A week passed by in which Celyn felt herself getting increasingly short tempered. In that week, she snapped at a hapless Pavel Chekov and had to excuse herself from the bridge; she lost her focus during her training session with Sulu, and the lieutenant accidentally dislocated her shoulder; and she actually yelled at McCoy in the sick bay before bursting into tears and babbling her apologies while the doctor stared.
She didn't play chess and she avoided Spock—which was difficult to do considering she still wanted to show up somewhere on Kirk's radar.
Then, on the seventh day of her bad temper, the Enterprise had to refuel. On Bones' urging once again, Kirk allowed his crew a few hours of shore leave on an agricultural planet while the ship was fueled by the supply station nearby. Celyn soon found it difficult to be in a bad mood once she discovered the planet's large outdoor marketplace. Her eyes lit up immediately, and soon McCoy, her self-proclaimed bodyguard, was struggling to keep up with her.
This was why she wanted to travel the universe. This was what had originally made her join Starfleet. Oh how she loved the culture of alien races, the languages, the exotic cuisine—
"Why didn't you become a language expert like Uhura? Or study biological sciences?" asked McCoy, watching her.
Her expression faltered and she set down the pink pear-shaped fruit she'd picked up from one of the stands. "I'm no good at languages. My parents…My father was a great military mind, and he trained me in it himself when I was very little. It would be an insult to him if I didn't enter the Operations Division as a tactical officer."
"But you seem to enjoy alien culture so much more. You seem bored by your job. You'd probably be perfect as some kind of ambassador—"
"It doesn't matter," she said quickly. Her blue eyes focused on something two stands down. "Oh! Look!" She sped over to the other stand, where there was an array of colorful bottles. "Natural perfumes, dyes, smelling salts…"
Her face, as excited as he'd ever seen her, reminded him of a kid on a candy planet.
"Here, doctor, you ought to be interested in this," she said, holding up a blue and purple bottle closed with a cork. "Completely natural anesthetic." She turned to the seller, smiling widely, and asked, "How much?"
As she dug out the necessary credits from a small velvet bag, McCoy couldn't help returning her beaming smile. "Hey, kid. You don't have to call me doctor."
"What would I call you?"
"Leonard, for starters, as that happens to be my first name."
She frowned slightly, retrieving her new purchase and handing it to him. "Here, I bought it for you. A present."
"What for?" he asked, spluttering.
"For you! Look, it's topical, just like the ones you use already, but it's in its concentrated form. It takes much less to get the same effect of the other stuff." She nudged it at him. "Take it."
He did so, touched, as she bent her head slightly and added, "And it's a thank you…for being kind to me…Leonard."
McCoy's chest swelled slightly, puffed up with pride and the added effect of being appreciated, and then he cleared his throat and said, "Yes, well, c'mon kid. There's more to see, isn't there?"
By the time McCoy and Celyn had to return to the Enterprise, the lieutenant's mood seemed permanently positive. She had purchased only a few more things—nothing for herself—which included a hand-carved wooden training sword for Lieutenant Sulu, a chess set cut from natural marble, and a vintage, exotic form of liquor.
"Who is this for?" asked McCoy when she purchased the chess set. He examined it closely. "It's nice."
She blushed and bit her lip.
"If it's for the captain, a bit of advice. He'd probably prefer the alcohol." McCoy laughed and she just nodded meekly.
It had always been her intention to give the bottle of liquor to the captain—she knew he liked to drink recreationally when he wasn't on duty, and it had become impossible for him since, as captain, he was always running the risk of being called back to the bridge. It wouldn't do for him to be inebriated. That's why she had also gone back to the perfume and smelling salt stand and gotten a vial of natural medicine that could scrub the alcohol from his system in under a minute.
As for the chess set…she just didn't want to admit that she had bought it while thinking of Commander Spock.
After all, she hardly knew him. There was no reason to be buying him gifts. But the marketplace had been intoxicating, she had been so excited and happy, and the set had screamed out to her that it should belong to the half-Vulcan. She would just deliver it to his quarters and run away—no explanation, no chance of conversation.
