Trekker: thank you, it's good to hear you have faith in me.
Lola: thanks so much, I'm so glad you think I did the first person well. Hope you still think so after this chapter. I'm not entirely sure if it will all be in past tense. I think parts of this chapter are present, and past tense is intermingled. But I honestly have no idea.
It happened after the Romulans were defeated, after we returned home. Jim was made a captain, Pike asked me to help him walk again, and Jim told Bones I was supposed to die. It wasn't until much later that I figured out that was why Bones had decided to hate me – and by then it was too late.
I couldn't make Pike walk again, at least without a cane; I guess I should tell you that. I tried so hard. I researched the means to do it, he refused more surgery unless the success rate was one hundred percent. Needless to say, there was nothing.
By the time Chief Sullivan called me to her office to discuss me going to London with our head neurosurgeon, it was a relief to get away.
We came all that way for nothing, or so Dr. Phillips presumed. The patient's synapses were crossed, my solution was to rewire them but Dr. Phillips refused; he said it was too "experimental." You wanna know the truth, he was too lazy to put in the effort. So I, being the head strong think I'm right about everything surgeon that I am, decided to go to the London hospital's chief and talk to him. We ended up staying, being assured we'd be payed and housed and given anything we needed until we were finished.
The sad thing, if I had let it go there's a chance nothing would have happened. We would have left Europe and I wouldn't have met John Harrison until he came aboard the Enterprise. But I was me, and though I try not to care I can't help it. I met the patient, I met his wife and their two children. And I couldn't let it go – I couldn't walk away without blaming myself for not doing something. Don't think it was just about the patient, I would have had a guilty conscious – I guess it was selfish.
Either way Dr. Phillips reprimanded me, yelled at me for having "the gall" to go against his orders. Who says that anymore?
But he assigned me the task of figuring out exactly what we were gonna do, while he did nothing. And then I would report back to him, show him what I found, and then if he liked it we'd approach the patient.
I guess that was the first night I met John Harrison. I was angry, frustrated that I was being punished for doing my job as a doctor. So I did what any person would do, I found a bar. I think I've figured out why he chose me now, I was still in my scrubs; and he wanted in the hospital.
I'm getting too far ahead of myself, you still don't know what all happened that first night. I was walking into the bar while he was walking out and I said excuse me. He moved around me, probably cast a look back to see my name, and then left. That was it. That was our very first meeting. It didn't last long enough for me to even realize he was handsome, and he was handsome. But somehow that's the moment it all started. It wasn't when I was being stubborn and refusing to go home with nothing to show – it was never about me. It was then, it was about him.
To tell the truth it was the third time we met that you really wanna hear about. But I'll tell you our second meeting first – at least what I remember of it. I had just given Dr. Phillips an idea, I don't even remember what it was that's how mediocre it was. I do remember his sneer, and that I wanted to punch him when he said I was proving to be worthless. If you really want to know, rewiring someone's brain is just about impossible. There's nothing conclusive to assure the patient of any options, let alone yourself as a surgeon. There was only ever one option, I just hadn't stumbled across it yet.
I'm pretty sure I told John all of that, including how Dr. Phillips was an arrogant jackass. I don't know what I told him after ten minutes of him sitting down beside me at the bar.
"I saw you here the other night," he said as a means of introduction. It was better than a pick up line, but I can't imagine him actually saying one of those aloud.
I turned to him and studied his face – this is where his being handsome crossed my mind – until I remembered. "You held the door open when I got here." He smiled, I guess pleased I had remembered him.
"And you didn't even say thank you," he said with a half smile.
I turned from him, fighting a smile of my own. If you've ever heard an english accent you would understand, at least if you're American. They can be beautiful. But his voice, a deep timbre that was almost a purr. I was charmed I guess, he could certainly be charming when it suited a situation. Perhaps I should explain more; I was the situation.
Somehow he convinced me to let him buy me a drink, one that would solve my problems for the night. He introduced himself, though I didn't remember his name in the morning. I don't remember anything after the first sip of my drink. He could have drugged me, it could have been a really strong drink, or I was already wasted and adding that made me black out. Either way I woke up alone the next morning in my hotel room wearing nothing. And it wasn't until I got into the shower that I realized how sore I was.
I don't want you to think he took advantage of me, I honestly don't know if he did – which means you don't either. Although you might think differently after I tell you of our third meeting. I was nothing but willing.
So I only got one person who said they were okay with M scenes. Next chapter can either be M or T, depending on the details you want. So if you have a preference please let me know, or else I just keep it T. (I would so not mind doing M though) Also, I'm trying to do her narration as kind of conversational; and a bit sarcastic in some places. But again, I have no idea what I'm doing with first person. So please let me know how you think I'm doing.