You all were really, really quiet last week. I hope that doesn't mean you aren't enjoying De Sanguine Regis. I really like hearing what you do like, and even what you don't. I take all of your opinions to heart and try to make the best, enjoyable story I can, so please, let me know! I promise I don't bite.

Chapter Seven: Sound the Bugle

Charlie blinked open her amber eyes, squinting against the light of the midmorning sun streaming into the bedroom. Rolling onto her back with a sigh, she stretched and felt the delicious crack of her spine and pull of her now sore muscles. She lay stretched on the bed, enjoying her first morning back in Jim's apartment. His scent clung to the sheets, compelling Charlie to snuggle back into them while she waited for his return. She knew she missed him when he was away, but now that she was back somewhere that screamed of Jim, the ache it caused in her heart told her to what length she had. After burying it deep for weeks, she could now let herself relax and enjoy being with the man she loved.

Deciding she should rise for the day, even though she didn't expect Jim to be back for a few more hours, Charlie sat up and ran a hand through her tangled dark hair, wincing as it pulled at her scalp. After the number of rounds she and Jim had gone through the night before, she was surprised it wasn't more tangled, and with a mischievous grin plastered on her face, she stood and headed toward the bathroom to take a shower. She had just stepped out of the hot water and was reaching for a towel when she heard the door to the apartment close with a loud snap. Surprised that Jim was back from his meeting so soon, she rushed to dry off. Wrapping the towel around her body, she headed into the bedroom and found the captain changing out of his grey, dress uniform into normal civilian clothing.

"Morning, how'd your meeting go?" she asked casually as she walked up to place a kiss on Jim's cheek but he brushed her away.

"I don't really want to talk about it," he snapped, slamming the drawer closed and stomping out of the room. Charlie stood stunned a moment before she grabbed her robe and followed Jim into the living room.

"Hey, what happened?" she questioned, wrapping her robe around her body while Jim went about making a sandwich in the kitchen, slamming drawers and cabinets left and right.

"I said I didn't want to talk about it," Jim growled, turning his back to her.

"Jim, you can talk to me," she pressed.

He sighed, leaning on his braced hands. "Not right now, Charlie. Just leave me alone."

Her brows rose in surprise and she agreed, "Okay, well I'll be in the bedroom if you need me."

Turning around with a frown, Charlie headed back to the bedroom to finish dressing and blow-drying her hair. Jim needed to time to settle down from whatever had angered him, but that didn't stop Charlie's curiosity. She had only ever seen him behave like that when there was something wrong happening to her. She paused as she reached the bedroom, a momentary panic gripping her chest. Had the review board ruled against her and Pike didn't want her to know just yet? Does she have to spend more time on Earth and away from Jim? Shaking her head to get rid of such thoughts, she changed clothes and headed back to the large bathroom adjacent to her and Jim's bedroom. She would not give in to despair just yet; not when things were beginning to look so positive.

She had just turned off the hairdryer when from the doorway, Jim muttered, "I lost the Enterprise."

Charlie jumped with a scream as she dropped the hairdryer, breaking off a piece from the head. Spinning around, she noticed him standing in the frame to the bedroom, his hands in his denim pockets and his shoulders hung in defeat.

It took a moment for her to register what he said, her hand held over her pounding heart as she stared at the morose man. She blinked a couple times then stammered, "What do you mean you lost the Enterprise?! Go find it!"

"It's not that easy," Jim said shaking his head.

"Well, why not?" she retorted, reaching down to snatch the dryer off the floor and dropping it on the counter with a loud clank. "What the hell happened?"

With a deep sigh, he leaned his shoulder against the doorframe, crossing his arms and explained, "You know how on your last mission we were told to survey Nibiru?" At her nod he continued, "Well our sensors indicated an active volcano that was hours away from erupting and wiping out the planet. There was a civilization on the planet that was in the first stages of their agricultural revolution, completely unaware of what was going to happen when that volcano went off . . ."

Charlie blinked, staring at Jim incredulously as his paused lingered. "You didn't," she uttered. "Please tell me you didn't do what I think you did."

