"I guess these shoes weren't exactly designed for roughing it." Christine Chapel conceded apologetically. She wriggled her ankle to pull the stiletto heel of the expensive shoes Nyota had insisted she buy from the soft ground.

"Yeah," Hanson agreed as he took an appraising look at the shoe, then allowed his gaze to travel up her long shapely leg. "They're not exactly Fleet reg, that's for sure." Hanson chuckled then offered his arm to help Christine regain her balance.

A soft breeze blew down from the hills above, cool and fragrant with cypress and pine. Eric removed his leather jacket and wrapped it around Christine's shoulders. "Thanks, I guess the dress wasn't designed for roughing it either."

"Probably not what the designer intended but you wear it well."

"I'm sorry about…you know all that mess back at the club. I've never done anything remotely like that before. I don't know what got into me. I can't imagine you were planning to waste your shore leave at the medcenter."

"Actually, it wouldn't be the first time I ended up in the ER during a shore leave."

"You're kidding?"

"What, you think you're the only one who can start a drunken bar fight? Well, I've never actually started one, but if someone messes with my guys I've got their backs. Although," he wrapped his arm around her, "I can't say I've ever had the guts to cold cock a Vulcan; that was pretty impressive."

"True, but seriously, how many times do you actually see a Vulcan in a bar? It sounds like a setup to a really awful joke…'so this Vulcan walks into a bar'."

"And says 'ouch'"

"Why would he say 'ouch'?"

"Because he walked into a bar, you figure that's gotta hurt right?"

"That's awful." She gave her companion a soft shove on his upper arm.

"You said it was the set up to a really awful joke."

"So I did, but I really am sorry to have spoiled your evening."

"I'm walking in the moonlight with my arm around a beautiful woman; I think this is the best shore leave of my entire life."

"This is it." Christine stopped at what appeared to be a sapling tree, but as she drew near he saw a small touchscreen appear on the side.

"There's a force field that comes on at sundown for privacy, and of course to keep the predators out. It certainly wouldn't do to have the Star Fleet mucketry mucks eaten by grizzly bears in their sleep. Seventeen oh one."

"Excuse me?"

"The passcode is one seven oh one, Nyota picked it, figured it would be easy to remember."

"But not very secure Lieutenant."

"Hey, if the bears can figure out the code they deserve a good meal."

"If I was a bear I think I'd save you for dessert. Let me get some more wood on the fire, it's starting to get a little chilly."

Christine snatched a small travel bag from beside her sleeping bag. I'd really appreciate that Eric. If you don't mind, I'm going to go change into something a little more suited to the untamed wilderness. There's a kettle and some bottled water if you want to make us some coffee."

Eric carried an armful of wood to the firepit, stacking the logs carefully until he was satisfied the fire was sufficient to last through the night. After filling the kettle he gingerly lowered the small cooking grate and positioned the kettle over the fire.

"There are some cups and instant coffee in the storage area under the table." Christine reappeared wearing a pair of faded jeans and a soft blue sweater. "I feel like Cinderella after the ball." She laughed as he handed her a steaming mug of coffee.

"At least you made it home with both shoes."

"And a prince too. Why don't we sit on my sleeping bag? There's some sort of heating element in the pads underneath, it is getting a bit chilly."

"It's so peaceful out here," Eric remarked as they seated themselves. "I can see why you chose it."

"I've always loved the outdoors, nature…I guess that's one of the perks of growing up outside of the grid. I think that seeing the intricacies of nature was what made me fall in love with science."

"I was eight years old the first time my family left the space station and came to earth to visit my grandparents. I was terrified of the outdoors, it all seemed chaotic and out of control, and the sunlight… I thought I was going blind."

"That's how I felt the first time I saw a transporter." Christine laughed. "We were standing in a long line and all I could see was that people would climb up to the platform and then disappear. My father's dig at the Roma Antiqua lost its funding when I was thirteen and he took a teaching position at the University in San Francisco. It was hard at first, getting used to the crowds and the noise…and the people were, I don't know more distant, less connected."

"I had an instructor at the Academy who believed that our increased involvement with technology has made us less human…less able to relate to others."

"Roger was obsessed with technology; he believed that the next wave of technology, would bring a seamless melding of man and machine."

"A human computer? I guess he never met a Vulcan."

"He didn't have much use for Vulcans…to be honest; he didn't have much use for any nonterran races."

"You'd be surprised how many people in Fleet feel the same way."

"I know, when Roger's friend Lance Cartwright would come for dinner the two of them would spend the whole evening going on and on about how the Vulcans were holding us back, and the Andorians couldn't be trusted, and how if we didn't destroy the Romulans and Kingons first they would destroy us."

"Lance Cartwright? Rear Admiral Lance Cartwright?"

"Yeah, he was Captain Cartwright back then. He and Roger were close friends growing up. He was very good to me when Roger was lost; in fact he was the one who got me the billet on the Enterprise when I found out they were going to Exo III."