"How much did you spend on this stuff, kid?"
"Not that much!" she protested, face hot. "It was so reasonable. Who knows when or if we'll ever get back to that exact planet in the next five years?"
"Did you get that color-changing nail polish you liked?" he asked. "Or how about the perfume?"
"I didn't need those." She smiled. "I never have any reason to be girly. I'm a Starfleet officer. Who cares if I smell like an otherworldly gardenia or if my nails are painted?"
McCoy shrugged at her, and she looked back down at the bottle of liquor. "Do you think he'll like it?" she asked quietly.
"Don't stress so much, kid. I'm sure it'll go over well."
Celyn was fidgeting slightly, waiting outside of Captain Kirk's quarters—she knew he was here because she'd asked the computer. She shifted from foot to foot, unbelievably nervous, but before she could gather the courage, his door slid open.
"Lieutenant?" He blinked in surprise, looking down at her. "What is it?"
"Oh, um…" she trailed off, struggling for words. He's going to think I'm some illiterate child… "I-I bought this at the marketplace on the planet's surface…I thought you might…"
She held out the bottle as an offering, blushing profusely in her way, and waited for him to say something.
"Hm?" He took the bottle, examining it closely.
"I-It's a local alcoholic drink, supposed to taste very sweet, but it's got about the same alcohol content as Saurian brandy."
The liquid within the bottle was a vibrant pink, and its coloring caused Kirk to crack a smile and say, "Not the manliest looking of drinks, is it?"
"Not really." She tried to relax when she saw his smile and attempted one of her own. "Oh, and…" She pulled the little vial of medicine from her pocket. "Here, this too."
"What's this one for?" He laughed. "Don't tell me it's some kind of super-potent shot of liquor."
"N-No. It's medicine."
"Medicine?"
"There's enough in here to last about the whole bottle, Captain." Celyn reached up to toy with a stray piece of her blonde hair, then dropped her hand just as quickly. "You take just a little drop and it'll get all the alcohol out of your system. No hangover."
"Really?" The captain's young face brightened. "That's great! Thanks, Lieutenant Mercy." Suddenly, his grin turned decidedly suggestive. "Want me to give you a call when I decide to open it?" He threw in a wink, and she thought she might die on the spot.
There were no words in her brain, absolutely no words, just the image of that grin, that wink—
She was saved, oddly enough, by a certain pointy-eared commander. "Captain, there you are. Doctor McCoy expressed a wish to see you. Something about testing out his new…present."
Celyn fought back the urge to giggle as she realized what McCoy would be using her anesthetic for. He was probably going to give Captain Kirk another round of unnecessary hypos, testing and comparing the anesthetic's effectiveness. I should warn him…
When she opened her mouth, however, to do just that, the captain had set down the bottle of liquor and had already started walking away. "I'm not his damn guinea pig," he grumbled down the hall. "You'd think he'd start respecting me now that I'm captain."
Spock barely looked at her when he nodded slightly and said, "Lieutenant," as a sort of dismissal.
She watched his retreating back with a pang, and suddenly, she stepped forward and called out, "Commander?"
He stilled, but didn't turn around. "What is it, Lieutenant?"
"I…Can you…" She cleared her throat, collecting every ounce of confidence the Captain's smile had given her, and said, "Will you accompany me back to my quarters for a moment?" As an afterthought, she added: "Please."
He agreed—reluctantly, it seemed—and when they reached her room she stopped him just outside of the door and stuttered, "W-Wait here."
She ran into her room, grabbing the box containing the chess set and holding it close to her chest. Struggling to regain control of her breathing pattern, she tried and failed to stay calm as she prepared to give a gift to a man who probably hated her.
"Here." She thrust it at him as she exited her quarters.
He took it on impulse, but then looked at it strangely without a word.
