A/N: Apologies for length of time between updates. Unfortunately, I've suffered a family bereavement this week and haven't really been in the right frame of mind to write. However, my muse woke me up early this morning, and this chapter pretty much wrote itself. Again, I've based it as much around the movie as I could, considering I'm inserting a character that wasn't in the film. However it has become necessary to take a few liberties and tweak things here and there for this to work and make sense. In the main though, everything that happens with Christine occurred when 'the scene' was elsewhere. I hope you enjoy, please continue to read and review as I love to read your thoughts and comments.
There was definitely something to the opinion that tactile contact made an object or situation more real to a person. Christine Chapel was unintentionally testing the theory out, running the tips of her fingers along the corridor wall of the Starship Enterprise. Its smooth finish and the humming power conduit behind the wall panel sent a flush of tremors through her fingers and up her arm. Touching the wall somehow gave the ship life; and the reality that she'd been posted here was now inescapable to the young Nursing Cadet. To all intents and purposes, Christine Chapel was a serving Starfleet officer – whether she liked it or not.
Fearing a repeat performance of her panic attack back on earth, the nurse continued to walk along the corridor, dropping her hands down to her sides and holding her head high. She drew some solace for the movement, knowing that if she could just keep herself walking, she wasn't likely to collapse in a sobbing heap on the floor. Christine knew she would have to be professional now, as the medical team would rely on her to act appropriately at all times as a nurse. It wouldn't do to be collapsing into the corner every five seconds, or sticking hyposprays full of sedatives into her arm at any opportunity. She was a nurse now, and people were going to rely on her to ensure their health was the best it could possibly be whilst serving on board. Taking a deep breath, she picked up the pace of her walk as she headed to the turbolift.
I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.
The shuttle taking the Cadets from the Academy building to the Enterprise had arrived minutes earlier. The journey hadn't been without issue; James Kirk had gone from looking ill to positively deathly by the time they'd left Earth's atmosphere. As a medical student, she was duty bound to help Doctor McCoy if he required her assistance. In all honestly, she could probably make a case that the Doctor was involving her in activities that could potentially lead to a Court Martial and thus refuse to aid him. But her vow to do no harm as a nurse took precedence over concerns for her career. And if she was being completely honest, despite her newfound dislike of Kirk, it made her feel more uncomfortable than normal to see him suffering. Why she couldn't refuse a man like that spoke volumes about her taste in men, much to her own chagrin. However, that didn't mean she was about to do aid Doctor McCoy with good grace.
Thankfully the fates weren't totally against Christine today, as McCoy seemed to have the situation under control during the flight to the ship, and didn't call on her once during the journey. Unfortunately, that left Christine to her thoughts and that was never a good way for her to be. The moment the shuttle docked, the strawberry blonde had slipped off as quickly and as inconspicuously as possible. Now she was on her way to the medical bay where she was due to report to Doctor Puri, the Chief Medical Officer on board the Enterprise, and hopefully as far away from the schemes of James T. Kirk as she could be.
Stepping inside the turbolift, two male officers she wasn't familiar with stepped aside to allow her room in the carriage. Christine walked between them, moving so she could stand against the back wall of the carriage and behind the other officers. As was customary for Christine, she automatically dipped her head, readjusting the fringe of her hair to obscure her eyes from view. Even the way she held herself was an attempt to make her appear smaller, to be out of sight from her male colleagues. A more observant person would have noticed that the young woman clearly wasn't as comfortable in the company of unfamiliar males as everyone else, but that seemed to have slipped beyond her colleagues notice. What Christine anticipated could happen was probably as close to impossible as one could get, but that didn't stop the nurse from folding her arms protectively across her stomach as though she were trying to shield herself.
Perhaps trying to be friendly to the timid Cadet, one of the male Ensigns in the lift turned over his shoulder to face Christine, offering her a warm smile. With colour flushing her cheeks, Christine half-smiled and turned her head to the side in an effort to avoid eye contact. It was almost instinct for Christine to shy away from men, and she found herself desperately wanting for the turbolift to reach the correct deck where she could escape the gaze of the male officer in front of her.
