Chapter Five: In which Camille injures herself - again - and has some philosophical thoughts about adventure, Karina has a bit of a run-in with our favorite...Vulcan (sorry to those of you who thought I was going to say Russian), and Bones is a precious, flustered human being, among other things.
I kind of like this new "in which..." thing. Can you guys tell? :) Also, I love reviews! Seriously, if y'all like it, tell me! On that note, shout out to Welcome to the New and Howling2themoon, my two most regular reviewers! You guys make me happy!
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Camille lovingly patted the detonator, Juliet Harper looking on and shaking her head. Cam glanced up at her friend who stood above her, Camille's kneeling position making her even shorter than Juliet's five-foot-nine-inch height. Rising, she straightened, but still couldn't even come close to within six inches of her friend.
"What's with the look?" Cam asked, and Juliet shrugged.
"Just wondering why I haven't received a save the date yet. With the way you were looking at that thing," she said.
Camille laughed and climbed up on the railing next to them. The two girls stood on a balcony overlooking the rest of the weaponry and engineering lab. It wasn't too high of a balcony, but just high enough that Camille got a thrill from sitting on the edge.
Juliet didn't choose to join her in sitting, but rather leaned up against the railing and glanced out over the other cadets milling about below them, going about their business.
"Not much exciting's happened since January, has it?" she asked, a touch of longing in her voice.
Camille scoffed. "If you call nearly getting killed exciting," she muttered.
Juliet gave her a look. "Now you just sound like Bones," she replied. "The Camille I know would have totally agreed with that statement. I think you did find it just as exciting as I did."
Camille thought on the matter, readjusting herself on the rail. It was a bit farther out over the floor below than was normally safe, but then again, Juliet had a point. She was right, Cam did agree with that statement. Excitement, near-death situations, that was why she had joined Starfleet. Of course, only near death. Not actually dying, preferably. A good, long life was on her to-do list, though there was no guarantee of that in the job description.
Suddenly, she felt her hold on the rail loosening. Camille tried desperately to maintain her balance, but the slippery fabric of her red skirt did nothing to help, and she found herself falling through the air.
"Born to fly" was not a term she would have used to describe herself in this particular instance. Landing hard ten feet below, she felt a pain in her wrist. Captain Richards hurried up to her, shaking his head.
"It's been eight months, Osbourne," he said. "I was beginning to think you'd up and amended your ways."
She grimaced in pain, cradling her left arm in her right. "Well, Captain," she said, "once a walking disaster, always a walking disaster, I guess."
He held his hand out. "Let me see that wrist." After examining it thoroughly and gently probing in areas the spasms of pain shooting up her arm made Camille wish that he hadn't, he pronounced, "Better head down to the med office, Cadet."
She nodded. "Yes, sir."
Jim sauntered up to her. "You planned that, didn't you, young woman?"
Camille gave him her best "mom look."
"I am a whopping five years younger than you, Jim," she said. "Call me 'young woman' again, and you'll be singing soprano for a week."
Giving the involuntary wince most men produced when she delivered that threat, he nodded. "Okay, okay, you win. But I still say you did that on purpose."
"Why on earth would I break my wrist on purpose?"
Jim flashed her a glimpse of those pearly whites. It really wasn't fair, how perfectly white his teeth were. "Gives you an opportunity to take time out of your day and visit with our friend the good doctor, doesn't it?" he asked, and then waltzed off before she even had a chance to argue.
Camille smiled to herself. Well, she wasn't going to complain about that part, that was for sure. There were some perks to being a walking disaster.
And just then, she found herself really looking forward to an impromptu rendezvous with Bones. It might take her mind off of her uncharacteristic response to Juliet's question. Because deep down, she really wasn't sure she wanted more of what Juliet called "excitement."
Speaking of her friend, she glanced up at the balcony and caught her waving down at her. Affecting what she knew would be an intimidating glare, Camille called up, "No excitement, huh?"
