Things were weird between Len and her for days so she finally went into his office and hit the privacy button. "We can't keep this up."
"Speak for yourself. My ex-wife could probably tell you no end of stories about how long I can be a son of a bitch." He never looked away from his terminal as he spoke, adding weight to his claim.
She sighed and sat. "Are we friends?"
He still didn't look up. "I don't know, Christine."
She decided to try something that might provoke a reaction. "Do you want to fuck me?"
He met her eyes finally. "Yes."
"You can't. I'm with Spock. Now, put that aside. Are we friends?"
He seemed to think about it. Finally nodded.
"It shouldn't require that much thought, Len."
"This isn't simple anymore. Things...other things touch on this. The job, Jim's distance, hearing you with Spock—with anyone would bug me, but him..."
"I don't understand this. We were both on Earth. You could have had me."
"With no competition. With Spock gone from the picture. Never knowing who you loved more. If you were just settling. Sounds wonderful, Christine. Sign me up for that magic-carpet ride."
She bit back the angry retort she wanted to let loose and took a moment. "Fine, I can see that. But when I left the ship. Why not then? Before Spock left? I was free. You were free. It wouldn't have been frequent but you could have commed, could have started something."
He nodded and shrugged at the same time. The message was as muddy as his expression.
"Some guys only want what they can't have. Are you that guy?"
"Maybe."
She was shocked he answered so quickly—and so honestly. "Ummm, I'm not sure what to do with that."
"Would you prefer I lie?" He changed his voice, made it high and falsely earnest. "'No, Christine, that's not me.'"
"It would have been easier, I think, if you had lied, but it's probably good that we're being honest." She sighed. "I'm with him. We've got to get past this."
"I can bury it." He checked the chrono, made a face and muttered something about it being five o'clock somewhere, and reached into his cabinet for the bourbon. "This will help drown it out."
"That's not moving past it. That's drowning in it."
"I don't think you get to choose my coping mechanism, Christine. Now, I apologize for anything I've done to make this uncomfortable. I'll...I'll try to be better."
"And I'm sorry for what I said. Taunting you. I'm so sorry."
He nodded, the angry, tight nod that meant he heard the apology but maybe didn't want to accept it just yet.
She stood. "We are friends. We just need to be gentler with each other."
"Right. Sounds good." His tone was condescending—and distracted. Like she and her suggestions were just an annoyance.
She closed her eyes and counted slowly to ten. He was trying to piss her off despite saying he'd be better. She almost felt like calling his ex-wife for tips. "Okay, I'm going now." She turned the privacy button off and fled.
##
Earth was a huge beautiful marble in the viewscreen and growing bigger by the moment. She stood in Spock's quarters and watched it.
"You are glad to be home?" He nuzzled her neck for a moment and then went back to dressing.
"I am. What do you want to do? You and Jim won't be in meetings the whole time, right?"
"We should not be." He turned back to her, pulling her in, pushing her hair off her face and kissing her sweetly.
"Mmmm, girl could get used to this."
"I fully intend you to."
She pulled him back and gave him her best kiss for such a sweet statement.
When they finally pulled away, he said, "Leonard is having a barbeque. He was quite adamant that we come to his house for it."
News to her. Since when did he tell Spock and not her? She made her voice as even as possible and said, "I'm not really a fan of smoked meats. Didn't your mom want us to come for dinner to the embassy before they left for Vulcan?"
"Yes, but I did not want to force family interactions on you when we are so new."
She laughed. "I think you probably mean you don't want me to witness you dealing with your father."
"It is possible that is exactly what I meant."
"Your dad likes me. We talked science when he was stuck in sickbay and your mom was with you."
"He was not displeased to hear I was with you." He touched her cheek, his fingers tender. "I am not sure I have ever heard such approval in his voice."
"You going to Gol didn't make him happy?"
His face tightened. "Gol was...an escape, he thought. A quick detour to control that I had not earned."
"He said that?"
"In his way, yes."
