2. The Nurse – McCoy

He hadn't realised how fast he was walking until he realised Chapel had had to jog to keep up and appeared to be a little breathless. A nicer man probably would have slowed down. Well he wasn't a nicer man – he was an overworked, underappreciated doctor, and he would walk as fast as he damn well pleased.

"I knew the captain as a child." She was telling him. He frowned to himself and wondered why she was justifying herself. "Obviously I wouldn't have presumed to have said what I did-."

Good grief, did she really think he cared whether she spoke her mind or not? Hell, she could say whatever she wanted to Jim, as long as she didn't end up in his bed. "Well I'm sure it was a lovely reunion, nurse Chapel;" He interrupted; "But I really don't give a damn." She hung her head, and he felt suddenly bad, then annoyed that she had made him feel that way. She had only been here five minutes – she had no right. "What I do care about is the fact there is no staff rosta, I can never find a dermal regenerator when I need it, and most of the nurses seem to be inept. That, I take it, is what you're here for?"

"Yes doctor." Her voice was calm. There was no trace of hurt or anger. Well at least she wasn't going to be one of those sensitive ones that cried at everything he said.

"Good."

They entered his facility and he was relieved to see that it had at least remained in one piece since he had left. He could see nurses too – miracle of miracles. They must have overheard that their new commanding officer had arrived and wanted to get a look. Perhaps he might get lucky and they'd do some work now.

"There we have it, Nurse Chapel. The wonder that is sickbay." He said sarcastically. She turned to look at him and he felt his chest tighten. Damn – why the hell did she have to be pretty? He had seen her personnel file and she had looked more normal in it – not like this living breathing woman with large clear blue eyes and a soft face. He smiled ironically to himself. Jim wasn't going to be able to keep his hands off her – not when she looked like that. Just another mess he would have to clean up. Happy thought.

"There's a pile of datapads by the computer that I'm sure you find useful." He realised he should probably stop staring about now. "I'll be in my office if there's an emergency. Otherwise, have fun."

Feeling disgruntled, he left her to it and went back to the haven that was his office.

Two hundred and twenty-one psychiatric reviews later he was interrupted by a knock on the door and Nurse Chapel entered, looking calm and collected – like she had been walking in the country rather than battling a legion of unruly nurses. He felt old and tired when he looked at her. It occurred to him that he probably should have introduced her to the rest of the medical staff. Hell, he probably shouldn't have been so rude to her either.

"Nurse Chapel?"

"There's a crewman with a suspected concussion outside. You should take a look at him." She explained to him, serene and professional.

He was intrigued – the fact that she suspected concussion said that she had examined him first, and then decided to get him.

"A concussion? It's not Ensign Tsot again is it?"

"I'm not sure, doctor."

Usually he would have berated a nurse for not checking a patient's name before treating them – but he supposed it was her first day. He sighed and stood up, stretching his long-stationary muscles. "You'd better show me."

She led him out of the room and to the young man sitting on the edge of the bed.

He scowled. Typical. "Tsot! What did I tell you about sparring with a Klingon without a helmet."

"That I would probably receive permanent brain damage if I kept hitting my head so hard?" The man shot Chapel a worried look and she smiled at him reassuringly. She had a beautiful smile.

He grabbed a scanner. "No, the word I used was definitely, Tsot. The fact you haven't followed my warning tells me that either you're an idiot, or the damage has already began. Which is it?"

"We were taking it easy – I thought I would be ok."

There were a few query readings on his scan. He went over him again. "When have you ever met a Klingon that takes it easy? Honestly, one time, I'd understand. Two and I'd think you're unlucky, but five times Ensign? Even the Klingon must be getting bored of embarrassing you by now." He was certainly growing bored of treating him.

"Doctor…" For a second he thought Chapel was berating him for his manner, but then the woman was laying him gently back and his eyes rolled back and he began to fit.