Juliet was unfazed. "Hey, I told you it wasn't like you to be so cynical about adventure. It would appear the universe agrees with me."
Camille grinned and headed for the door. It was going to be great to have some time with Bones. They hadn't hung out, just the pair of them, since they'd gotten back to the Academy. In fact, she'd been hoping for just this when she'd walked in on Jim and Bones' conversation about Karina's dad.
She frowned. Sometime, eventually, she'd need to call the nuns. She didn't care if Karina didn't think she had time to look into it. The kid needed to know her past, and Camille was determined she would.
"Cadet Bartowski," the instructor called from the front of the room. "May I speak with you for a moment?"
Karina lifted her eyes from the assignment in front of her – translating Vulcan, Romulan, and Orion transmissions into English – to look at her instructor. Commander Spock exuded intimidation in the classroom. Karina took a deep breath and stood, walking to where he stood.
Spock was full Vulcan in appearance, but for the one thing that gave him away – his human eyes. Their depths seemed to envelop Karina in the darkness of space every time she caught herself looking. Not that she was attracted to her instructor. Far from it, but there was something about Spock that innately drew her to him. Karina felt that, if not now, one day, she and the half-Vulcan commander might share a kinship. It wasn't a feeling she relished, however. The only kind of kinship they could share would come from a shared pain.
Because half the time she just wanted to rip the man's head off.
He was facing away from the rest of the class. Eyeing her out of his peripherals, he said, "As first officer on the USS Enterprise, Captain Pike has seen fit to inform me of this deal he has struck with you. I have advised him against it, as I intend to advise you now."
Karina lifted her head slightly. When talking to senior officers, she tended to lower her face a tad in submission, but there was nothing submissive about what she was feeling. And Spock seemed to be able to see right through her. Already after a week of being back, he'd lectured her on the downfalls of emotion and the merits of logic. Why he was so concerned about her thought process and emotional tendencies, she had no idea.
As it was, her lifted face practically screamed defiance, she knew. It would bother Spock, certainly. Here she was, sassing an instructor. Sister Rebecca, her primary caretaker back in the abbey, would faint, and Jim's uniform would be bursting its buttons right about now. She stared him right in those human eyes and tried to probe for Spock's earthling side.
"As an instructor in xenolinguistics for the past three years, I would remind you of the foolhardiness of this venture," Spock told her, and any hope she had that he even had a drop of human blood in him flew out the window, along with her intention of ending this conversation before it started. "You, with your vast knowledge of language, should know how difficult it is to learn a new language. A year or so will not be nearly enough for fluency, which is what the Captain requires."
"With all due respect, Commander," Karina reined in the sass evident in her tone, then continued. "I don't understand why this is so important to you. Why does it matter to you whether I try my hardest to get on the Enterprise or not?"
Spock looked briefly uncomfortable. "I am merely attempting to advise you on the most logical option, Cadet. Which would be to simply select another vessel to serve on. Why should it matter to you which ship you are assigned to?"
Karina, instead of showing her discomfort as Spock did, set her jaw and stared him square in the face. Where this defiance was coming from, she wasn't quite sure. But it felt good, immensely satisfying.
"I would like to remind you, Commander," she began, her voice low, "that I helped stop an invasion earlier this year. If not for my friends and I, this Academy would probably be a hole in the ground. I believe that gives me just as much right to choose my assigned vessel as someone whose only accomplishment is to be top of the class."
His human eyes hardened at the last comment, and she allowed her jaw to slacken a little. Had she gone too far this time? Why did she ever open her mouth, for goodness' sake?
The tone sounded, indicating the end of the hour and the class. Spock appeared to come to himself, and once again all trace of emotion cleared from his face.
"Dismissed, Cadet," he said, and she stalked back to her desk, her heart rate elevated and her steps quicker than usual. Gathering her things, she glanced at her written-out schedule. Just two more classes. After that, she had a half hour to get her teaching materials ready.