"I'm sorry. I mean I'm not sorry you're not at Gol, obviously. But I'm sorry he didn't approve of your choices. My dad didn't like Roger, so I know how that can feel."
"Why did he not approve?"
"He disapproved of a teacher getting involved with a student. Roger let him think he'd made the first move. It would have killed my dad to know his sweet little girl had been the aggressor in that."
Spock nodded.
"So let's go to the embassy. Let's stay there and just get away from work. I can see the gang in the lounge. I really don't want to spend my liberty with them. Not if we could have some quality family time—and alone time. Your mom will let us stay in the same room, won't she?"
"She has already asked me if I wanted one or two rooms for us when we come to see them. She did not sound dismayed when I said one."
"She probably sees it as a huge leap for you. Big romance."
"No doubt." He kissed her forehead. "If there were another reason you did not want to spend time with our crewmates, would you tell me?"
"You said it yourself. Len and I have unresolved issues. Things are still a little weird—the power dynamics—in sickbay." It wasn't a bald-faced lie, just a mangling of the truth.
"I will let my mother know we are coming. She will be...thrilled is no doubt how she will put it."
"Mmmmm. I love you." That at least was the complete truth. Being with him was easier than she ever expected.
"And I you."
##
"You missed some prime brisket at my barbeque. And peach cobbler, which I seem to remember you having a fondness for." Len had a look she couldn't read.
"Ny told me. Sorry, time with the parents. You know how it is." Or he used to, when he was with someone. Was she being bitchy? She was just trying to avoid a fight but maybe she was coming off too breezy.
"Yeah, so Spock said when he said you couldn't come."
"Why didn't you ask me?" Shit, did she need to go down this road?
"Figured he'd be the harder one to get to a party. I think I figured wrong, huh?"
She shrugged in that way he'd perfected—the gesture that could mean just about anything.
"How were the parents?" Again, she couldn't tell by his tone if he was actually interested.
"Good. Really good. It was nice to be away from everything."
"Everything human, anyway."
"Amanda's human." Actually there were some human staffers at the embassy, too.
"She's gone native."
Chapel laughed, thinking about the fancy rum drinks Amanda had made one night when they'd stayed up late talking. "No, she really hasn't."
"Well, good that you had fun." He nodded, gave her a smile that almost looked real, and walked out.
Was this how things would be from now on? Her trying to read into his every gesture and tone? Walking on eggshells to avoid setting him off?
She hoped to hell not because she really didn't like it.
##
"Reilly," Len leaned in. "Son, I know you can hear me. You've got to fight. You've got to want to live."
She watched the biobed readings all heading steadily downward. "Len."
"This goddamn ship, Christine. How many people is it going to kill?"
She didn't know what to say. Reilly had been servicing a console when it short-circuited.
She heard footsteps, then Scotty's soft burr. "How is he?"
She shook her head.
"I set crewman on the main consoles in engineering and other areas. Trying to see if we could find a systemic problem."
She turned to look at him. "No?"
"It appears to have been random."
"Like the transporters and Sonak?"
He nodded. He studied Len for a moment, then shot her a questioning look.
She just shook her head and he patted her shoulder then left.
"What century do we live in, Christine? I should be able to fix this." Len's voice was strained, sheer frustration—and anger.
"Accidents still happen. We can't fix everything." It had been a mantra in the emergency room at Starfleet Medical. One she'd learned to hate more than a little.
They stood and waited, and Nurse Fahoub joined them, her heavy sigh telling Chapel she understood what she was seeing. "I'll get the antigrav unit." They'd need it to move him into the morgue attached to sickbay.
Chapel nodded.
When the numbers finally flatlined, Chapel handed Len the padd and he began to make notations for what Jim would tell the family, then handed her the padd to make any additions as he got to work on getting Reilly settled for transport.
Fahoub pushed him gently away. "Sir, you and Doctor Chapel have been working for hours. It's gamma shift. I've got this."
"Thank you, Rima." He took a deep breath, then turned and headed for his office.