"Damn, he really did hit his head too hard. Give me 100cc mannitol." The nurse picked up the drug without hesitation and fitted it into the hypospray. A glance told him that she had already organised the medicine cabinet. She certainly seemed efficient. His scanner blinked red, then died and he bit back several curses. He saw Campbell in the corner of his eye.

"Nurse Campbell, bring me a scanner that you've actually bothered to charge." Before this patient died because he didn't know what was wrong. He grabbed the scanner from the nurse with a glare – was he really asking too much? – and began scanning again.

"The brain hasn't herniated, but there's an increase in pressure due to the bruising." He said aloud, mostly to himself. His brainwaves were increasing. "And around he comes." The boy tried to sit up and he held him down at the shoulders. He wasn't going anywhere. "You're all right Tsot." He reassured him.

"What happened?" The man asked weakly.

"You passed out. But it's not serious." Chapel explained, gentle comfort in her voice.

He arched an eyebrow at her. How had she known it wasn't serious – or was she simply trying to reassure the patient? It was likely the latter. She had that angel-of-mercy look about her.

"I'll want to keep you for a few hours for observation, but I don't think you have any lasting brain damage. You've given it a bashing, that's all."

"I won't spar any more doctor, I promise." The boy looked dejected and Leonard felt slightly sorry for him.

"Bit late for that now, lad." He patted him on the shoulder as the comm. whistled. Typical. "McCoy here." He answered.

"Doctor, the captain would like you on the bridge." Uhura told him.

He didn't want to leave his patient – but he dreaded to think what mess the captain had got them into now. "Fine. On my way."

He turned and watched as Chapel pulled a blanket over Tsot and began to attach the neural scanner. She looked calm and self-assured, and it brought him some degree of confidence. She was sensible – she would comm. him if anything serious happened. She looked up, realised he was watching her and calmly came to meet him.

"Monitor his blood, and watch him closely for any change in consciousness or vomiting. I might have to drain some CSF if the swelling continues." He explained to her.

"Yes doctor." She nodded, looking unfazed. Finally – a nurse who knew how to nurse. He picked up a medikit – he had a bad feeling he would be needing one – as she asked: "How long will you be?"

He chuckled – the woman really didn't know anything about this ship yet. "Depends on the mess the captain's got us into this time. I'm the only sane one on that bridge, and the captain knows it. You'll hold the fort here?"

"I'll have to." She sounded slightly irritated and he glanced around the room. The other nurses were working in what seemed to be an organised way – he supposed Chapel had a hand in that – but he wouldn't trust any of them with a dermal regenerator, let alone a patient. She was all he had.

"Yes, you will." He murmured, and left for the bridge.

"What's going on?" He asked as soon as the door slid open. Good grief, they were still docked. How could they be in trouble whilst still docked?

"Ah Bones, there you are. We recently received a message from the Tellerite delegation on Earth. Apparently they've lost two of their ambassadors on Romulus and were wondering if we could help find them."

The doctor frowned. A new mission was all very well, but they were still at least 24 hours from going anywhere and he couldn't understand the sense of urgency. "I see. Isn't Romulus two days away?"

"Forty-three hours and six minutes at warp." The Vulcan corrected him. "However, we have reason to believe that the ambassadors are no longer on Romulus."

"Well then where are they?"

"Lieitenant Uhura intercepted a Romulan transmission – apparently the ambassadors managed to escape and steal a shuttle. The Romulan authorities are chasing them down – although why we don't know."

"The Romulan rules of etiquette are quite complex. Perhaps an ambassador broke one. They have quite primitive ways of dealing with law-breakers." Spock postulated, and he rolled his eyes.

"Well, when we find them we can ask them."

"And how exactly do you plan on finding them – seeing as the ship is out of action?" He asked the obvious question.

Jim grinned. "Well for once, rather than going to them, they seem to be heading straight for us!"

McCoy sighed. He should have known. "And how many Romulan ships are chasing them?"

