closing her eyes in pleasure. There ought to be a law making it illegal for Federation worlds to ever run out of chocolate, she thought to herself, remembering the months of living on Vulcan, the deprivation she had felt from missing some of her favourite foods. Of course, all her favourite foods were far from nutritionally necessary and, as such, Vulcans didn't have time for them. If it hadn't been for Lady Amanda and her network of contacts, who had specialised for years in getting hold of secret pleasures Humans loved and Vulcans found illogical, she might have gone stark raving mad.

While on Vulcan, Chapel had come into contact with Amanda initially through her husband, who spent a lot of time lecturing in the Science Academy. Amanda had visited the Institute often to help the non-Vulcans come to grips with the Vulcan language and customs. During those visits, Chapel had found it a welcome relief to be able to relax and speak freely with another Human, another woman, without the pressure of Vulcan decorum heaped on her shoulders. She'd had a feeling that very reason was why Amanda enjoyed volunteering there so much. It gave her a chance to relax as well.

She wriggled her toes again and snuggled further into the chair. The first few days had been eventful with everyone being brought up to speed on what was required of them; becoming familiar with the ship, their commanding officers, and their department structures. The ship had encountered no other vessels but the crew was too busy settling into a routine to become bored.

At the end of the week, the rec room had hosted a huge party for everyone to mingle with other departments and extend their contact with the rest of the crew. The comm had been hijacked by a carefully chosen music selection and, with one notable exception, the commanding officers and department heads had all worn name tags. Spock had pointed out that as the only Vulcan on board, he could not possibly be mistaken as anyone other than who he was, and that wearing a name tag was therefore superfluous. He had spent most of the party standing stiffly alongside the smiling Captain Kirk, his most forbidding Vulcan mask firmly in place. Those from the first mission regaled the new recruits with stories about the command crew; some accurate, some exaggerated and some designed to tease. Many of the stories surrounded the relationship of the Big Three, as they were nicknamed, and most of the new recruits were already terrified of the alien First Officer.

The party had also turned into something of a celebration after Sulu got his hands on the comm to announce the fact the Communications Officer had gained the rank of Lieutenant Commander, and that Doctor Chapel and Mr. Chekov had both gained Lieutenant rank as well as new positions of ACMO and Security Officer. That had set the tone for three more rank gain announcements, several surprise birthday calls, and even a wedding anniversary for two bashful ensigns assigned to Security and Engineering. To the cheers of his department, Scott had yelled out that Engineering would hold a private party for them, which had prompted Chekov to retort that Scotsmen didn't know how to party, and he'd have Security show them how to really let their hair down, Russian style. As a result, there was now some good-natured rivalry developing between Security and Engineering.

During the two weeks prior to the Enterprise's departure, Chapel and Spock had fallen into an easy routine of meeting for dinner in the rec room, which usually resulted in debates regarding recent scientific theories or the translations of Saal's sonnets. She couldn't remember how this had started, or who had first suggested the idea, and she was surprised by how comfortable the situation now felt considering their awkwardness during the first mission. Neither of them had suggested ending the routine when the Enterprise left Earth. As a result, their behaviour had initially been the talk of the old crew, who had expected many things from this new mission but not that the First Officer and former Head Nurse had anything remotely in common.

"Well look at you, lounging around like a cat with the cream!"

Chapel looked up sharply as the sunny voice pierced her thoughts and grinned as Uhura sank into a seat near her. "Hi, Nyota. Shift ended?"

"Yeah, not before time too," Uhura stretched out and stole some chocolate with a questioning look that made Chapel laugh. "So, Doc, what were you thinking so hard about when I turned up?" She leaned forward, grinning like a cat. "Penny for your thoughts, or are they dirty coins?"

"Nyota Uhura! I'll have you know my thoughts are completely pure!"

"Pure as the driven snow, I'll bet!" Uhura laughed as Sulu and Chekov joined them with drinks for four people. Chapel put her coffee down and eyed the fourth drink. "Expecting someone else?"

"Yeah, Scotty'll be along in the minute, once he's finished arguing with Spock about the engines," Sulu chuckled.

"Now, Hikaru," Chekov reproved. "You know what Commander Spock said. Vulcans--"

" --do not argue, they debate," chorused the other three immediately.

Chapel laughed and waved as McCoy and Kirk walked in. The doctor stalked over to them and threw himself into a seat, glaring at his ACMO. "What?!" she demanded when he continued to glare in silence. Kirk was trying to hide a grin as he purloined the chess set and brought it over.

"You, missy, have been in my office again!"

"Really, Bones, you need to get out more. What would I possibly want with your office?"

He glared at her. "Don't give me that Little Miss Innocent look either, young lady! I can't find a single goddamn report. I know you've been tidying my room again. If you think being my ACMO means you can reorganise my Sickbay whenever you feel like it, then you obviously don't have enough work to do!"