"You're sure you don't want help?"
"Christine, you're dead on your feet. Go. And make him go, too." She was already working the antigrav into position, and Chapel left her to it.
She walked to Len's office and he stood, hands in his hair, and finally looked at her. "Sometimes I hate this goddamned hunk of metal we're trapped in."
"I know." She felt like she was dealing with an injured—and possibly mean—animal. "You're exhausted. Let's go. You need to get to your quarters and sleep."
"You going to tuck me in, too, mother?" He sat and reached for the bourbon. The not-so-good one. The one he would drink a lot of.
"No," she said, slapping the privacy button before moving around behind him and pushing the cabinet door closed as she maneuvered him out of the way. "That's not the way."
He looked ready to rush past her the minute she gave ground so she moved toward him instead, blocking his way.
"What is the way, Christine?"
"Sleep. Not booze."
"I can't sleep. I just watched a man die. Can you sleep after that?"
She didn't want to tell him that yes, she probably could. She'd learned how to when she was a nurse, and then even more so during her stint in the ER.
"Fine." He started to sit down so she moved out of the way. With a mean grin, he pushed his chair back and got his bottle.
"You can't just drown it out." She moved slowly, taking the bottle from him, putting it as far away from him as she could. "You need to feel."
"You like me better when I drown it out." There was something so helpless in his expression that it made her want to help him, to be tender with him.
"No," she said, as she cupped his cheek gently "I actually don't."
"You want me to feel? Okay." He pulled her, not fast and not with too firm a grip. He was giving her every chance to get away, and she thought if push came to shove she was probably the stronger of the two of them.
But she wasn't fighting him. Not when he pulled her against him, chest to chest. Not when his arms went around her. Not when his lips touched down and she opened her mouth to him. Not when his tongue—"
She jerked away. "Shit. Shit, Len. Shit, shit, shit!"
He didn't look the least bit sorry. "Either come back here or hand me my bottle. You started this two-step, Christine. You have to finish it."
"I'm with Spock."
"So you say. Your lips may not be entirely convinced of that, however."
"I was just trying to help you."
He leaned back on the desk, crossing one ankle over the other, the model of relaxed. "Kiss me or get my bottle."
"Get your own fucking bottle." She stormed out, wishing there were a way to slam a door on this godforsaken ship.
Spock was still up when she palmed her way into his quarters. He took one look at her and said, "What is it?"
"We lost a patient."
"I am sorry. Which crewman?"
"Reilly. A console he was servicing short-circuited. Another victim of the refit." She began to pace, sure that if Spock held her, he'd know what she and Len had just done.
"Do you not want comfort?"
She met his eyes. "How much honesty do you want to have in this relationship?"
"As much as you wish."
"No, not that answer. The safe, 'you decide for me' answer. Tell me. How much fucking honesty do you want?"
"Perhaps you should tell me whatever it is you do not want to tell me, and I will decide if it is too much honesty?" He moved closer. "What is it?"
"Someone was hurting and I tried to make it better for them—and something happened. I didn't mean to."
"Did not mean to comfort them?"
"To kiss them. Or let them kiss me but sort of...kiss back." She closed her eyes.
"Are you referring to Doctor Pierce? She has a way of glaring at me that is slightly unnerving."
"No, it's not Stella." She wasn't going to tell him who it was. That it was her fucking boss, the man she worked with every, single day. His friend—well, sort of friend. Oh, hell, she had no idea if he and Spock were really friends. They were both friends of Jim and forced to interact and maybe that was all it really was? "I pulled away as soon as I realized."
"That is good. You were simply overcome by the moment, then?"
"Yes. It was highly emotional." Jesus, what an understatement.
"And you have no desire to repeat it."
"Of course not." That was true. Right? Oh, shit, it was true, wasn't it? Len could spin her head; that was all this was. He was hurting and he struck out when she disrupted his "get so drunk I don't feel it" plan. That was all. She didn't want him. Kissing back had been nothing more than a reflex.