"Sensors indicate three, although the distance is considerable and several more may be out of range." The Vulcan answered.

"I see. And what's the plan?" He didn't doubt Jim had one. It was almost undoubtedly foolhardy but probably brilliant in a way that only Kirk could be.

"Well, we're in Federation space are we not – so we should be able to grant the Ambassadors refuge."

"And what happens when their ship is destroyed before they get to Federation space?"

"Well Scotty's found a way of boosting the tractor beam so we can hurry up the process somewhat." Of course he had. Scotty and the laws of physics were acquainted but tended to keep out of each other's way.

"The Romulans may not take kindly to us harbouring their fugitive, Captain." Spock said.

"Our weapons will not be online sir." Sulu also pointed out. "And our shields will not be able to take the combined fire of three Romulan ships."

Jim smiled assuredly. "Don't worry – they're not going to fire at us. The Romulans are still embarrassed about the Narada – and they're walking on tip-toes around the Federation. They don't want to trigger a war – especially one which they couldn't win. There's no way they'd fire on our vessel. You agree, don't you Spock."

"The logic is sound."

"I hope you're right Jim, because three starships suggest to me that their desire for the ambassadors may have compromised their good sense."

The captain gave him a look which he didn't find altogether reassuring.

It took thirteen hours for the vessel to limp into range for the tractor beam. He would have returned back to the sickbay and caught up on some sleep since it was clearly not going to be a quick process, but he seemed unable to move from his position as the ship grew steadily larger on the viewscreen. The waiting was always the worse part.

The vessel had sustained heavy damage from Romulan fire and was not responding to hails. Spock assured them that life signs were still present on the ship, but he grew concerned that the ambassadors were seriously injured.

"We'll have to beam them aboard Jim. If they're not injured, they soon will be, the way that the Romulans are going at them."

The captain nodded. "Agreed. How long until we can get a transporter lock on them, Mr. Spock?"

"At current rate of motion, another sixty minutes."

"How long until the Romulans catch up with them?"

"Twenty-two minutes, Sir."

"See if Scotty can do anything to boost our transporter power."

"Yes sir. It may be wise to sever our tractor beam before the Romulans are in firing range. A direct hit may be transmitted to the Enterprise."

"Understood. Let's make sure we get them off that ship."

Ten minutes later Scotty's voice was on the comm. "Sir, I've boosted transporter range with everything I've got but it's no use – our system isn't familiar enough with Tellarite physiology to lock on."

"Could you transport two humans across the distance?"

"Of course – easy peasy."

"Good. Bones and I will transport across to the shuttle and will try to boost their signal."

"Yes sir."

McCoy frowned at his friend but knew better than to protest the evils of transporter travel – it was hardly like he had a choice – not when the Tellerites might die if they didn't beam across. He followed the captain to the transporter room, and managed to keep his face impassive despite the bile rising to his throat as the captain signalled: "Energise."

He opened his eyes to destruction – life support was holding but the lights were out and the ship was lit by fires, their smoke almost overwhelming him.

"Give me a hand Bones." Jim shouted, and he grabbed an extinguisher from the wall and began to join him in putting the fires out.

"Where are they?" He shouted, when he had managed to catch his breath.

"We're in the hull. I assume they were flying this thing. Come on."

He led him down a narrow passage and into the cockpit. Both beings were slumped unconscious against their consoles. He scanned them as Jim continued to tackle the fires.

"How are they?"

He frowned. It had been a long time since he had worked on a Tellerite, and he was struggling to remember their physiology, especially under such conditions. "Not too serious, as far as I can tell. They're even more susceptible to smoke inhalation than humans. See if you can boost the oxygen on the environmental controls."

He began pressing buttons and McCoy attempted to boost their haemoglobin count. The ship was hit by a blast that threw him from his feet.

"Damn Romulans." He picked himself up as the computer told them that the shields had just failed.