"It must be nice having a friend in high places."

Christine shook her head sadly. "After Roger…when we didn't find Roger, Lance and I, well…we didn't really stay in touch. I don't believe he…approved of my career choices.

"Good heavens, how did we get on such a dreary subject? Your friends probably think you've been eaten by a bear."

"Knowing Riley, I doubt he's thinking much of anything by now." Eric laughed softly as he set his empty mug down on the ground beside him. Moving slowly he brushed his fingers through Christine's dark curls then every so gently pulled her face toward his and captured her lips in a long slow kiss.

Encouraged by her pleasured moan he moved his other hand around her gathering her in a tight embrace and boldly deepened the kiss. Christine found her own hands busy as they slid up his well muscled arms then down his the length of his back. She shivered as the cool evening air briefly brushed her lower back then warm gentle hands moved up underneath her soft cotton sweater. The pounding of her heart grew more insistent, drowning out the soft cracking sound of the fire.

"I've wanted this…" he whispered his voice hoarse and heavy with desire, "I've wanted you Christine… for so long."

Christine tensed, a hard tight knot beginning to form in the pit of her stomach. "I'm sorry Eric, I can't…" she protested weakly.

His kisses grew deeper and more insistent as he tenderly eased her onto her back, her protest giving way to the growing flame of physical desire burning between them. But the knot grew tighter and Christine struggled to find her voice.

"No Eric, stop!" Wedging her hands between them she gave him a hard shove. "I mean it Eric, get off of me!"

He moved off of her and she scrambled backwards putting some distance between them. Christine studied his face in the softly flickering firelight, a mixture of hurt and anger evident in his green eyes.

"I'm sorry Eric. I shouldn't have let things get that far."

"No I'm the one who should be apologizing Chris, that was really insensitive of me. You've been through a lot tonight; you're probably exhausted. Why don't we settle in for the night and get some sleep. Maybe in the morning we can pick up where we left off."

Christine pulled her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around her long legs.

"I really am sorry Eric. You're a great guy."

"I hear a 'but' coming."

"It's me Eric…I'm just not ready for something like this."

"Chris, I love you."

"Eric, you don't even know me.

"It's Commander Spock isn't it, this is about him."

"No! Well maybe," she sighed, "but not in the way you're thinking."

"You were using me to make him jealous."

"That's crazy. Vulcans don't feel jealousy, they don't feel anything. It's taken me a long time to finally figure that out." Christine pushed herself up off of the ground. "I really do like you Eric, you're a great guy with a lot to offer the right woman, and I'm just not that woman right now."

Eric scrambled to his feet, clearly agitated. "So that's it? You won't even give us a chance?"

"There is no 'us' Eric, how can I make you understand that?"

"Oh I understand Dr. Chapel, I understand perfectly."

Christine was suddenly anxious at the bitter rage in his voice. "Lieutenant Hanson," she said mustering her best command voice "I think it would be best if you leave now." Underscoring the command she picked up his coat and handed it to him.

"Gladly!" He responded as he slipped on the leather jacket. He turned away from her toward the path, then unexpectedly spun back around and seized the empty coffee cup.

"Thanks for the coffee." He said his voice like ice, as he slammed the mug into the firepit where it exploded into confetti like shower of cinders and ceramic shards.

Without another word he stalked off into the woods leaving a shaken Christine Chapel wondering how her life had become this nightmarish rollercoaster ride, and how on earth she was going to get herself back on solid ground.

Using some pieces of scrub brush from the kindling pile she fashioned a makeshift boom and swept the remains of the mug into the fire pit, then rinsed out the other mug and stowed away the coffee and water in the stasis box. She made a brief survey of the campsite. Everything appeared to be secure; Eric had built a good fire that would be more than sufficient for the night.

Christine flexed her right hand gingerly and checked her chrono. She was overdue for another dose of paid medication. Dropping down on her sleeping bag she fished inside her travel pack for her personal medkit. She filled the hypo spray with 5 ccs of percon, when the small vial of dormiene Dr. Walker had given her caught her eye. It had been a week since she'd had an actual night of real sleep. She wasn't on call, and from the way she'd seen Dr Waller and Nyota looking at each other it was unlikely that her friend would be returning before morning.

"If anyone deserves eight hours of uninterrupted sleep Christine Chapel it's you," she laughed as she added 20 ccs of the potent Deltan sleep potion to the hypo spray.

Grabbing a t shirt from her travel pack she climbed into the oversized sleeping bag and removed her jeans and sweater, rolling them up and placing them on the grass nearby. She burrowed down into the warm dark comfort of the down bag, curling up like a child returning to the womb. A curious sensation swept over her. She was lying on a warm sandy beach, the ocean tide washing over her, each gentle wave bringing peace, and carrying away her cares until all that remained was sweet oblivion.