How dare that stuffy, egotistical Vulcan try to talk her out of this? Her mind was made up, and nothing would change it. That position on the bridge of the Enterprise was hers. No way would she let herself be separated from Jim, Camille and Bones. After the painful reminder she'd received of the first time she'd lost a family, she wasn't about to let this one slip out of her grasp.
Trying harder to walk out of here with some grace, not let her gait show her annoyance, she shot a silent retort back at Spock.
You think I can't do this? Challenge accepted, Commander.
"I was beginning to wonder when I'd see another injury off you," Bones said as soon as he clapped eyes on Camille in the doorway, cradling her wounded wrist.
"I don't think it's as bad as – " Camille began.
Bones shook his head, which surprisingly had the power in and of itself to snap her mouth shut like a crocodile on a zebra. Holding his hand out and motioning with his fingers, he pulled her into the clinic like a magnet, and she didn't dare resist. It was kind of mesmerizing. But Camille prided herself on keeping a cool head, and she pushed the thoughts away as she placed her wrist in his hand.
Bones eyes widened.
"Woman," he said, looking up at her. "What did your wrist ever do to you? Or, more importantly, what did you do to it?"
Camille looked sheepish. "Would you believe I fell off that railing in the lab on the balcony?"
"What were you doing on the railing, out of curiosity?"
"Well, there was no place else to sit, Bones. What choice did I have?" She smirked, knowing her answer, and lack of regard for safety, would press his buttons. He groaned and rolled his eyes to the sky.
"I believe it," he said. "I believe it far too easily. Dammit, woman! You're going to kill yourself someday. You'd think you'd have more regard for your own life after…" He trailed off, afraid he'd offended her. Trying to keep up a brave face, he went to the cabinet and collected the necessary tools for setting her wrist. But he couldn't hide much from Camille. Standing with his back to her, he set the equipment on the counter and remained still for a long while, bracing himself against the metal surface.
Camille debated going over to where he was, then stopped herself. She needed to keep her wrist supported, and if she was next to him, she would feel compelled to touch him in some way, some comforting way. No, here she'd stay. But she was utterly confused.
"Bones, what's wrong?" she said. "You didn't offend me, not at all. But that can't be all that's on your mind. Tell me."
When he didn't respond, not in the slightest twitch of his shoulders, she added plaintively, "Please."
Bones shook his head and turned around, his professional manner back. "Never mind. It's complicated. Let's get back to the matter at hand."
Camille narrowed her eyes. "Leonard Horatio McCoy, don't try to pull that 'it's complicated' crap on me. I'm not leaving this clinic until you've told me what's – "
Bones nearly dropped the sutures.
"How did you find out – what – HOW DID YOU KNOW MY MIDDLE NAME IS HORATIO, WOMAN?" he demanded.
Camille smiled, far too pleased with herself. "When we were in Pike's office back in January, I sneaked a look at your file. I've been waiting for the proper time to utilize this knowledge."
Bones stared at her, utterly speechless. She loved rendering him to a stuttering schoolboy. It contrasted rather nicely with the usually confident, snarky exterior he presented. Camille liked to think she was the only one who could bring it out in him. This, this right here, was what hid under Leonard McCoy's hard shell.
And she adored it. Come on, it wasn't that often she could call Bones adorable. And she was okay with that. Some girls were into adorable. Not Camille. She preferred the confident snark. Much more entertaining, at least to her, but they were also the most fun to bring down to this level. He did look pretty adorable right now, trying to formulate the words that wouldn't quite come out.
Finally, after a long time absent, his deep, Southern voice permeated the room again.
"You – you've known this entire time?" he asked. "For the past eight months?"
Cam brought the smirk back. "Affirmative, Doctor," she said. Holding out her injured wrist, she continued, "Now…back to business, if you please, sir?"
Bones, still dumbfounded, set her wrist in general silence. As soon as the process was over, he stepped back as though to give her room to step down. She didn't, however. She'd be staying until another patient came in. She was injured. Excuse enough to take the rest of the day off, right?