Someone apparently was on her side today, as the lift came to a halt soon after. The doors swished open and the nurse practically ran between the officers to get out of the carriage. With her heart pounding in her chest, Christine slowed her speed and fell back into a walk as she headed to the medical bay.
Inside, the bay was a hive of activity. Several cadets Christine recognised were busily running around, shifting medical supplies, dealing with crew members ailments and performing the usual routine physical examinations. Christine recognised Doctor Puri by reputation and immediately made her way over. He was a kindly older gentleman, with a bird's nest of white hair haloing his head. Hooded lids hid bright grey eyes that missed nothing, and he spotted Christine's entrance even before she had made her way over to him.
"Excuse me Doctor Puri," she began, standing at his side as the Doctor organised a tray of medical implements in neat lines, "nursing Cadet Christine Chapel, reporting for duty sir."
The Chief Medical Officer grinned at Christine. "Ah, Nurse Chapel. Forgive the cliché, but I've been expecting you." From his pocket, the Doctor produced an electronic data pad. His thumb pushed several control keys, lighting up the screen with information. "Now, let me see. Ah yes, here you are. Chapel, Christine. Born in New Orleans in 2240 to parents who both worked as accountants. Attended Archer High School, graduating with perfect grades in all Sciences, including applied bio-chemistry. And when you were only sixteen years old. Very impressive my dear." The elderly Doctor winked over the edge of the pad. "Began a degree the same year in Bio-research, before switching to a career in Starfleet and settling into the main nursing programme in San Francisco. Did I miss anything?"
Christine shook her head. He had pretty much summed up her entire life in thirty seconds. Despite everything she had achieved by the age of eighteen, somehow it now sounded insignificant to be described by him.
"Good. Now that that's out of the way," with a grin, Puri tossed the date report over his shoulder where it clattered to the floor next to one of the beds, "I can welcome you to the Enterprise." Christine blinked in surprise, not sure how to take the Doctor's eccentric behaviour. The older man realised this and smirked broadly. "I'm a Doctor, not a computer technician. I don't believe a data report can tell me who you are as a person. And as I deal with people every day, I take them as I find them. I've heard a lot about you from your instructors, and I know you'll be a perfect fit to the medical staff. I'm glad to have you on my team my dear. I hope you're looking forward to your posting here, I can guarantee there will never be a dull moment on board!" He chuckled, exposing a toothy grin of crooked teeth. His laugh was warming and infectious, and Christine couldn't suppress her own smile. "Doctor Marsden tells me you have a real aptitude for the identification of viral diseases and their treatments. In fact, he thinks you'll make a wonderful Doctor yourself, if you chose to pursue that route. Has it ever appealed to you?"
"I've never really thought about it," Christine lied. It shocked her confidently she could do it, the untruths just tumbling over her lips as careless as they pleased. When had she become such a hardened liar? "I always knew I wanted to care for people, and being a Nurse seemed the best way to do that."
"There's nothing wrong with that my dear. And I'm certain you'll make a wonderful nurse too." The Doctor added a knowing smile. "But it doesn't hurt to keep your options open, either. I'd gladly support you if you ever decided you want to pursue a medical degree. If one did take stock in such things as academic reports," Puri glanced over to where date pad lay untouched, "they might question which you switched from bio-research in the first place."
Christine shuffled her feet uncomfortably, and Puri quickly continued, knowing he wasn't just hitting a nerve but taking a laser-scalpel to it. "But as I said, it doesn't interest me. As long as you work hard and fulfil the role, you'll get on fine."
She opened her mouth to thank the Doctor for his support, but the sound died in her throat as Leonard McCoy crashed through the doors with James Kirk hanging over his shoulder. He looked even worse than before, and Christine instantly felt for the command Cadet. Shaking her head for being foolish, she tried to conveniently slip into the background, but McCoy spotted her first.
"Nurse Chapel, get me some Diazepam for the patient!"
With an apologetic look to Doctor Puri, who looked highly amused, Christine moved into action. Grabbing a hypospray, she moved over to where the vials of medication were kept. Picking up the clear sedative, she slotted it into the silver hand-held device and headed over to McCoy. She risked looking toward Kirk, who looked terrible. Whatever McCoy had infected him with was clearly affecting him in a serious way as he looked ready to drop at any moment. It could be her nursing instinct, or even her slight attraction to Kirk, but Christine wanted to go to him and do whatever it took to make him feel better.