She pulled the most tragic expression she could manage while grinning. "Why, Doctor! You'll work me to the bone. Captain Kirk, are you going to let your senior surgeon abuse his staff in such a callous fashion?!"

Kirk laughed as he finished setting up the chess pieces. "Oh no. If you really need a mediator, I'm sure the Science Officer will be delighted to lecture Medical on the pros and cons of good administrative practice," he sat back with a grin and looked at them.

She grinned. "Old times sake, Bones. I swear you could lose a cat in your office and not know where it's gone."

McCoy scowled. "I always know exactly where my things are. It's only when housekeeping turns up that everything gets lost," he glared at her again.

Chapel chewed another piece of chocolate and eyed the chessboard. "Are you admiring the craftsmanship of the pieces, Captain, or are you going to offer anyone a game?" her blue eyes twinkled slyly.

"Well, I'm waiting for Spock but I think he and Scotty find the engines more enjoyable than spending time with their captain," Kirk put on his best wounded expression. "Do you play?"

"Sometimes. I'm not very good though."

Kirk chuckled. "Choose a colour. Let's see what you've got."

She studied the board thoughtfully. "Oh, why not? Let's live dangerously. I'll go white."

Kirk chuckled again and twisted the board around. Chapel sat up and put her pads to one side, concentrating on the board. She wasn't really being modest about her skills. She could play chess, she was even decent at it but, against dedicated and talented players, she wasn't really much competition. Everyone settled in to watch the game; she could hear them laying wagers on the winner even as she made the first move.

The doctor was only vaguely aware of Scott joining them, she was concentrating too hard on the game. She was three moves ahead, she thought, but wasn't certain as Kirk had already made two unexpected moves that had thrown her slightly. However, she regrouped her knights and bishops and resolved to make worthwhile sacrifices of the vulnerable pawns she left behind. Kirk grinned suddenly and she had the suspicion that was the move he wanted her to make. Chapel scanned the board frantically to see what he was up to, and saw it. It had been so obvious. How on earth had she missed it?

"Check and mate," Kirk moved his bishop and grinned at her.

She looked up sheepishly and was suddenly aware of Spock standing quietly next to her chair, studying the chess board, one eyebrow raised. "Mate in 12 moves. Now I feel like a dunce."

"Another game, Chris?"

"Haven't you embarrassed me enough for one evening?" she laughed. "Play Spock. I'll watch the experts in action."

Kirk glanced challengingly at Spock, whose eyebrow climbed higher. Chapel hauled her chair across towards Uhura, giving him room to slide a seat in between her and Sulu then snuggled back into its welcoming depths. For a moment she paused, suddenly realising that lounging in her seat in this manner placed her incredibly close to Spock. The Vulcan, however, seemed to be absorbed in the chessboard so she discarded the concern. If he wasn't disturbed by the proximity, she wouldn't be either. She grabbed her coffee and balanced the bowl of chocolate between herself and Uhura. "Anyone want some fruit or chocolate? Plenty to spare," then couldn't resist adding "No chocolate for you, Spock. It's illogical to partake of such a nutritionally poor repast."

He looked up sharply and stared at her for a moment. "If you know this, why do you persist in consuming it?"

Her grin widened. "Because it enhances my emotional experience." As if to prove her point, she popped a piece into her mouth and closed her eyes, sliding further down into her seat with a moan of pleasure. "Better than sex," she mumbled.

Laughter erupted around her, causing her to open her eyes. She glanced sidelong at Spock, who was studying the chessboard with stoic Vulcan intensity. "Sorry, Spock," she said, chuckling herself. "I'm just teasing you."

"Indeed, Doctor. It would appear you have spent too many hours with Doctor McCoy. You are developing his more irrational idiosyncrasies."

She laughed. "Hey, Doc, I take after you!"

McCoy grinned. "I always knew you were a smart girl."

Spock resisted the urge to sigh. Her comment had disturbed him enough for his control to slip very slightly, and his Human companions had detected it. From years of living amongst Humans, he had become used to many different styles of humour, and how frequently Humans joked about subjects Vulcans would never discuss so frivolously. Eventually, he had learned how to adapt, anticipate and even retaliate to such comments. He had never, however, envisaged a time when he would be engaged in such banter with Doctor Chapel and this unexpected situation had unsettled him.

As she slid down in her seat, he found their proximity briefly distracting. For a moment, he was reminded of the unease that had defined their dealings with each other on the first mission, which had remained no matter how they had behaved towards each other. It should have departed when she left the ship but instead it had only intensified.

Pursing his lips, he focused his attention on the chess game playing out in front of him. During the first tour, he had not understood the sensation. He did now, he regularly addressed it in his meditations. He accepted it and therefore controlled it. Doctor Chapel's sense of humour was unexpected but it would not cause concern. He would adapt. He always did.