"Kirk to Enterprise. We have the Tellerites but the shields have failed. Hail the Romulans tell them there's Starfleet officers aboard."

"Understood captain. Standby."

An unhappy picture filled the viewscreen – the Romulan ships were closing on them fast, despite the tractor beam.

"It's going to be tight, Jim." He muttered as the Tellerites began to show signs of consciousness.

"I know Bones, I know." The captain was tense. McCoy knew he would have been pacing had he the space. The doctor kept his mind on his patients and tried not to think of their impending doom.

The communicator whistled. "Kirk here."

"Captain, the Romulans are not acknowledging out hails." He scowled. As predicted, Romulans revenge outweighed their good sense.

"Understood. Beam us off this ship."

"Yes sir."

They waited several breathless seconds but remained aboard the shuttle.

"Kirk to the Enterprise. What's the hold up?"

"Scott, sir. The transporters have shorted – we've been putting a lot of extra power through them."

"Well I suggest you fix it promptly, else you'll be retrieving our bodies."

"Captain, they're charging weapons." Spock's voice interjected.

"Scotty, get us off this ship." Kirk shouted.

The comm. went dead and they looked at each other.

McCoy couldn't help but chuckle. "Well Jim, you sure got us into this one. In all the ways I thought I'd die, whilst still docked wasn't high on my list."

"We shouldn't have beamed over here, should we?" The captain looked rueful.

"We had no choice – not if we wanted to save them." He answered truthfully.

"And they'll survive?"

"If we do."

Jim grinned at him, the spark back in his eyes. "Well, we'd damn well better then." He flipped open the communicator as they saw the photon torpedo – a dot of red light – fly towards them. "Enterprise, I suggest you ENERGISE."

He grabbed the Tellerites. The dot grew larger and larger on the screen – there was a flash of light – then he opened his eyes and he was on the transporter pad. He was very proud his knees didn't give way.

The Tellerites were in a heap on the floor. Jim caught his eye and grinned. Trust him to feel exhilarated by such events.

"I suppose you should go play doctor, Bones. You owe me some healthy Tellerite ambassadors."

"I suppose you should go play captain, Jim. I imagine there's some unhappy Romulan ships that fancy taking a piece out of us."

The captain laughed, slapped him on the back, then all but ran to the bridge. He suddenly felt very old.

The security team helped him get the Tellerites onto stretchers and they carried them to the sickbay – which was some feat since the beings weighed about the same as baby elephants.

Nurse Chapel was still there when they entered. She raised her eyebrows when she saw what accompanied him but asked no questions. She calmly instructed the personnel on how to lift the ambassadors on the beds, then set about giving orders to nurses and preparing examination tools for him. After his experience on the ship, he found her professionalism was relaxing and he worked on the Tellerites with a clear mind as she wordlessly assisted. As much as he tried to ignore it, he had to admit she was a damned good nurse, perceptively handing him the tools he needed, keeping the other nurses busy and seeing to the bruised security staff with a gentle smile.

Jim came in a few hours later boasting three broken fingers and looking worse for wear.

"Let me guess, you tried to pick a fight with a Romulan captain?" He frowned as he straightened and mended the phalanges.

"He started it. Why invite me onto his ship and then not be willing to negotiate?"

He rolled his eyes. "You hit him because he wasn't willing to negotiate?"

"No, I hit him because he was rude to Spock. And Uhura. Who could be rude to Uhura?"

McCoy refrained from reminding him that he was on a regular basis. "Well, the Federation are sure going to think twice before sending you on diplomatic missions."

Jim grinned. "Not at all. We still have the Tellerites and the Romulans are gone. I think that's a success don't you?"

"What did you threaten them with?" Jim gave him a look. "Actually don't tell me, I don't want to know."

"That's probably sensible. Now where's Chapel?"

"Watching over the Tellerites. Why?"

"Because I'm willing to bet her touch is far gentler than yours."