Get a grip Chapel, Christine frowned as her inner voice scalded her. He's got plenty of girls waiting to make him feel better. Just do your job and keep your distance. You know what happens when you get involved with men with more ego than good sense.
She handed the sedative to the Doctor, and heard Kirk yelp as the drug was delivered. He began a sentence, but was unable to finish it as he simply dropped back into a deep slumber. McCoy seemed relieved, and Christine heard Puri chuckling to himself as he moved through the bay toward another patient.
"Thank you nurse. Would you do me a favour?" McCoy caught her gently by the elbow, and all at once Christine knew she was going to be stuck with Kirk. So much for keeping her distance.
"Of course Doctor. What do you need?" She answered fearfully.
McCoy smiled wryly. "Would you hook Cadet Kirk up to the heart monitor and take his vitals? Then could keep an eye on him? He's got a nasty infection at the moment; I want to keep any eye on him whilst he's under the affects of the sedative. I'll need to prepare a more effective vaccine to the problem, and need someone I trust watching him so I can focus."
With the doctor laying compliments on thicker than wet concrete, she knew she was powerless to resist. "No problem." Nodding her head, Christine moved passed McCoy to Kirk's bed. The sedative had taken the action out of the Cadet, although by the looks of things he wasn't entirely out. He must have the constitution of a warhorse, as there had been enough sedative to knock a man twice his size out cold. Frowning, Christine considered pumping more Diazepam into Kirk, but decided against it.
The way he had collapsed onto the bed had left him lying at an awkward angle. One leg hung off the bed, as did his arms. Huffing, Christine pretended it was her Obsessive Compulsive tendencies forcing her to make it right. Deep down she knew it was more a desire to make the handsome command cadet more comfortable.
Reaching down for the leg, she lifted it up onto the bed, pretending that the firm thigh muscles beneath her palms were something other than delicious. Straightening his arms at his side, Christine took a moment to study James Kirk. How could the man look that irresistible when he was unconscious and filled with a virus? She felt guilty for being attracted to patient and a total idiot because that patient was James Kirk. If possible, his face looked even more appealing now that he was completely out of it. Every now and again, his lips would twitch and the sound of half a word would come somewhere from in his throat. Pressing the back of her hand against his forehead, Christine winced as she felt the obvious burning temperature he had. He was clearly very ill, and she wondered if making himself suffer in this way was worth getting on board the Enterprise.
Unable to help herself, Christine ran the tips of her fingers over Kirk's short fringe. It was damp with sweat and stuck to his forehead. Brushing it back from his face the nurse suddenly found herself stroking Kirk's face gently, and he groaned softly in a pleased response. Running the back of her fingers down over the line of his cheek and jaw, she blushed as Kirk turned his face into the contact, the hint of a smile at his oblivious mouth. Her thumb circled over his high cheekbone, before sliding over his clean shaven cheek. Licking her own lips, Christine traced the soft mounds of his. Just as she'd imagined, they were impossibly soft and full as they dipped slightly under the pressure of her fingers. She wanted to experience that softness fully, with his mouth pressed against her, kissing until her lips burned.
Instantly she withdrew her hand as though his mouth had burned her. What the hell was she doing? Practically assaulting a patient as they lay in a sedative-induced sleep? This wasn't her at all. Christine Chapel was a perfect student and a talented nurse. She was not a crazed, obsessive borderline pervert! Obviously, this change in her behaviour had to be the fault of Kirk. How dare he confuse her into acting inappropriately? Just as Christine re-avowed to stay as far away from Kirk as much the Enterprise would allow, the touch of his hand to hers snapped her back to the moment.
