Chapter Eight: In which we find out some more about Bones, and Karina is frustrating - to both us and Chekov. (Don't get me wrong, I love the girl. But was I practically screaming at her as I wrote this chapter? Yes.) Actually, better way to sum it up: In which everyone is slightly immature - including the "mature" adults. Yay! Oh, also, more vagueness about the past. As always. :)

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Disclaimer: I owneth not: Star Trek and our beloved Dr. McCoy, the soon-to-be Captain Kirk, or Mr. Chekov. Only Camille and Karina belong to me.

"How much longer do I have to wear this thing?" Camille asked. Growled was more like it, actually. Bones swallowed the trepidation that only this woman could bring out in him and gave her what she called his "doctor face." Apparently the overall impression it gave was, I am in charge here and no one can question that. If you do, I will use some of these fine tools just lying about this room on you. Got that?

"You have to wear it," he replied, "until I say so. Now let me see."

Camille rolled her eyes and held her wrist out.

"It makes working more effort than it's worth," she complained. "And it's starting to smell. Kari walked in yesterday and thought we had something rotting in our fridge."

"Mmm-hmm," Bones replied, trying to appear concentrated on his task at hand. Noticing no such smell, he asked, "And did you, pray tell?"

Camille looked sheepish. "Well, yeah."

Bones nodded, saying, "I'm not entirely surprised. With that pigsty of a room you two keep, I'm not shocked."

"Did you just call my room a pigsty?" Camille snapped, her voice dangerous.

Taken aback, Bones frowned and removed his hands, holding them up and stepping back. "Rough day, was it?" he asked, everything he was thinking evident in his tone.

She sighed and closed her eyes, regretting her outburst. Or two. "I'm sorry," she said. "It's just…I've tried calling the abbey and getting ahold of the nuns at least five times today. Each time their secretary just says, 'The sisters are not authorized to give out personal information for their wards, former or present. Thank you for your call.' And then the woman hangs up on me! I thought nuns were supposed to be benevolent. And helpful. I mean, they were in The Sound of Music."

Bones raised a brow and went back to his examination. "Well, there's always one bad spot in every establishment on earth. Every corporation, every occupation, every person. We all have our blemishes."

He felt her eyes on him, and did not enjoy the sparks it sent through his being when she asked, "And what about me, cowboy? What's my bad spot?"

He attempted to formulate an answer, but, as usual, the woman's suddenly gentle prising had turned his tongue – and evidently his brain – to mush. When the door opened, he thought he was saved from answering, but bit back a groan when he saw it was Jim.

"Jim," Camille said, and Bones detected a trace of something in her voice. Was it relief? Why would she be relieved at the sight of Jim? Did he make her uncomfortable or something? Pull it together, McCoy!

"Hey," Jim greeted her, then turned to Bones. He frowned. "You feeling okay, Bones? You look like you're about to lose your lunch all over Cam's lap."

"Lovely image," Camille muttered. "If he's right, would you kindly face the other way, doctor?"

"Dammit, I'm not sick," Bones growled. "And as Cam just so aptly put it, I'm the doctor here, Jim. Yet with the amount you've been inquiring after my health lately, you'd think you were the one with medical expertise."

Jim shrugged and took a seat in a chair, straddling its back. "Hey, just checking. Last I looked, that was what friends do." He turned to Camille. "What put the burr under the cowboy's saddle this time?"

Bones shot him a look. "Call me 'cowboy' again, Jim – "

"What? It's okay for Cam to do it but not me?"

Camille was smiling for some odd reason. Did she find Jim cute or something? Yes, that was it. That had to be it. Bones turned to face Jim, folding his arms across his chest. Not even he could understand what he was doing. If he didn't know better, he'd say he was guarding his territory, but that was, of course, ridiculous.

"Seriously, what happened to you?" Jim asked. Bones got the distinct feeling Jim wasn't talking about just today, but the past few weeks as well. Dammit. He'd noticed.

"Bones here just informed me of his belief that everyone has some blemishes somewhere," Camille said. "I was just asking what he thought mine were. I think I caught him off guard."

Jim snorted. "Well, for one thing, you can't cook."

Camille fake glared at him. "Hey, I can make some mean popcorn, buddy. Seriously, guys, I'm actually curious. I wouldn't mind working on some of these things. What would you say is my biggest flaw?"