He imagined that was true, but was not going to risk testing that theory for the captain's amusement. "My touch is the best that you're going to get. I thought she told you to leave off her?"

"Well she says one thing…"

"Let her alone Jim."

"We have history you know?"

"She said." He said dryly. "Now go and get some sleep so you can get us into another ridiculous situation tomorrow."

"Admit it Bones, your life would be dull without me."

"Dull perhaps, but I'd be far more likely to live to a ripe old age."

"Now there's a terrifying thought." He yawned. "All right, I'm off." He sauntered out, winking at Nurse Kier who giggled.

McCoy walked to his office through the now quiet sickbay. Damn he was tired. It occurred to him that Nurse Chapel was still there and should be dismissed. He leant against his doorframe to hold himself up and watched as she discussed something serious with one of the nurses. There was no denying it, she really was beautiful, even with the dark circles that bruised her eyes. He realised that she must have worked a double shift, and that she would have been on a flight before that. He looked more closely and noticed the way she was leaning against the wall, how pale she was, how her hands were trembling. He was familiar with those signs. Damn, the woman was going to work herself to death on her first day.

She looked up at him and frankly met his eyes and he realised that he had been staring again. He was going to have to watch himself in the future – it would look bad if her senior officer was forever gaping at her. Obviously he was tired - he wasn't usually swayed by a pretty face.

"Come in, Nurse Chapel." He ordered, noting her frown as he entered his office. He indicated her to the chair opposite him and took his own but it seemed too formal. "Do you want something to drink?" He asked her. After today, he certainly did.

She shook her head. "No. Thankyou." He wasn't particularly surprised. By the look of it she was the sort of woman who rarely let her hair down.

He poured himself a Ferengi rum and met her eyes. She didn't look pleased to be there. He supposed he probably hadn't made a particularly good first impression. Now he knew the sort of nurse she was he realised that had probably been a mistake. He could use a person like her on his side. Well, it was too late now. He would just keep her there long enough to check she was all right. He could hardly have her collapsing on the way to her quarters, after all.

"How did you know that Tsot was about to fit, Nurse?" He asked her. That had intrigued him – there had been no warning readings on his scanner.

"I could see it in his face sir."

"See it in his face? An instinct?" He'd never met a nurse with that good instincts before.

She shrugged, unwilling to commit. ""Some call it instinct. I like to think I simply have enough experience that I'm able to recognise the signs quicker."

That was a good answer – which suggested she had been asked the question before. He wondered what her last CMO had thought of that ability. He would have to look up who it was and see if that explained her reserved behaviour.

"I see. Well you did well." She was unmoved by his praise. "You sent him home?"

"Yes. His intracranial pressure dropped, he had no more bouts of unconsciousness and his bloods were all normal. I gave him a hypospray for the headache."

She knew her protocols too. Interesting. "Good." He noticed she was frowning at him, as if she was trying to work him out. Then she suddenly smiled and slumped forwards.

"Damn." He pulled the scanner off his desk and placed a hand on her forehead. "And that was what I thought was going to happen." She was hot to the touch, and her blood sugar was way below baseline. He gave her a shot of adrenaline and she came to quickly, pulling herself back to sitting quickly and staring at her hands. He smiled at her face – she looked mortified. He would have put an arm around her if it wouldn't have been deemed unprofessional. Instead he turned and gave her time to collect herself.

"I'm fine." He voice was calm but weak as he packed the scanner away. It was a lie of course – he was a doctor and knew full well that she wasn't fine.

"When was the last time you ate, Nurse Chapel?"

"A long time ago sir." At least she told the truth.

He pulled an apple out of the bottom drawer. He usually kept them from Jim – he had a habit of eating apples when they drank together in his office. He threw it across to her.

"Eat it."

"It's ok, doctor. I was just going to my quarters now anyway – I'll get something then."

Damn – why was she arguing with him? "Nurse, you're not leaving this office until you've eaten it, so less arguing and more eating."