"Then there is no problem." He seemed to be going out of his way not to touch her.
"You don't want to know, do you? Not really." She sighed and sat down. "How much can your telepathic hands tell you?"
"They can't tell me who it was. They may tell me if you are lying, though—if you are...interested in this person."
She turned and reached for him but stopped before she could make contact. "I've loved you for so long."
He closed the gap, stroking her hair, his other hand clasping hers firmly. "I do not need telepathy, Christine. McCoy has a distinctive cologne and while there is always a trace on you from your days in sickbay, tonight it is much stronger."
"I love you." She put her other hand over his, pushing it hard onto her hand. "Can you feel that? Am I telling the truth?"
"You are. But is it also not possible that you love him to some extent? I've known for some time that he loves you."
"What?"
"The way he treated you—the way he treated me. The...odor of his arousal when he was around you."
"The smelling thing is going to get old." She sighed. There were times she loved the things he could tell from her scent. "Spock, what do I do?"
"Refrain from kissing him again?"
She laughed, softly but a real laugh. Then she leaned into him. "May I kiss you?"
"You will do more than that."
"Mmmm, am I going to like jealous Spock?"
He was already taking her clothes off. "I believe you will."
##
She stepped out of the shower the next morning still tired from the vigil with Reilly and Spock's rather vigorous exorcising of any guilt she'd had.
He was what she wanted. This thing with Len... It wasn't real—or healthy.
"If he continues to...harass you," Spock said as she stepped around him to get to the sink, apparently reading her mind now without any contact—although maybe he was just reading her expression? "I expect you to tell me."
"And you'll do what?"
"What any first officer would do when a member of the crew is paying unwanted attention to a crewmate. I will handle it."
"Through official channels?"
"If I must."
She leaned against him, cool skin to his hotter. "I don't want to take it there yet. I think...I think this isn't just that."
He turned, studying her. "What do you mean?"
"How much do you do with Len? I mean compared to how much you did with him on the last mission?"
"Admittedly less."
"Is that because of you or because of Jim?" She studied him in the mirror. "I've never been sure if you were Len's friend, or if you are both just friends of Jim who are stuck with each other."
He turned to the mirror, meeting her eyes. "Truthfully, I believe it is more the latter."
She nodded and started to put her make-up on.
"Do you think it should be more? I do not find myself inclined to...'pal around' with him, as my mother might say, given his interest in you."
"I don't think you're the problem. I don't think I am either, actually. I think he's angry."
"Doctor McCoy is often angry." He let an eyebrow go up. "We have both been on the receiving end of that anger."
"Yes, we have. You know who doesn't get teased?"
"The man who is holding him at arms' length?"
"Bingo. And you know that? That Jim's avoiding him? I'm not close enough to Jim to tell, except that he was in sickbay a lot more often during our first voyage, after shift, shooting the shit with Len with a drink."
Spock nodded.
"He brought him back. See, that's what I don't get. He brought him back and gave him my fucking job so why stay away?"
"Are you looking for logic when resentment is involved?"
"Yeah. I guess I am."
He almost smiled. "It is a side to you I find most satisfying." His look grew more serious. "But may be of little use in this. Jim...Jim resents Leonard for—" He seemed to be searching for the word.
"For abandoning him?"
Spock nodded. "But what I don't understand is why he has forgiven me. I went much farther in my quest to lose all traces of my old life."
"You did. But you did it for a reason. You had a goal. And your dual nature—the constant balancing of that duality—drove you to it, right?"
"That is correct."
"As far as I can tell, Len just stayed away to prove a fucking point. That he'd told Jim he'd be unhappy if he took the desk job and hey, he was right. I've given him shit about it. He admits it, but I'm not sure he's willing to talk about it. I mean not to me, but to Jim."
"You may well be right. But this is not for us to solve."