"Just one?" Jim asked. Bones shot him a glare and Cam's fake one became real in a flash. Jim cleared his throat and added, "Bones first, then?"

Bones stared at Camille, as though taking her face in and memorizing it would give him inspiration. It wasn't working. It was just convincing him more and more that she had no flaws. That was unsafe thinking here. He let his eyes drift toward the wall, then brought them back to Camille. He figured when he delivered a blow he might as well look her in the eyes.

"You can be a little rude sometimes," he said. She nodded, taking that rather well.

Jim, however, wasn't about to let this go without adding in his two cents. "You're also prone to bad language."

Cam and Bones both swiveled to look at him. Cam said, her voice baring just the slightest trace of incredulousness, "Like you aren't?"

"Hey, I don't cuss around kids, at least!"

"So I'm not a kid, then?" came a new voice from the door, and Karina joined them, pulling a chair up next to Jim.

"Not a little kid, anyway," Jim amended. "What about you, Kar? You room with her. What do you think of Cam?"

"Seriously?" Karina asked, eyes wide.

Bones nodded. "Flaws. List them."

After thinking for a few minutes, she said, "You use insults quite a bit when we're pretending to argue. And actually arguing, now that I think on the matter."

Camille was looking less and less like she wanted to hear their opinion, but she muttered through her teeth, "Go on."

Bones was starting to feel genuinely concerned for not only his health but Jim's and Karina's, as well. Even so, he continued. Hey, she'd asked. "You're damn difficult to understand at times, woman."

"Isn't that just women in general, Bones?" Jim quipped.

Karina smacked the back of his head. "Watch it, mister."

Rubbing the sore spot, Jim added, "You can also play devil's advocate in a lot of situations, Cam."

Camille threw her hands up in the air. "Name one instance."

Karina put in, "Every single time I come to you venting about a decision I need to make. Every. Single. Time, Cam. Oh, I have one. Sometimes you use your strengths the wrong way."

Camille's mouth was set in a tight line. "Example please, kiddo."

"Well, you have this incredible fighting spirit," Karina explained, seemingly not scared at all. "But you don't tend to channel it the right way. It's either arguing with Bones and Jim or, I don't know, injuring yourself on a regular basis and recovering quicker than anyone thought you would. There's other ways you can let out your anger, Cam. Like teaching me self-defense, that was a good one. Or putting it into work or something."

"Or firing on an attacking vessel when you get assigned to a ship," Jim offered.

Camille nodded. "See, that one I actually find reasonable. That was good, Kari."

Bones stared at the young girl, who had faced Camille's wrath unflinchingly and come out on top. "How?" was all he could manage to ask, making helpless gestures with his arms from Camille to Karina and back.

Karina shrugged. "I've lived with her for a year, Bones. It's a survival instinct by now to not show fear."

"Okay then," Camille said. "Enough of the bashing on Camille session. I want to see," she leaned forward, her green-blue eyes reminiscent of the Mediterranean Sea nailing Bones with an ice cold stare, "what we all think of Dr. McCoy here."

Bones frowned, then, realizing what she intended, full on glared at her and gave a halting laugh. "Huh. That's entirely unnecessary."

"Nah," Jim said. "I'd be interested here, too. I'll go first."

"Dammit, Jim!" Bones said. "If I go, you're next."

"Seems a fair price. In fact, this is good. We're figuring out what irritates each of us about the other," Jim said.

"I'm sorry," Bones growled. "When did I sign up for these therapy sessions?"

Karina raised her hand. "I'm in," she said.

Bones rolled his eyes and leaned back against the counter, his arms folded across his chest and sending that glare around at all of them. "Fine. Go ahead, Jim. What's my biggest flaw?"

"Sometimes you refuse to take responsibility for things that you obviously have a hand in," Jim replied.

"Wow. Had that bullet in the chamber, didn't you?" Karina muttered.

"Oh, please! Like you're one to talk," Bones retorted. "I'm going to echo Camille here and say, example?"

Jim thought on it for a moment, then said, "Okay, your divorce. Actually, your marriage. You consistently act like the victim here, but you say she showed signs of being a psychopath before you were married, right? I understand the woman almost murdered you in your sleep, Bones, but you didn't have to marry her, you know. Actually, why did you? I'm curious."