"It's a chess set. Marble chess set." When her hands began to shake, she clasped them firmly behind her back. "I don't know if your other set has some kind of sentimental value or if you even take sentimental value into consideration since you've sworn off emotion and all that, but…" She swallowed thickly before continuing, "I thought you might like having a nice set since you seem to enjoy playing. That's…That's all I wanted to…"
Her communicator buzzed to life, Sulu's voice coming through only slightly fuzzy: "Mercy, you're late." She could hear the slight smile in his voice.
"Right, I'm sorry," she answered back, attempting to keep the relief out of her voice. "I'm on my way."
Without another word at the speechless half-Vulcan, she walked hurriedly away.
That was stupid. That was so stupid. Why did I even get him a gift? He hates me. Now I just seem creepy and desperate and it looks like I'm trying to kiss his ass or something…
At the end of her shift, Celyn sprang up and signaled to Sulu. He nodded his understanding, and a short time later, he met her in the training room.
Celyn tried to duck under Sulu's arm, but he knocked her off-balance and she fell to the ground with him pinning her in a chokehold. He moved his arm off her neck so as not to hurt her, but sighed and said, "You need to learn to focus, Mercy. If you're distracted, I'm just going to keep pinning you."
She gave him an apologetic wince. "I'm sorry, Sulu."
He lifted himself up off of her, offering his hand in preparation for standing and helping her up. "Here, we'll try again."
When he pulled her up, she couldn't find her proper footing, and she fell backwards—taking Sulu down with her. Celyn heard the door just as she opened her mouth to apologize to Sulu, and a familiar voice said, "Oh, so this is why you followed her out after your shift."
"Captain!" Celyn scrambled upright, while Sulu began laughing.
"Don't let me interrupt anything," said Kirk, his smile wide and playful.
"Lieutenant Sulu and I—we were—we aren't—"
"We were just sparring, Captain." Sulu stemmed his laughter and reached down to lift up a red-faced and sputtering Lieutenant Mercy.
"Lieutenant Mercy, relax," Kirk said calmingly. "I'm just joking."
"Right, of course, joking, sir." She bit the inside of her cheek harshly to keep the stream of babbling words from overflowing.
He laughed again, relaxed and at ease, and said something to Sulu that she didn't quite catch. Her mind was elsewhere, and before she ever had a chance to get it back, her captain had already gone. Sulu excused himself from their training session, apologizing and assuring her that they would get back to it later, but she barely heard him either.
She sat down on a bench in the training room, reeling and a bit dizzy, an uncomfortable, tightening nervousness in the pit of her stomach. She didn't want that moment to be forever be associated with her image in the Captain's mind, that was true and simple, but why was it this bad? Why was she close to hyperventilating, close to fainting, close to losing herself?
She laid down on the bench slowly, allowing her mind to drift where it wanted, and she just faded into her head. Memories swam before her eyes, and as she tried to calm down, she picked one at random to focus on.
The reason for all this, she supposed vaguely, was because the feeling she got from the captain being so flippantly cheerful, had reminded her of someone else she had once cared about.
Foster care wasn't great, wasn't terrible. It was just so lonely there. She had no one after what had happened, no one at all. The people who took care of her were nice enough, but they didn't pay any more attention to her than they had to. When Grandmother came to get her, she thought it was a saving grace. An end to the loneliness.
It wasn't.
It wasn't, because Grandmother couldn't take both of them.
Her younger sister, Elysia, the better of the two when they were compared, was eight years old. She was beautiful already, clever and energetic, and Celyn knew that. She was so proud of that. She loved her sister. She couldn't relate to her, or talk to her about much, but she still loved her.
But Grandmother couldn't take both of them.
Elysia had smiled and held her sister's hand, and had told her to go. Elysia had told Celyn to go. "You deserve to be loved, sis."
All the while, Celyn had been hoping, selfishly hoping, that Elysia would say that. That Elysia would give up her happiness so Celyn could be the one Grandmother took home.
One sister was selfish, shy, average. One sister was perfect.
The perfect one was left in the foster system. The other got what she deserved.
She was twelve, spending her days holed up in the little room at her grandparents' house. Her grandmother didn't do much aside from cook her meals and make sure she was clothed, and every time she left her room, her grandfather would find something cruel to say. Celyn didn't really remember how she passed the time for those first four years. She went to school, but that seemed to only fill a small fraction.