"I know. But I do want to understand. He's the biggest bastard when he's hurting. And people who are there, who are reaching out, are the ones he swipes at. Like me. That's why I don't want you to do anything yet." She saw him nod, but there was something in his eye. "Don't go all 'I am Vulcan and you must not touch my woman,' either."
Again the almost grin.
"I do know what you're thinking, Spock."
"That, too, is an agreeable part of our relationship." He leaned down and she met him halfway for a sweet, if quick, kiss.
He was no longer blasé about being late for work; a fact that pleased her greatly because it meant she wasn't taking advantage of a compromised crewman.
##
Len was in her office as soon as she came in, pushing the privacy button and saying, "I went too far. I'm sorry. Truly sorry."
And she could tell by his eyes that he was. But the anger was still there, even if now it looked like it might be turned on himself for a while.
Or maybe Jim. Which could actually be healthy if those two would just sit down and work some shit out.
Couldn't she convince Spock to lock them in a turbolift and tell them it had malfunctioned until they talked things out?
She imagined Spock's reaction to that proposal and abandoned the idea.
"Aren't you going to say anything? Shit, Christine, have I ruined our friendship?" He wasn't looking at her and his expression was hard to read.
She walked around the desk and took the chair next to him. "No, you haven't. Just...don't do it again, okay? My nurture inclination is stupidly strong sometimes. I wanted to help you. That's all."
"And I took advantage of that."
"But you were hurting."
"So quick to give me an out. It'll be your downfall, darlin'." He smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, guess that name is off the table now, huh?"
She wasn't sure what to say. She used to think he called everyone that, but really it was only the women he knew well—or wanted something from. She didn't think he'd ever call Stella that.
"Don't try to answer. I'll watch it. And I suppose I'll have to tiptoe around Spock for a while. Don't want him to read it on my face. What's been going on."
She let out a small laugh. "You think I didn't tell him what happened?"
He looked honestly surprised.
And a little pissed.
Jesus, could he never stop with the mind fucks?
"I'm learning I can tell him anything, Len. We have that kind of relationship."
"Well, that's great." He didn't meet her eyes and his tone wasn't where she wanted it to be.
She stopped and waited, not rushing in, letting the moment sort of ripen until she finally said, "It's what I always admired about your friendship with the captain. The two of you just...spoke your minds."
It was a non sequitur, but he didn't seem to notice it. Just looked down and said, "Yeah. That was nice."
"Was?"
He sighed. "Is. Is, of course."
"I don't see him down here much." It was a risk, hitting this so head on. But she wanted to help him and while Spock might think this wasn't their problem to solve, it sure was one she could get Len thinking more about.
But by his look she knew she'd miscalculated. "Jim's down here. You're just too busy with your Vulcan paramour to notice."
"Okay." She held up her hand. "Okay, sure."
A thick silence seemed to fall, one that was taking them back to ground she thought they'd just left behind. "I really do appreciate you coming in here. I value our relationship. Professional and personal. I don't want it to grow toxic."
"Right. Me neither." He watched her walk around the desk, and his eyes narrowed. "If Spock knows what happened, he technically should bring me up on charges. I kissed you. It's sexual harassment."
"He knows I kissed you back. I have a feeling it's what's keeping him from doing just that."
"You told him that, too?" His look was incredulous. "That you kissed me back?"
"Like I said. We can talk about anything."
"I'll bear that in mind going forward."
"Please do." She smiled as gently as she could. "Don't you have bridge to mosey on up to? How can I give you crap for never being here if you're here?"
His expression changed. And not in a good way.
She tried to save it. "I mean I know the new bridge isn't as conducive to..."
"Loitering?" His look told her to tread carefully.
"Observing the senior staff in action."
"Do you think I'm not welcome up there, Christine? All these veiled references to Jim's and my friendship are a little strange. You've never shown much interest in that before now."
"I just think maybe things have changed a little." Jesus, could she not keep her stupid mouth shut? The look on his face darkened.