Bones' face was set. "Now that, Jim, was not part of the equation. You have to justify your answer, not me. Especially if I don't agree with you."

"Um, question?" Karina, who had been growing steadily more uncomfortable during this part of the exchange, raised her hand tentatively. "Not that I didn't enjoy razzing Cam a little, but what is the point of this?"

Camille sighed. "Kid does have a point, I guess. I'm sorry I started this, Bones." She hopped down off the table. "Come on, Kar. Let's head back to the room."

The girls filed out. Jim rose to follow, somehow sensing he was no longer welcome, then he turned back. Bones wasn't even satisfied to see the grim look on his normally less-than-serious friend's face. What he didn't expect to hear were the words that came out of Jim's mouth.

"You know, I am sorry that I put it the way I did, Bones. I didn't have to be so blasé about it, I guess. But I'm not sorry I said it. I want to know…did you know she was psychotic before you married her?" Jim stayed in the doorway, but Bones had put up an unreadable mask. Jim shook his head in frustration and made to leave again before Bones' voice made him pause again.

"She was pregnant, Jim."

Slowly turning about to look at Bones again, Jim wasn't shocked after the lack of emotion in the man's voice to see that similarly reflected in his expression. Complete unreadability. And that was almost freakier to Jim than an angry Bones. At least when Bones was angry, it was only a couple of steps up from his normally cranky demeanor.

"And was it yours?" Jim asked quietly.

Bones shook his head. "No," he said. "But, unlike the scumbag who knocked her up, I actually decided to do the right thing here."

Jim shrugged. "Sounds like she deserved it from what you've told me."

"No, not for her," Bones snapped, and Jim was instantly back in his comfort zone. "I did it for the kid, Jim. No child should have had to have just that woman raising him. I did the right thing for her baby. Not in a million years did I do it for her. Someone who didn't seem too choked up about me breaking things off with her wasn't worth my time to make an honest woman of, if that was what you were thinking."

Something wasn't quite adding up. "Wait," Jim said. "So you have a kid? How have I not heard about this? Where is he now?"

Bones' head dropped and he muttered, "She, Jim. It was a girl."

The silence after that comment told Jim everything he needed to know. He headed back for the door, sensing Bones was done with friendly company for the day.

When the girls' unlocked door slid open to reveal Jim standing there, the first thing Karina did was leap up off her bed and make an announcement to the room:

"I would like to just state that there will be no yelling, at anyone, over what happened back there," she said, fixing Jim and Camille with a glare that was getting close to being intimidating. The kid was learning a few things from Camille. Jim was almost impressed.

"Yeah, Jim may have been the one doing the talking, but Camille, you were the one who instigated turning the conversation around to Bones. From what it sounds like, Bones started the whole affair, and I went along with it without questioning it. Therefore, we all get 25% of the blame. And are therefore good," Karina concluded, sitting back down on the bed and turning to the book she'd discarded. "Now, Jim, should I get back to reading, or do you have something to say?"

Jim pulled her desk chair out and sat down in his typical backwards fashion. "You might want to listen to this one, Kari. It has to do with our investigation. I had a bit of a breakthrough trying to call the abbey today."

Both girls sat up a little bit straighter at that news. Karina asked, "You mean your investigation about my mom and dad?"

Jim gave her a look. "No, my investigation about whether Admiral Archer really is an avid hula dancer in his spare time. Yes, your parents, Kari."

She smirked. "Point taken. Stupid question. Go on."

"So, I was trying to get through to the nuns, right? Well, the secretary is, of course, giving me her normal shut-down speech. I tried flirting with her, but turns out she's a proselyte. Didn't take too kindly to my advances."

Karina giggled at that one. "I remember her. Yeah, she would have torn you apart were you actually face to face. Something about respecting her holy calling or other."

Jim scoffed. "Who said anything about face-to-face, Kari? The woman was tearing me to shreds over the phone. Anyway, she was in the middle of her tirade when suddenly I hear this voice on the other end and she goes silent. Then this older woman is on the phone with me, asking what business I have prank calling God's holy institution."

Karina nodded, grimacing. "The Reverend Mother. I apologize in advance."

"So, I explained to her that I wasn't prank calling, I was just investigating for a friend what circumstances had brought her to the abbey. But as soon as she heard your name, Kari, there was silence for about two minutes. I asked her if she was there a couple of times, but right before I hung up she told me I couldn't possibly know what I was dealing with and I needed to stop calling this number and abandon any search I was on."