She cried about Elysia and tried to write to her, but she had already switched foster homes and the letter was sent back unopened. The guilt remained, and she yearned for nothing more than a confidant, but her painful shyness and introverted ways prevented any kind of social interaction no matter how badly she craved it.
Her memories of those years all kind of blended together, up until the day she met him. She was sixteen years old, had never had any real dreams to speak of, but when she saw him, she was overwhelmed by the wish for him to talk to her. Even just once.
He was a year older than her, cool, suave, charming. He had a smile that lit up a room and a name that melted on your tongue like smooth caramel.
William Tate.
He approached her on a cold afternoon, when she had forfeited sitting in her room in favor of perching outside, sitting on the sidewalk and leaning her back against the brick wall not far from her grandparents' house. She was doodling her name absently on the front page of a journal she'd gotten herself. She didn't really feel like writing in it, per se, but she had found five dollars on the street and it had felt good to buy herself something she knew she didn't need, just because she could.
"Celyn R. Mercy," he repeated, smiling that dazzling smile. "What's the 'R' stand for?"
She jumped nearly five feet out of her skin, and she suddenly got tremors in her right hand so badly that she dropped her pencil. "R-Renata. It's my…middle name."
Her voice was so very quiet, she was certain he hadn't heard her. In a few minutes he would walk away and that would be the end of it.
Except that he bent down to pick up her pencil and handed it back to her, seating himself with a slightly awkward plop beside her. "Renata? Celyn Renata. That's an unusual name."
"My parents liked…unconventional names." She felt her cheeks flush in embarrassment and stared intently down at the journal, allowing her hair to fall and shield her face like a curtain.
"Hey now," he said gently, lifting his hand to move her hair back. "Don't hide from me."
She shifted away from his hand on reflex, a frightened look on her face that faded into surprise as she touched her cheek where his fingertips had brushed. "W-Why?"
His smile only grew and he tilted his head at her when he responded, "You're too pretty to hide. Duh."
It was such a human thing, to be in love. It came quickly, not creeping up on her the way she read in books. She thought of nothing but his deep green eyes and brilliant smile, his voice when he would address her fondly or speak her name. He became her only friend, and she loved him.
Her shyness increased tenfold around him. Her face seemed to remain permanently the shade of a cherry tomato. She daydreamed constantly, imagining a world where it was her and Will and no one else. She clung to him like a person starved, and the best part was that he didn't mind.
A year later, on her seventeenth birthday, he gave her a present and told her he had something serious to talk about. They were sitting against the exact same wall they always did. She tried a smile and opened the present first—a little locket. She gushed over it, stumbling over her words at the sheer beauty of the simple necklace, and he helped her put it on. He had laughed at her nervousness, just as Captain Kirk had done in the training room a few moments ago.
"S-So, what did you need to tell me?" she asked, avoiding his gaze and attempting to hide her wide smile.
"'Lyn, look at me," he said.
She complied. His eyes bored into hers.
"You know I love you, right?"
She swallowed thickly. He had said it to her before, in a joking, friendly way, on several occasions. "Yes, I know."
"I mean, I love you."
"I-I know, Will."
"I really love you," he stressed. "Don't just say you know. Do you understand, Celyn?"
She swallowed again and shook her head. Truthfully, she didn't. She hoped, she prayed, she wish oh so hard, but she didn't understand, because she didn't dare assume wrong.
Will sighed and abandoned that train of thought for a moment. "Celyn, I'm leaving."
Her heart stopped, her breath stopped. Everything just stopped. She felt as if she were cemented to the spot.
"I'm going to Starfleet Academy."
She exhaled slowly.
"I know you said your grandmother was making you go, so we won't be apart for long." The corners of his mouth turned up slightly. "We'll see each other when you enter the Academy. I just feel like a year is so long."
Celyn nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
"I'll miss you." He held her hand, like he often did, but this time it was gentler. His thumb gently stroked the back of her hand.
