Cherry on Top 3/4
By snarkypants
"What exactly is your problem?" Christine asked him; she might have been addressing the door for all the reaction she got. Spock continued working at his console as if she hadn't spoken. She wedged a hip in between him and the monitor, perching on the desktop, and he jumped back as if burned.
"I have no discernible problem, Nurse."
"I beg to differ, Commander. I'm accustomed to you avoiding me in public, but now you practically snarl at me before you disappear."
He cocked an eyebrow at her. "I am not responsible for your habit of reading hyperemotional subtext into every trivial interaction."
"No, of course not. So everything's A-OK, then, is it? You're perfectly fine?"
"Your need to elicit an emotional response from me is becoming pathological, Nurse."
"Kind of like your need to pretend you don't have an emotional response."
"I am Vulcan; we do not—"
"Half-Vulcan," she said, putting all the scorn she could muster into the clarification. "And you do plenty of things that full Vulcans don't do." Like me, for starters, she thought, putting her hands on her hips and sticking her chest out.
Given the way he averted his gaze, he had interpreted her use of the verb "to do" carnally.
Good. Fifteen-love, Chapel.
"I've made a lot of allowances for cultural differences, Spock, perhaps too many. You haven't spoken to me in days; how am I supposed to know you're still interested?"
He was looking anywhere but at her. "What gives you the impression that I am still interested?"
She snorted. "Other than you moping around like a betrayed husband? Not much."
That brought him up short and he clamped his mouth shut. "You are not the woman I thought you were," he said a moment later, his voice as coldly Vulcan as she had ever heard it.
"Which woman is that? The one who fucks you whenever you ask and doesn't complain when you ignore her? No, I suppose I'm not her; how very disappointing for you."
"You were dancing with Lieutenant Ramos," he gritted out through his teeth.
"He asked me to one stupid party; as Dr. McCoy would say, 'you gotta dance with them what brung you.' Not that it's any of your business," she added, an obvious afterthought.
"Which of us did you intend to deceive?"
"What do you mean, 'deceive'?" Her voice went up, ending on a particularly shrill note.
"Does he know about our… liaison?"
She narrowed her eyes at him. "I dunno, I thought I might save some surprises for the wedding night," she said in a dry voice.
He smoothed his uniform jersey. "In other words you meant to deceive both of us." He shouldered past her.
She sighed. "What would you like me to tell him? 'Oh, hey, Ted, by the way, Spock's been putting the stones to me every chance he gets'."
He turned, blinking at her. "'Stones'?"
"Testicles."
He made a moue of distaste. "Your coarseness is unnecessary."
"Yes, I know; I'm a coarse, grasping human slut. All we do is fart, fuck and fight."
He winced and she bared her teeth at him in an unpleasant caricature of a smile before heading to the door.
He was on her in an instant, holding her by her upper arms, squeezing.
"You're hurting me," she said in a flat voice.
His hands gripped tighter. "A Vulcan male is fully capable of killing a rival, and under certain circumstances, encouraged to do so," he said in a dangerously low voice, right next to her ear.
"Let go." She struggled against him, becoming frantic as her pulse began to beat in her fingertips.
"I will not be supplanted. Is this sufficient emotional response for you?"
His hands opened, releasing her. She stepped back, rubbing the blood back into her arms. They stood there, glaring at each other; well, she glared. He was stone-faced.
Her eyes began to burn with unshed tears; because she didn't trust her voice she opted for action instead. She swung her arm in a wide arc and slapped him hard.
He could have stopped her, she knew; he was quicker and stronger by far. Her palm left a hot, verdurous splotch on his cheek. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, and the mark slowly faded.
When he opened his eyes again, his expression was vaguely ashamed. "Christine… you have not expressed dissatisfaction with our arrangement in the past."
"That's because we don't have an arrangement; we occasionally fuck."
"You use that word too frequently."
"What, 'arrangement'?" she asked, widening her eyes in feigned innocence.
He gave her a level look in lieu of a response.
She made a derisive sound. "You wouldn't dictate the terms of my speech or conduct even if we did have an arrangement. Which, by the way, we don't."
"Did you fuck him?"
"Who? Ted?" Her expression was briefly incredulous before her features settled into an impassive hauteur that would have suited T'Pring far better. "That's none of your damned business."
The door hissed open as her words were ringing through the lab, and they both started guiltily. Captain Kirk entered the room with a wary expression, his gaze darting into the corners as if looking for an attacker. "Everything all right in here?"
"Yes, sir," Christine said. "Excuse me, Captain, Commander."
Kirk nodded. "Nurse." Christine left quickly.
"How can I help you, Captain?" Spock asked, somehow looking as perfectly composed as ever.
"I was, uh…" Jim grinned and shook his head. "I forgot for a second. What've you got on the geologic samples from our shore leave on Aquilae 12?"
"There was nothing unexpected," Spock said. "The readings match the sample studies to 96.8547 percent accuracy."
"Only 96 percent?" Kirk's look was incredulous.
"The equipment was calibrated to the wrong core density, Captain. It will not happen again."
"That's good to know," Kirk said. "Particularly since the equipment in question was designed to achieve 95 percent accuracy." He chuckled good-naturedly.
"My final report will be complete by 1530 hours, Jim."
Kirk waved him off. "No hurry. HQ has been pressing me, hoping that our surveys might have found a new source of pergium." Spock gave him a quizzical look, and he continued. "It's because of the levels of olivine in the surface samples."
Spock's brow creased. "That is an illogical conclusion; any correlation between olivine and pergium is inconsistent at best."
Kirk shrugged. "That's HQ for you. Hope springs eternal; I'll break it to 'em gently."
Spock nodded and returned to his console.
Kirk cleared his throat. "And speaking of breaking it to 'em gently…"
Spock looked back up at him. "Jim?"
"What's with you and Nurse Chapel?"
Spock's face froze and the customary warmth in his eyes faded. "Why do you ask?"
"My well-calibrated senses picked up on some minuscule levels of tension when I entered the room." Spock didn't react to that bit of understatement at all, and Kirk chuckled again, albeit weakly. "Forget it, Spock. None of my business."
Spock nodded, returning his gaze to his console yet again.
"But if you need to talk about it…"
"Thank you, Jim. I know where to find you." This was said with the finality of a Vulcan who had reached his jocularity limit for the day.
"You do that," Kirk said, and left the lab.