Christine surveyed the choices on the dinner buffet in the Officer's Mess. Despite the fact the Chef had prepared a number of her favorites, nothing seemed appetizing. Be that as it may, she had to eat something. It was going on four days since she'd swiped her meal chip, and if she missed another meal the PerScan system would flag her to Medical for investigation. If her present circumstances seemed unbearable, she could only imagine what new level of hell would be achieved by adding a thorough grilling from Leonard McCoy to the mix.
The small dining room was buzzing with the excited chatter of young officers making plans for the upcoming leave. Four short days ago she'd shared in their sense of joyful anticipation. The excursion to Vista Angeles was to have been their "coming out" to their crewmates. No more sneaking around fearful of being caught together, no more slipping back to their respective cabins every night. Well they wouldn't have to worry about that anymore she mused, cringing at the bitter irony. Now her fears centered on walking into the mess and seeing him there or lying alone in her empty bunk surrounding by the memories of the nights of intense passion they'd shared.
She had to find a way get off of this ship, she decided as she finally settled on a plate of grilled root vegetables and a cup of coffee. Her feeble attempt to blackmail Spock into signing off on the transfer had been a desperate bluff. The sex had been consensual, and the scandal would only serve to destroy both of their careers. The idea of simply not returning from leave had already crossed her mind, but the prospect of two years in a Fleet detention facility made that a less that attractive plan of action.
For a moment she saw her reflection in the highly polished durasteel of the coffee server. You look like hellon apopsicle stick, she chided herself. It had been days since she'd been able to actually sleep and it was only copious amounts of Leonard's strong black coffee keeping her on her feet.
"I didn't know you were a vegetarian Christine?" She looked up to see a smiling face reflected in the surface of the coffee server.
Christine spun around to find Lt. Eric Hanson standing behind her, an empty tray in his hands. His green eyes were warm, and Christine instinctively found herself returning his open affable smile.
"I'm not." A trace of a frown crossed her lips and she returned the plate filed with orange and purple grilled tubers to the counter with a decisive thud. With a gentle wave she caught the Chef's attention. "I'd like a cheeseburger…no wait a double cheeseburger…with bacon."
"Make that two," Hanson added with a soft chuckle, "And a big chocolate milkshake." He gave Christine another smile before adding, "With two straws."
"Are you asking me to have dinner with you Lieutenant?" Christine laughed, and realized that for the first time in four days she felt human.
"I believe I am Doctor."
Eric Hanson logged into his post and began the reports that the Fleet Engineers requisitioned for the scheduled refits. He was by nature, a social person who normally disliked the solitary duty of Gamma shift supervisor, but tonight he was quite happy to be alone with his thoughts. The dinner with Christine had been like a dream come true. He'd been attracted to her from the first time he'd seen her in sickbay six years ago; although he had never managed to get her to notice him, at least not the way he would have liked.
Ship's gossip said she was engaged to some famous scientist who'd gone missing on a deep space mission. She'd taken the billet on the Enterprise in an effort to find him. Some of his crewmates found it quaint and almost childishly romantic, but he'd seen it a sign of character and he'd found his admiration for the beautiful young nurse growing.
Something had happened down on Exo III, though the nature of the exact series of events had all been kept extremely hush hush. Whatever had actually occurred, the report stated simply that they'd found her fiancé dead on Exo III. Everyone was certain that there was more to the story, but Kirk had made it clear that any further discussion or speculation on the matter would not be tolerated.
It was then the grapevine placed Christine Chapel's interests in the First Officer's court, though from what Eric had seen the humorless Vulcan never seemed to give the blond beauty, or any woman on board for that matter, the time of day.
Unlike humans, Vulcans were extremely secretive about their sexual practices giving rise to myiad rumors and speculation. Hanson remembered the whispered nuendo and crude jokes during his time in the Academy. Among other things it was said that Vulcan males engaged in sex only once every seven years. Eric had found the stories hard to believe, although it would certainly explain a lot about the Esterprise's tight-assed Vulcan First Officer. Iguesswouldn't smile either if I only got laid every seven years.
After the first mission ended and the crew went their separate ways, Eric had been certain he'd never see Christine Chapel again. But it seemed the fates were giving him a second chance. She'd returned to the ship, with a newly minted medical degree and an air of self confidence which seemed to make her even more attractive. Their shared meal tonight had been convivial, each telling humorous stories about their lives in the Fleet. Their backgrounds and interests were surprisingly similar and when he'd causally mentioned meeting up during leave she'd seemed enthusiastic about the prospect.
The harsh beeping of the diagnostic sensors brought him back to the task at hand. He allowed himself one final thought about Christine Chapel and returned to his duties.