Karina sat there, frowning. "But that makes no sense, Jim. Why would she…they never acted like I was different from the other wards…"

But her voice trailing off signaled to the others that she was uncertain of her answer. Her face was screaming thought, a million thoughts whirring past behind her eyes. Finally she sighed, turning to Camille.

"I'm going to admit it, I did think this was a bit of a crazy venture at first. Figured we wouldn't come up with anything. But you know what? You guys might have something here."

Cam shot her a look reminiscent of Jim's earlier one. "Might?"

Karina rolled her eyes. "Okay, okay. You do have something. But at the moment, once again, I really don't have time – "

"Kari," Jim said. "You're the only one they'll speak to, if they speak to anyone. You can't just ignore this, can you?"

A small smile crossed her face before dissipating just as quickly. She looked down at her hands lying in her lap. A few seconds passed, then she raised only her eyes to him and said, "You know, that's not the first time you've asked me that."

Jim smiled, remembering the same conversation they'd had last year, when she hadn't been sure whether to let the Romulan signal that foretold the end of Starfleet go or look further into it.

"Look how well that one worked out," he told her. "Miss Bridge-Position-on-the-Enterprise."

Karina's head fully snapped up at that one. She raised her index finger as though silencing him.

"Not for sure, James. So shush. And secondly, yeah, it went well. True, we all almost died in the process, but I guess we lived and Starfleet is still a thing." She was enjoying drawing out her verdict. She knew the other two wanted her to get involved in their quest to find the cause of her parents' death, and it was positively delightful to watch them anticipate her response. But, when she thought about it, she did truly want to find out the answer. Curiosity was her greatest attribute – and, admittedly, sometimes her biggest flaw. And this was her past.

So what held her back? In all honesty, she was scared. Terrified of what she might find out. But that hadn't stopped her last year. It wouldn't stop her now.

"I'm in. I'll call them just as soon as I find some time."

Jim glanced at her book. "What do you call now, Kari?"

She glared at him. "Jim. This, right here, is called studying. That's what people do when they actually care about getting promoted."

He tilted his head, affecting an innocent comment. "And yet, of the pair of us, which is currently a lieutenant and which is an ensign?"

She glared at him. "If you can't be nice, you can get out." A smile softened the comment. "And for the record, I'm only still an ensign because that's all I can technically be until I'm eighteen. You just have the benefit of years, old man."

Camille snorted. "Never thought you'd hear that at twenty-four, right, Jim?"

Jim stood slowly, pretending every inch upward pained his back. Pressing his hands into the small of his back and faking a stretch, he said in his best old man voice, "Well, kids, I better get to bed. These old bones aren't meant to be up this late."

"It's four in the afternoon, gramps," Camille said, throwing a crumpled up wad of paper at him. She'd been working on her lab report for the past hour or so, and had to constantly restart. None of it sounded right, and she was a bit of a perfectionist.

"I know," Jim called as the door began sliding shut. "It's way past this old-timer's bedtime."

Karina shook her head, laying the book aside and taking out her bag. Lately it had strictly been serving for her teaching escapades. She'd need to get another soon. Lugging her class books around was getting bothersome.

A week had passed since her first meeting with Pavel, and he was picking up the basics of the Standard language really quickly. Karina, however, was doing her best to keep this particular thing on a business level. If she allowed it to escalate to friendship, Camille would know. And the woman had just stopped bugging her about boys. It had been a welcome relief to not be smirked at every time they walked past a male even mildly in her age range.

Plus, this was the best way to get things done quickly and efficiently. Pike hadn't said to make friends with each other. That was not part of the equation.

Too bad, really, she thought. Under different circumstances, she thought they could have been pretty good friends. Jim, Bones, and Camille were great. They were her family. But Jim and Bones were both grown men, and while Camille was still a teenager too, she was nearing the end of that time, and a legal adult. And, quite frankly, there just weren't that many teenagers at Starfleet. It would have been nice to have a friend around her age.

"Hey, how's the teaching going?" Camille asked, snapping Karina out of it and reminding her of the task at hand – hiding certain details from her for as long as possible.

"Good," Karina replied.

"That's the most I get?"