"Is it…" She cleared her throat. "Is it dangerous?" It was true she was also going to enlist in Starfleet, but only because her grandmother kept pushing her towards it. Her grandfather often argued, saying Celyn wasn't as strong as her father, and therefore "would make a shit Starfleet officer".
"It won't be. Maybe once I graduate."
He gave her that serious look from before, and even though she was sitting she felt her knees tremble. When he leaned forward and kissed her, she cried. He loved her, he was leaving, and she wouldn't see him for a year.
He held her face in his hands as she cried and continued to kiss her. When the tears dripped down her cheeks, he wiped them away and kissed her neck.
"W-W-When are you leaving?" she sobbed.
"Tomorrow."
"T-Tomorrow!" She cried some more, shaking against him, and he kissed her again.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I couldn't think of how to do it. I didn't want to see you crying, Celyn. Please don't cry."
But she had cried. She had cried the next day, when he left. She forgot to tell him she loved him too.
Celyn sat up on the bench, the tears running down her face slowly. The only part of that memory that had reminded her of the captain had been Will's laughter, but the memory hadn't stopped there. No matter how much she wished every time that it would. The point remained: Jim Kirk laughed just like William Tate.
"Lieutenant Mercy," came a mildly surprised voice. "Has something upset you?"
Just like that, Celyn snapped fully back to reality. She wasn't a naïve, painfully shy sixteen-year-old girl on Earth anymore. She was a lieutenant aboard the U.S.S. Enterprise. Will was in the past. He would always be in the past.
"Just thinking about…something." She rubbed quickly at her face. "I apologize, sir."
Spock stepped into the room hesitantly. "I came to thank you for the chess set. While unnecessary, the gesture was…thoughtful. Though I just wanted to make you aware, Lieutenant, that purchasing me gifts is illogical and you need not do it in the future."
Celyn bit her lip. His thank you sure sounded a lot like she was being scolded for getting anything. 'I like it and all, but don't buy me anything anymore.' Drained, she simply nodded.
"I am free for chess," said Spock. "If you'd like."
Will filled her mind again. "No, thank you, sir. I think I'll…rest."
She left the room in a hurry, determined to make it back to her quarters before fresh tears could spill over.
She was so weak. So unbelievably weak. She was crying over a boy who hadn't been in her life in almost six years. It wasn't the first time she'd cried. She just wanted it to stop. She didn't love him anymore. She remembered loving him, and that wasn't what she felt now. She thought again about the captain's laugh.
Oh God…
She changed her course in the hall abruptly. I need…I need…
McCoy. I need to talk to McCoy. I need…
She pushed the button to open the door and walked in, nearly tripping in her haste. "Doctor—"
"Oh, Lieutenant." Nurse Chapel's mouth flattened into a thin line. "I'm with a patient right now, if you don't mind."
At first, Celyn was struck by the flat tone of Chapel's voice and her obviously displeased expression. Her patient, a yeoman, blinked in surprise as well at the nurse's change.
"Dr. McCoy is out, Lieutenant. If you'll excuse me…"
"Where is he?" Celyn asked desperately.
"I'm not his keeper, Lieutenant," Chapel said. "Try the mess or his quarters."
She stumbled out of the sick bay, knowing she wasn't going to make it before she started to cry. Her eyes stung.
"Leonard," she called, banging on his door. Please be in here, please be in here… "I-I really need to talk…I need…" She sank to the ground, her forehead pressed to the door.
It swished open. "Celyn? You look terrible, what the hell happened? Did someone do something to you?"
"I need to talk to you, please." Her voice cracked pitifully.
"Well for God's sake, come in!"
She gratefully drank the cup of tea he handed her, tears gone. She felt so very tired, emotionally drained, and just plain embarrassed after explaining everything to McCoy and then crying into her hands for half an hour.
"So, you're in love with Jim."
She cleared her throat. "Yes."
"And you're sure? You don't even really know him."
Celyn seemed surprised by that question. "I…I've been in love before."
"How did you know it was love?" McCoy was watching her carefully as her trembling hands put down her cup.