Even those his eyes were closed, his arm had slipped off the bed and his fingers had reached for hers. He held her hand gently and pulled it back to his face. He held her palm against his cheek, his face tilted to that the entirety of his cheek were covered by her cool skin. He moved the limb slightly, and just as the tips of her fingers reached his mouth once more, his serene blue eyes fluttered open again. Holding her gaze, Kirk pursed his lips a little, kissing the tips of Christine's fingers. Molten heat flooded like a river through her body, gushing to every inch of her body. Kirk planted gentle kisses on the tips of her fingers before pulling her hand away from his mouth. His eyes were hazy, probably more from the illness than the moment, and he still had hold of Christine's hand. If she were being rational, Christine would reason that Kirk was not in command of his usual faculties and probably didn't realise what he was doing, nor would he remember it later. But that didn't stop Christine from almost losing her legs from underneath her again. And more importantly, she couldn't bring herself to tell Kirk to stop; even though she knew what was occurring between them went against everything she'd learned in her training.
"Didn't mean...that I've been...with loads...of cadets in that way." Chapel winced, both at the rasp of his voice and the words that she managed to make out. The disease had gone to his throat apparently as his voice had lost its usual deep timbre and he been replaced with a dry scratch. "I... teach self-defence at the Academy. Meet...lots of...people. Hard to remember...names. Didn't want you...to have wrong idea...about me..."
Christine felt her face flush with embarrassed colour. Not only had she completely gotten the wrong idea, but Kirk had struggled to explain despite his condition despite clearly feeling terrible. Guilt hammered her consciousness mercilessly, and she quickly clasped his hand between both of hers. "Don't worry about that now. I'll get you something for your throat."
Kirk nodded, his eyes falling closed as he let go of her hand. Christine rushed from his bedside, reaching for another hypospray and a vile of medication. Her heart pounded in her chest as she struggled to fit the thin glass tube into the dispenser with trembling hands. Maybe James Kirk wasn't as bad as she'd allowed herself to belief. And even if he was a bit of a player, he wasn't exactly the only twenty-something to be enjoying themselves while they could. She wondered what it meant that Kirk had been concerned about her opinion of him. Surely it should not matter to her if he struggled so hard to set her thoughts right, but in reality she was secretly touched by it. Finally getting the hypospray prepared, she returned to his bed where his face was screwed up in pain.
Her stomach churned with a need to make him feel alright. With her free hand, Christine gently placed it on his throat. Just from a physical examination she could feel the swelling. Positioning the device at the pulse point of his neck, she hit the release mechanism that infused his bloodstream with a drug that would hopefully reduce the swelling. Stroking his brow softly, she leaned closer to him, lowering her voice to speak in a comforting tone as she took his hand in hers again. "Relax James. Your throat will feel better in a moment, I promise."
He nodded, eyes closed and a pained expression on his chiselled, handsome features. With one hand still in Kirk's, Christine reached over to tap in a set of instructions to the monitor that hung over his bed. It flared to life, automatically running a set of scans on Kirk and his health. An image of a human body outlined in yellow appeared on the screen which she focused on. In a second, Christine knew Kirk wasn't well. His temperature had soared higher than was really acceptable. Even worse, his heart was working too fast. It was pounding like the cadet was in a full blown sprint which shouldn't be if he was resting on the bed. He wasn't looking terribly good either, and Christine knew McCoy needed to be informed of the situation. "I'll get the doctor. I'll be right back."
"Stay. Please."
With his hand holding pathetically tight to hers, Christine waged an inner war. Every wall she had ever built around her emotions to keep herself safe from men like Kirk, and more importantly to be a professional seemed useless whilst he was around her. He appealed to her on such a basic level that Christine was beginning to think that she'd never be safe in his company. However she knew he needed real care from a real doctor, and her professional judgement won out.
"I'll only be across the room." With a squeeze of his hand, she tried to extract herself from his weak grip. Kirk seemed reluctant to let go of her hand, even though he continued to doze under the influence of the sedative. He finally let go however, and Christine quickly scurried across the medical bay to where McCoy was so she could get back to Kirk's side all the quicker.
McCoy looked busy in the laboratory section of the medical bay. Whilst he'd left Kirk to Christine's care, he'd been preparing a more potent vaccine based on the severity of Kirk's symptoms.
"Doctor McCoy," she began, "Cadet Kirk isn't doing too well. I've given him a dose of anti-inflammatory because his throat had started to swell because of the infection. However, based on my physical assessment and the preliminary scans, he seems to be deteriorating. I think you should take a look at him."