"Uneventful," Karina said. As soon as Camille shrugged and turned away, she winced. Well, it wasn't entirely untruthful.

Okay, something was definitely up with Karina. And for the life of him, Chekov couldn't figure out what it was. She'd been perfectly friendly for their first meeting, but after that, for the last two sessions, she'd been not exactly rude. Just kind of cold. Not that he wasn't used to cold. He was Russian, it was an occupational hazard, literally and figuratively. But this was a bit ridiculous.

Not the fact that she was holding him at arm's length. What was ridiculous was the fact that it bothered him so much.

Today, however, not only was she being overly businesslike, she also seemed slightly distracted. Finally, his impulse got the better of him.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, and she seemed to snap out of a trance.

"Huh?" she asked. It was a welcome relief to see her drop the façade of having it together and actually show some human nature.

"I asked, is something wrong?" Chekov repeated. "You've been distant the entire hour. That's not normally like you."

Her brow furrowed. "We've been meeting for a week. How is that sufficient enough time for you to know what's like me or not?"

Her short response caused him to retreat slightly. "Okay. Never mind, then."

Staring down at the paper in front of him, he heard a sigh coming from Karina and glanced back up at her.

Remorse was written all her face, and she rubbed her forehead as if in pain. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped like that. I just…have a lot on my mind today."

He set the paper aside and looked her in the eyes. "I'm a good listener. If you want to…"

She looked like she was about to wave his offer off, then something changed in her expression. Her shoulders slowly loosened, where he hadn't noticed they were tense before. He'd gotten so used to her profile, he guessed he'd just assumed that was how she carried herself. Now he wondered how he'd ever thought that. This was much more natural looking. Suddenly he found himself wanting to keep her from being so tense as much as possible.

She said, "So, I don't know if I told you this, but I'm an orphan. When I was four, my parents died in a car crash and I went to live at a convent. I was raised by nuns. At least, that's what I thought killed them up until last week."

Chekov kept the thought to himself that she really hadn't told him much about herself. He didn't actually even know how old she was. She hadn't asked him anything about himself, either. But then again, was that really shocking? Apparently she looked at their relationship as business only. Which wasn't exactly where he saw it going, but friendship needed to be a two-way street.

So what was he supposed to do here, keep whittling her down until she dropped the frigid exterior? Apparently, this was a good start if that was the answer.

"One of my friends was assigned this incident in Starfleet's history for his dissertation," she continued. "Turns out my dad was involved somehow. Starfleet was attacked by…" She paused, frowning for some unexplainable reason. "…Well, I guess it doesn't really matter who it was attacked by. They were just attacked. My dad helped stop it, I guess. According to Starfleet's records, my parents died in a house bombing not long after that. No one knows how I survived. Or how I got to the convent, for that matter. And we're getting nowhere with the nuns. They've turned down any information at least three times."

Karina moved her gaze from her hands in her lap back up to his face. She frowned. "Were you staring at me?"

He jumped, realizing it probably looked like he had been. And who was he kidding, it wasn't too far from the truth. Attempting to look casual, he said, "Nyet. Go on."

She sat back in her chair and sighed. "So if I seem distant, that's probably it." Shaking her head, she started to pack her bag up. "I'm sorry for unloading that on you. It's just something I need to deal with. I guess I wasn't the best teacher today."

Rising with her, Chekov frowned at her sudden attempt to turn this progress around. One second, Karina Bartowski was an open book, the next, an impenetrable wall went up around her. He guessed she'd never been called predictable in her life.

"I was the one who asked, you know," he told her. When she remained completely focused on gathering her things, he reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. Her head snapped up, and she looked from his eyes to his hand and back. His touch didn't appear unwelcome, just surprising. "If you ever want to unload things on me, feel free. I actually like it, unlike some people."

Karina nodded. "See you day after tomorrow, then?"

He smiled. "See you then."

The walls had descended again. He felt her eyes on him as he walked out. Breaking through her shell was proving to be a challenge. Maybe he'd be better off just leaving this particular endeavor alone. Why was it he had kept to himself this entire time in Starfleet, yet this girl made him actually want to make friends with someone?

Something she had said ate at him, however. Something about her parents' story… it sounded familiar. But how could it? He hadn't even known her for a month, and there was very little possibility he had any kind of connection with her past.

But as always, his past left that in serious question. Especially with the manner of her parents' deaths.