"I…He made me happy, and I…" She frowned, finding she couldn't answer the question.
"Kid, when you fall in love, you'll know it. That question will be easy. Stop freaking out."
The doctor placed his hand on her knee and said, "The boy, Will, where is he now?"
Celyn licked her lips and said quietly, "He was on the U.S.S. Hood when Nero…"
McCoy backtracked immediately. "Oh, God, kid, I'm so sorry."
"It's okay." She wrung her hands together, giving a weak smile. "I stopped loving him about a year before then." When I saw Jim Kirk… "And he hadn't spoken to me for longer than that."
Still, McCoy looked like he didn't really believe her, and she still remembered that moment in time very well.
"Captain!" The ship shook violently, pitching, as Ensign Mercy ran onto the bridge. "There's a problem—"
Her voice caught in her throat as she viewed the wreckage of the six Federation ships who had arrived before them. Her hand flew to her mouth, muffling the scream that threatened to erupt as she saw a particular piece of wreckage with the remains of the word 'Hood'.
No. Will, no. Oh God, Will. You were on the Hood.
"Ensign Mercy, what is it?" snapped Pike. "Sulu, quit cutting it so close!"
"I'm trying, Captain!"
"Mercy! What is it? Make it quick!"
"The—The—"
"Spit it out, Mercy, or get off my bridge!"
Her lieutenant came up behind her. "The phasers need to charge, sir, if you plan on firing them. They haven't been tested in this kind of scenario."
Sulu avoided another large chunk of debris, and then the Romulan ship came into view. It was the last thing Celyn saw outside of the ship that day—her lieutenant had her escorted out, and she went through the remainder of the Battle of Vulcan in a kind of fog.
But she hadn't loved him then. He had been her friend, but she had given up loving him.
She changed the subject, attempting to lighten the mood. The last few hours of her day seemed so dark, and she didn't want that to continue. She wanted something, anything, to cheer her up.
"Does Nurse Chapel dislike me?"
She frowned at herself. The answer to that question certainly wasn't going to cheer her up. Why the hell would she ask that?
McCoy choked on his own tea, coughing a few times before beginning to laugh. "Oh, you really are a kid, aren't you?"
"I'm twenty-five, Leonard," she protested, her lips turning up slightly at his laughter.
"Still a kid, kid. Look, Chapel only dislikes you because she thinks you like me." McCoy paused to laugh, lifting a hand and ruffling his hair. "She lectured me just the other day on how 'unfitting' it was for a doctor such as myself to be 'cavorting around with a young thing like her'." He patted her knee. "Don't let it bother you."
But it did bother her. The idea of someone disliking her, even for that reason, made discomfort twist in her stomach. She pushed it onto the backburner for now and said, "I'm such a mess, aren't I?"
He laughed again. "A bit, kid. Nothing a few drinks won't fix."
"I've never really drank before…"
"We won't start now," he assured her. "I was just making a joke." His warm eyes encouraged a slightly larger smile from her. "Feel better, Celyn?"
She nodded just as her comm went off. "Lieutenant, you're needed on the bridge."
Frowning, Celyn responded back in the affirmative and stood, feeling as if she should be giving McCoy a hug. As it was, she smiled again at him and left feeling just a bit lighter. Will was locked away in the back of her mind again, thoughts of her job and her captain—and even the first officer—front and center. She came onto the bridge, taking her seat, and was greeted by the sight of a large green and grey planet she had never seen before.
"Uncharted planet," Kirk was muttering to himself excitedly. "My first uncharted planet as captain. Ha!"
Celyn stared at it, her breath gone from her chest, as she was nearly overcome with curiosity. She knew it would be too much to hope that the Captain would allow her to beam down, but God how she hoped he would.
She only hoped he would.
A/N: not sure how much people notice the little nuances, so i'll just explain..she likes giving gifts because she likes making purchases (since she couldn't when she was living with her grandparents) but she doesn't like buying things for herself. it makes her feel selfish.
anywho. please review. please and thank you.