McCoy grunted. "Damn Starfleet and their antiquated tribunals. If they had any sense, they would have waived his suspension until this Vulcan mess was over with. We need men like Kirk on this mission, and I have to resort to infecting him with a nasty disease just to get him where he needs to be. I'm a physician, not an espionage specialist. It's barbaric!"
Christine smirked at the doctor analogy, hearing Puri saying something similar earlier. "What can I do Doctor?"
"Don't worry Nurse Chapel; I've already involved you in this far too much. I'll get another cadet to help me from here." McCoy turned to face her seriously, an exasperated expression on his face. Christine was no psychologist, but if her people skills were anything to make a judgement on, she would guess he felt guilty for a lot at the moment. Whether it was guilt for infecting Kirk, getting Christine involved in the first place or a mixture of the two, she really couldn't say. "I'll tell Puri how diligently you assisted me in Kirk's care, only I'd be grateful if you didn't mention how he contracted the illness in the first place."
She shook her head. "I won't say anything Doctor, don't worry." McCoy breathed a sigh of relief. "But I'd still like to assist you in the cadet's care, if you'll let me?"
"Are you sure? I wouldn't want to put you in an awkward position." McCoy loaded another hypospray with a created concoction for Kirk's treatment, keeping one eye on Christine. He was clearly intrigued now, wondering why Christine would willingly put herself in a knowingly difficult position.
"You wouldn't. It would be an opportunity for me to study the treatment of acute viral infection in a human patient in space. Besides, I'd rather save you the stress of avoiding explaining to another nurse why Cadet Kirk is ill, so you can get on with making him better."
McCoy smiled knowingly. He partly guessed why Christine wanted to see Kirk get better, but knew better than to make a comment on it. "I'd be happy to give you that opportunity Nurse. Now, let's see to curing another patient, shall we?" Looking past Christine, McCoy's face fell. Across the medical bay, he could see Kirk sat up in bed. In reality, the he had partially heard the broadcast of Chekhov informing the ship of the 'lightning storm' seen near Vulcan and was trying to will himself into doing something about it. "Damn hot-headed fool!"
Taking off into a jog, McCoy rushed to Kirk's beside, wielding the hypospray full of vaccine. Christine moved to follow, but he stopped her with a barked command. "Chapel, make me up some more of the vaccine! It's all there on the surface. Only increase the dosage of the muscle relaxant!"
Frowning, Christine halted and turned back to the laboratory section of the medical bay. McCoy had indeed left all the components out, along with a formula on the data pad nearby. She quickly set to work, deftly making up another batch enough for ten men. She partly wondered why McCoy had told her to do this, as normally nurses weren't responsible for making up vaccines in this way. Was it pure luck that McCoy had asked her to do it, or did he know more about her academic past in bio-research that gave her an insight into vaccines that rivalled most Doctors? It wasn't important at that moment however, and Christine snapped another vile into yet another hypospray.
Turning around to face the medical bay, she moved in time to see Kirk making a run towards and out through the door. The distressed looking McCoy was already chasing after him, glancing in her direction as he moved toward the door. "Chapel! Follow us! And get a stronger sedative from the medical storage bay! The patient is not co-operating and we need to keep him stationary for his own sake!"
Nodding, Christine broke into a run and headed out the door. McCoy had turned left and was chasing after the retreating figure of Kirk. Sending a concerned glance toward both men, Christine turned on her heel and sprinted to the right to where the medical storage bay was located. She was surprised at the depth of her longing to go straight after Kirk, but mentally stored it away somewhere when she could deal with it later. McCoy was relying on her to be professional and follow his orders, and she would not let him down. Something told her that this could be the beginnings of a successful professional relationship if she performed well today.
Besides which, Kirk needed to be slowed down and Christine would do whatever it took to make sure he did so. With deep felt sigh, she hit the security code on the panel to the side of the storage bay door and headed inside. Heading into the stacks, she quickly located a stronger combination muscle relaxant and sedative than the type they kept in the medical bay. It should easily have been enough to keep Kirk down. It seemed ridiculous that barely an hour into her first round of service in Starfleet and she was already reaching for the harder medication for a member of the crew. It seemed that so far, Doctor Puri had been right; there had not been a dull moment in the short time that she'd been on board.
And if Christine's instincts were right, before this mission was over, with there would be plenty worse to come her way.