She met his gaze squarely, and for a moment he thought she was going to protest again, but then she bit into it. He frowned at her – unsure whether he was disappointed that she had given in so easily. But that was ridiculous of course.

"Is the sickbay usually like that?" She asked him.

"You mean the madness?"

"I mean the lull and then the storm. I thought that we were still docked for repairs – so why did Tellarite diplomats end up on the ship? And how?" Her voice was getting stronger and her blue eyes were becoming more focused.

He wondered whether he should tell her of the events of the day. He realised that he wanted to – that was strange in itself. However he decided against it. She had had enough for one day.

He sighed. "Best not to ask questions when Jim Kirk is the captain. He's brilliant, but the man could attract trouble in the great void."

"I see."

"You probably don't, but you will." He watched her eat the apple and tried not to focus on her mouth. The circles under her eyes disturbed him somewhat and he realised that he was feeling responsible for her exhaustion. Well that was idiotic – he hadn't asked her to stay longer. Nurse Simkins would have left him to it, irrelevant of the situation. "You didn't have to stay beyond your shift, Nurse."

She frowned at him as if he had said something offensive. She certainly was not Nurse Simkins. "There was work to be done, and none of the other nurses seemed to have the experience to work on Tellarites without supervision." He had to admit she was right, and he couldn't deny the helpfulness of her presence, as much as he wanted to. "Besides, you're still here are you not?"

"I'm the head doctor on the Enterprise. I'm never off duty."

She nodded in response – as if she understood what that met. The sat and considered one another for a moment. He had a very bad feeling that he was swimming out of his depth – those blue eyes made him want to trust her and he had only known her for a few hours. He was not the sort of man who trusted easily, and he wondered if she was completely human – perhaps she had some Betazoid ancestry? That sort of information wouldn't be in her file. He would have to find some excuse to scan her again.

"I read your paper on neuroregeneration." The woman said, and he idly wondered whether she was trying to impress him with her familiarity of his work.

"That was a long time ago, nurse."

"Have your views on it developmental potential changed?" Good grief, this woman really did not know how to relax. Did she really want to talk about this now?

"No. In fact, I can honestly say that I haven't considered the potential of such procedures since joining Starfleet. People tend to die quickly here – none of the slow and drawn out deaths that would require the use of neuroregenerative procedures."

"But there is so much we haven't encountered yet, so how can you assume that you would never need it? And surely such treatments could be expanded if effective to take in more acute damage, such as comas caused by head injuries?"

Damn. He really didn't want to have this conversation now. He had enough criticism hanging over his past research without added to it. However, she was looking at him so directly that instead of saying this he found he asked the one question that had been playing on his mind about her.

"Is it true about your role in the Narada disaster? How you flew the ship and saved those people?"

The woman sighed, and a look of pain passed across her face that made him instantly regret asking. "Admiral Pike's version is accurate Doctor. But I'm a nurse, not a hero. I was just doing my job in the worst circumstances." He understood her response, and admired her for it. So she had turned down the medal. Fascinating. "With your permission doctor, I would like to get some sleep now, if there's nothing else?"

He found he wanted to continue speaking to her, to work out more of her personality, to decide whether the inkling he had about whether she was still suffering from the effects of the disaster were anything more than that; but she needed to sleep. "No Nurse. You did well today, but I don't want to see you in the next twelve hours. Is that understood?"

"Yes sir." She stood, and he realised that she was looking him over.

"If I may say, Doctor McCoy, you should probably get some rest too. Before we hit the next crisis, that is."

It had been a long time since any one had looked out for him like that. He found himself smiling at her. "I'll be sure to, once Doctor Zuvolt gets here to relieve me. Goodnight Nurse Chapel."

She returned his smile with her gentle one, and something in him tightened. "Goodnight Doctor McCoy."

She shut the door quietly and he put his head in his hands. Damn. This wasn't good.