May 4:

"Graze on my lips; and if those hills be dry, stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie." -William Shakespeare

Inspired by and dedicated to Lyricoloratura. You know I love you. (And happy anniversary.)

Things had been crazy in Sick Bay. Not that crazy on Jim Kirk's ship was anything new. But this may have gone past even their standard version of crazy. What with away teams being pursued by angry natives and emergency beam-ups directly to sick bay and Dr. McCoy contracting the Kriosian flu, Nurse Chapel had had no time to tend to necessary, personal chores. Like laundry. She couldn't recall the last time she'd had the opportunity to send her underthings to the laundry. Or even rinse them out herself. Working double shifts and squeezing in a few hours of sleep left no time for laundering.

That morning her alarm went off far too early, surely only minutes after she had gone to sleep. She finally stumbled out of the shower and over to her dresser, rummaging through the top drawer. Pushing aside slips and pajama tops and a bathing suit she didn't remember buying, she discovered that there were no panties. None.

With a resigned sigh, she opened the second drawer, the "only in emergencies" drawer. It held tattered remains of what were once perfectly acceptable pajamas, a slip with only one strap left, and one, solitary pair of underwear. She stared at those remaining panties, stunned. She thought she had thrown those away years ago. Really – what were they doing back in her drawer? To her dismay, the lone survivor in the emergency underwear stash were these - flimsy pink and white vibrating remote-control panties, not that she had purchased, but that she had gotten years ago as a gag gift at a friend's bridal shower.

A quick glance at her clock was all it took to persuade her to pull on the panties. What difference did it make what their intended purpose was? They were fairly modest for all their suggestiveness. And the controller was long since lost rendering them harmless. It was wear these panties or none at all. And since the Neanderthals responsible for designing the Starfleet nurses' uniforms had never bothered to ask a working woman what her uniform needed to look like, not wearing underwear was in no way an option.

After drying her hair in a flash, she hurried to sick bay, sure she could get coffee from Dr. McCoy's dispenser. He was recovering in his quarters under the watchful of the Captain and most of the Command Crew. In rotation. So the dear doctor could only grouse at them individually.

She quickly became immersed in the slightly chaotic routine of the sick bay, listening to Dr. M'Benga tell the technicians what needed to be done first; dispatching her nurses to take care of the patients in order of necessity; checking the charts from the overnight shift to make certain that everything was in proper order.

It was just over an hour after the start of her shift that there was hard, sharp jolt to the ship, everyone losing their balance momentarily until gravitational controls were reestablished. As they were regaining their feet, another jolt disengaged the artificial gravity for several seconds, long enough for those not holding on to a solid object to float practically to the ceiling. It was not surprising to anyone when each of the airborne crew landed with a thud.

Controlled chaos erupted. The medical staff was swiftly checked over for injury, bumps and bruises the most serious conditions. M'Benga demanded from the Bridge to know what had happened and would it continue to occur? Commander Spock, in his typical calm fashion, informed them that they had been briefly under attack but their assailant had been destroyed.

The rest of the conversation was cut off when injured crew began to filter in. Broken arms. Fractured ankles. Concussions. Broken ribs and clavicles. M'Benga prioritized the injured, dispatching Christine to recovery room 6 where the largest bone mender was housed. She would work on the legs. Other nurses would use portable osteogenerator to mend arms and ribs and smaller fractures.

The first patient entrusted to Christine's care was one of Scotty's engineers, that cute Lieutenant Erick Orlens. He was trying his very best to be brave but a fractured tibia hurt like hell. No use pretending otherwise, she assured him as he climbed onto the biobed, aided by one of the technicians who then hurried out to help someone else.

Erick lay down and closed his eyes, trying to remember to breathe.

"I know it really hurts, Erick," Chris soothed as she moved the mender over the fracture after scanning his leg. "It will be healed soon. And the doctor will be able to prescribe a pain reliever as soon as he reviews your records."

He nodded beneath the arm he had flung over his eyes, not trying to talk, saving his breath.

"Okay. I'm going to start. You're going to feel some heat. But that's natural. And let me know if it starts to feel like too much," Christine said.

He nodded again.

Wishing there was something more she could do than take his hand into hers, she started the bone mender. The moment she pressed the switch, she gasped. Oh dear gods. Activating the mender had set off her… dear sweet lord. Her panties were…oh dear gods. The frequencies were the… ohhhh…. exactly…uhmmm….the ssssammmmme.….

"Nurse Chapel," Erick was saying, trying to take his hand back before she crushed his fingers. "Christine. Are you okay?"

She looked down at him with huge eyes, her breathing uneven and shallow. "Uhmm…" She swallowed, fighting back the waves of sensation that started between her legs and coiled out through the rest of her body.

Had she known that this was the effect to be had by wearing vibrating panties, she might not have thrown out that controller. And now she had a very urgent problem to solve. In the name of all that was holy…what was she going to do? There was no possible way to ignore the fact that the entire world was distilled down to what was happening inside those innocent looking panties.

She couldn't leave sick bay. She couldn't take them off. And she couldn't turn off the mender. Sweet saints above. Erick was staring at her in a mix of awe and terror. She wondered briefly how many regulations she would violate by joining him on the biobed. Or joining with him.

She could not stop a slightly hysterical laugh from bubbling up and out. Erick's eyes got even wider although she didn't think that could have been possible. "I'm sorry," she finally gasped, giggling even though she knew it was entirely inappropriate. "I'm sorry."

All Erick could do was stare up at her. Her cheeks were bright pink. Her eyes were huge. And her hips…should they be moving like that? He was pretty sure the only other time he had ever seen a woman's hips swivel like…that was when they were….well, uhm… "Nurse Chapel?" he said again, unconsciously licking his suddenly parched lips.

She continued to giggle, unable to stop as hard as she tried, her hand over her mouth in an effort to stifle her laughter. And it was with a guilty start that she looked over at the door as it opened to admit Dr. M'Benga. "Doctor," she laughed.

"Christine," he responded, looking only at the padd in his hand. "How it's going, Erick?"

"A lot better for Christine than for me," he said slightly breathless.

M'Benga looked up from his padd, staring at Erick before turning his attention to Christine, who was trying very hard to look professional and to stand still. She was pretty sure she had doubly failed. "Christine?"

"I'm…uhmm…sorry, Doctor. I need to ….uhm…excuse myself… temporarily," she said, giggling despite herself. "The mender has been activated for…uhm… two minutes and…." She could not finish. She could not speak. All she could do was stand there in front of them, quivering while pretending that the panties had not just done what they were designed to do. And she really hoped that all the moisture her body produced would not short them out and electrocute her. That would be a hell of an injury to try and explain.

But at that moment, she didn't much care about any of that. Because she remained in the room only physically. Mentally she was some place altogether different. And she really really liked it there.