Leaning against the counter, Bones folded his arms across his chest and stared at the linoleum floor for a few moments. Then he raised his storm-cloud gray eyes to hers.
"Camille," he said, "if you breathe a word of that to Jim, I will bribe Karina into letting me into your room while you sleep and inject you with a dose of anesthesia right before a final."
She raised an eyebrow. "Kari's way more scared of me than she is you, Bones."
"I didn't say threaten her," Bones said. "I said bribe her."
Running with the opportunity to have a sass battle, Camille shot back, "Because the Southern gentleman would never threaten a lady, naturally. Am I right?"
He laughed. "You think you're so clever, don't you, Cam?"
"I am so clever!" she gasped, putting a hand over her heart and faking offense. "Anyway, what would you bribe her with that would get her to risk a pounding?"
Bones snorted.
"Thanks to you, I'm pretty sure that kid can hold her own. And if I told you that, you'd have power over me. And her. No thanks, I'll keep my ally." Bones' expression turned a bit more serious. "How is she doing, by the way?"
Cam shrugged. "Better than she was originally, I suppose. She wants to get to the bottom of this. Find out how her parents really died, and who killed them. But she insists she doesn't have time for such an investigation. I think I'm going to call the abbey for her. Just see what the nuns know."
Bones frowned. "Are you sure that's wise?"
"Worth a shot. I mean, I don't expect them to give out personal information to someone they've never even met and who bears no relation to the ward whatsoever, but still – "
"No, Cam, you're missing my point," Bones said, holding up a hand to stop her. Once again, her mouth snapped shut like a trapdoor, and she bit back irritation at herself. What was wrong with her?
"Do you think Karina will appreciate your…interfering?" Bones asked. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he winced. Bad choice. Bad choice. Awful choice of words. Camille stared at him for a moment, her hazel eyes looking almost blue. But it had nothing to do with the lighting. It had everything to do with the fact that she looked ready to shoot daggers through his skull.
"Interfering?" she asked, rising up off the table.
Bones attempted changing the subject. Since when had this woman struck such fear into his heart with her anger?
"Isn't it about time we got a cast on that break?" he asked, nonchalantly whirling to fetch the necessary materials.
Camille grabbed his shoulder tightly in her right hand and spun him back around. For such a tiny thing, she sure had strength.
If he hadn't been so worried about what was about to come out of her mouth, he might have found it comical how she was obviously coming down off of tiptoes, having to stretch up to reach his shoulder. But at the moment, he was bracing himself for a tongue lashing, and the concept of humor was beyond him.
"Interfering?" she demanded. "Is that what you really think - ?"
"CAM!" Bones exclaimed, seized by a sudden impulse and grabbing her by the shoulders. Both of them experienced odd sensations as soon as he made contact. Bones felt electricity shoot through his fingers, up his arm and into his chest, Camille felt a fluttering sensation in her stomach.
Shocked that he was still standing, Bones continued, "I'm just saying, she may not really want to know right now. In that case, wouldn't it be better if you just stayed out of things?"
Seeing his logic but still refusing to believe it, Camille shook her head. "No, she really wants to know." When he gave her a look, she glared. "I've lived with her for a year, cowboy. I think I can read Kari's emotions. Her desires. She wants to know, more than anything. Quite frankly, she needs to."
She sensed their argument was over and held out her wrist. "Now, why don't we get a cast on this thing before I injure it any further?"
Bones narrowed his eyes. "Didn't I just say that a few minutes ago, woman?"
Shaking her head, Camille smiled and walked back to the table, pushing herself up with her uninjured side. "Did you? I didn't hear."
His exasperated groan only added fuel to her fire. This visit was proving to be just as interesting as all of her others, and only promised to get more so. Good. Cam needed a good sass-off with Bones to take her mind off the monotony that had settled into her everyday life since January. Not that she was complaining about the lung condition going away. Far from it. But it had at least kept her on her toes.