"Hold that thought." He was up and out to his office, grabbing padds and then coming back in. "I want to talk about change. I took your advice and did my own research, learned who my staff is. Found this. Your original duty roster. Interesting thing, originally the deputy wasn't slated to be on alpha shift." He let an eyebrow go up. "Seems you argued emergencies don't always happen on alpha shift. Makes a lot of sense."
She stared at him, incredulous. She'd made that argument because she hadn't wanted to spend any more time than was necessary with D'Angelo, someone Will liked but she detested. Stella had been right that she would have been looking for a way to get rid of him.
"Nothing to say? Well, then you won't mind switching shifts." He smiled and put the padd on the desk. "I'm going to bring Pierce to alpha." His look told her he knew that he was taking away her ally. "She seems like an ambitious type. Will appreciate being on the prime shift. You want that for your friend, right? The exposure?"
He'd roped her into a corner. Her only argument for why she didn't want to change shifts was because she wanted to be on the same schedule as her boyfriend. Not exactly a reason Starfleet Medical would take seriously if she pushed back.
She swallowed reflexively and his eyes narrowed and lips turned up a little, as if in triumph. How long had he been waiting to spring this on her? His apology had seemed sincere—was this a back-up plan in case she told him to take his "I'm sorry" and stick it up his ass?
Spock had told her to leave this alone. Why the fuck hadn't she listened to him? If she hadn't been prying, would Len have done this?
"Well," she finally said, desperately trying to pull her professional cloak around her, "since it was my idea, I can hardly argue. Perhaps you could give Doctor Pierce the choice of staying as head of beta or switching to alpha in the more subordinate role? I'll take gamma if she wants to stay in beta."
His eyes narrowed. As if he was trying to figure out her angle.
"I'm just looking out for my friend. She's a shift head now. This could look like a demotion. For one of my people. Combined with moving me..." She resisted looking up, didn't want him to see how much she was enjoying it. Did he really think he could fuck with her on a bureaucratic issue? She'd survived academia while sleeping with her goddamn professor: this was nothing. "I don't think Jim would want any kind of...irregular assignments." Complaint-worthy assignments, she was really saying.
And when she finally looked up and met his eyes, she could see he understood that.
She thought she also saw a new respect. Grudging and pissed as hell, but still, she'd take it.
"You're right, Doctor. I'll give her the choice." As he stood, he said, "Sorry if this puts a crimp in your love life, but mission first, right?"
"Absolutely." She waited until he was at the door. "And it'll be fine. Spock doesn't need much sleep."
His step faltered for a moment. She felt way more pleasure than she should have.
##
Stella found her in the mess eating a late lunch. She had her padd and slid it across the table as she sat. "What the fuck? We're switching shifts?"
"This isn't my doing."
"Yes, the name on the from line is pretty clear. What is he doing?"
"Sadly, what I was going to do to D'Angelo. Get him off the same shift."
"Yeah, but you didn't like him." She took a deep breath. "Seriously? This is personal?"
"To be honest, I'm not sure what it is." She pushed the padd back.
"What should I do?"
"The exposure would be really good for you. You need Jim and Spock to get to know you so they give referrals for your next assignment that sound real, not rote." Chapel sighed. "But I know how it is to be the head of something, to have autonomy, even limited, and then have it taken away. If you want to stay in beta, I'll switch to gamma."
"Which is better for you?"
"Alpha is better for me. The other two, either will work fine." She shrugged.
Stella made a face. "Come on. No one wants Gamma. Especially if they're dating someone on alpha." She pulled the padd back. "If I switch, will you give me tips on dealing with McCoy."
Chapel let out a bark of laughter she didn't mean to. "I don't think you want that. I've been misstepping, and he has too, since V'ger."
"What's really going on with you, too? Sometimes I see him watching you in a...fairly intense way. It's just this side of creepy."
"I can't go into it."
"You'd warn me if he was going to do that to me—I mean if that's what he does."
"It's not what he does. And if it is, come to me. I have a boyfriend who would love to make a case of it." Shit, did she just say that out loud? What the fuck was wrong with her?
Stella just grinned and let out a delighted little giggle. "I think I might actually like Spock."
"Maybe you'll get to know him." She hadn't been very good about trying to make that happen. She'd been so focused on Spock and their relationship—and any other energy was going to Len. "Let's make that happen. We'll figure out the timing."
"Okay." She started to key in a reply.
"You're not going to tell him in person?"
"Did he ask me in person?" She hit send and said "Have fun in beta. It's actually my favorite shift."
Chapel smiled. "I know. It's mine too." Alpha had more prestige, but beta was often the perfect blend of action and easy time.
"You don't seem too broken up about less time with Spock." Stella leaned in. "But I've heard Vulcans don't sleep much."
Chapel grinned and knew it was a wicked expression. "You heard right, toots."
##
"Why are you scanning me, Christine?" Spock pushed her hand away from him. "I am fine."
"You're staying up for me. I want to make sure you're not doing something that ultimately isn't good for you." The scans looked great.
"And...?"
"You're in tip-top shape, Mister."
He pulled her close. "On days I feel fatigued, I have taken to napping during beta shift."
"I like that. I like that we're making this work." She kissed him slowly and he rolled her to her back.
"May I tell you a truth?"
She nodded.
"I prefer you on this shift. I know Leonard often stays in sickbay after shift change so you are not entirely free of him, but I am...relieved that his time with you is far more limited."
"Why?" She kissed him playfully to show she wasn't questioning his truth, just interested in learning more.
"It is a complicated morass of sentiment."
She chuckled. "Sorry."
"On the one hand, I do not want him...pursuing you, if that is, in fact, what he was doing."
"Do you worry I'll be interested in him?"
"There is a small amount of concern over that. But insignificant compared to the annoyance factor of his attentions."
She nodded. "Is that all? Not much of a morass."
"I hope that he and Jim will work things out in a way that benefits them and us. I think, for now, it is better that you are not always around him, reminding him of you and me." He rolled to his side and pulled her with him so they were face to face. "I have been considering your question, if Leonard and I are truly friends."
"And what did you conclude?"
"That we are. Are you familiar with the concept of cognitive dissonance?"
"Of course. It would explain a lot—why he strikes out the more he acts inappropriately. Especially when you combine that with a person who prefers to joke or insult his way out of losing control."
"Precisely. I...do not want him to pull away further over this. I hope eventually he will come to terms and reassign you to alpha." He sighed. "I also do not want to bring a friend up on sexual harassment—or even assault—charges. As first officer..."
"I know. He hasn't repeated it. And I did kiss him back."
"Yes, that is what I tell myself so I do not feel derelict in my duty." He sighed. "And then there is Jim. I do not know how to make things better for them."
"Hey, buddy, listen to your own advice. We'd be on the same shift if I'd done that. Not our circus, not our monkeys." She rubbed her nose against his as he let out a short puff of air—she loved it when she made him laugh. "I like beta shift. And you're accommodating us so beautifully. Thank you."
"Yes, it is a great hardship to nap while you are working so that I can enjoy sex with you later." He nuzzled her neck, then whispered into her ear. "And enjoy your company. I find your brain as diverting as your body."
"Aww, and they think you're not a romantic." She laughed as he pushed her to her back again and whispered, "If we did a joint science experiment in one of the really small labs, we could have sex in there too. Combine the body and the brain."
One side of his mouth actually went up into a smile. "I have already booked lab seventeen for just that eventuality."
"There is no lab seventeen."
"I am having it refitted." His eyes were sparkling. "Heavily soundproofed."
"Am I really that loud when I come?"
"I have a limited sample to compare you to."
"That's adorable. But on a non-comparative basis, am I loud?"
He nodded, his look one of satisfaction. "Let me caveat that answer by saying I enjoy your vocalizations greatly."
"Well, why don't you get busy and see if you can get me vocalizing like a champ."
"I will accept the challenge, Doctor."
He accepted and then some.