Jim glanced away from her accusatory glare, instead he stared intently at the mirror and shrugged. "The plan was to lower Spock into the volcano where he would set up a cold fusion device that would prevent the eruption while Bones and I led the Nibiruans away, thereby hiding our existence. Sulu, Uhura, and Spock took a shuttle while the Enterprise was submerged in the nearby ocean, but we didn't calculate the amount of damage the heat and ash would cause to the vehicle. Sulu and Uhura barely made it out, and Spock was left behind in the volcano."

"How'd you get him out?"

"We raised the Enterprise out of the ocean and flew over the vent; beaming him onboard seconds before the device went off."

"In front of the Nibiruans?"

"Yeah," he admitted, reaching up to rub the back of his neck.

"Huh," she nodded, grabbing her hairbrush and running it through her dark hair with firm, angry strokes. She couldn't believe he had broken one of the primary doctrines of Starfleet. The Prime Directive was the core for why the Federation worked, why there was a Federation to begin with. "Did you address the reasons why you made such a decision in your Captain's log?" she asked, glancing at Jim through the mirror.

"Ah, not in any particular fashion."

"What do you mean 'not in any particular fashion'?"

"I didn't tell them."

Setting the brush back on the counter with care, she asked, "So how'd they find out?"

"Spock filed a report because he felt it was his fault and should take ownership of the situation—"

"But because you never actually told the admiralty about it, they were a bit confused by Spock's report, weren't they?" she snapped spinning around.

"Confused is not the word I'd use."

"Then what?" she glared. "Jim, the Prime Directive is the most important protocol of Starfleet. What were you thinking going against that?"

With a scowl, Jim spun on his heel and ran a hand through his hair in frustration as he stomped into the bedroom. "I've already got it from everyone else, Charlie. I don't need it from you too."

"Well what do you expect me to say?" she snapped as she followed. "Even I know not to mess with that and I'm not even from this century."

"I screwed up, alright?" he barked, tossing on his leather jacket. "I trusted my damn First Officer who had a Vulcan guilty conscience which constituted I get thrown under the bus for it."

"Spock was right to report it, Jim," Charlie argued. "Something that big, he had no choice, just like you should have filed it in your Captain's Log."

"So, wait, you agree with that Pointy-eared bastard?" Jim accused.

"Yes, I do," she agreed, crossing her arms. "Jim, the Prime Directive is what keeps the Federation functioning. It's why there hasn't been an all-out war with the Klingons or Romulans; why you're able to do what you do. To go against that, even for the right reasons is ethically wrong."

"I can't believe this," he breathed. "I can't believe your siding with the Vulcan over me."

"I'm not taking sides," she explained with an exasperated sigh. "I'm just telling it like it is; no bullshit."

"Great, wonderful," Jim muttered sarcastically, picking up his communicator and keys. "I love knowing you think that I'm not fit to be captain; makes me feel all warm and fuzzy."

"That's not what I mean, and you know it," Charlie asserted. "You made a mistake trying to do the right thing, and I don't think you should have lost the Enterprise over it, but I'm not in the admiralty, so it isn't my decision."

"Because that makes me feel so much better," he glared, stomping from the bedroom.

"Argghhh," she growled stomping her foot in frustration before following him out. "Goddammit, Jim, stop being so stubborn. I don't think you're not fit to be captain. No one else would have done what you did to save me, nor do I think they could have pulled it off even if they tried. But there are rules that even you can't argue against."

"Yeah, I got that," he mumbled, heading for the door. "Well no problem anymore because I am now headed back to the Academy where I get to relearn the rules all over again."

Charlie paused mid step, her head tilted to the side in confusion. "What do you mean go back to the Academy? I thought you were just demoted to commander or whatever."

Jim opened the door and sighed, his arm rising to brace against the frame. "They're sending me back because apparently I didn't learn anything the first time around."

"Oh Jim," she voiced sympathetically. "I'm so sorry."

"Yea, well sorry doesn't give me my ship back. I'm going out for a while, don't wait up."

The door slammed shut in Charlie's face and she stood stunned, her hand reaching out to comfort the man who no longer stood there. Her hand clenching into a fist, Charlie dropped her arm and turned toward the apartment, it feeling far emptier than it did an hour before. She stood there a moment longer before pursing her lips and coming to a decision. Grabbing her jacket, purse, and her own communicator, she set out to catch up with Jim. He needed her now much in the same way she needed him, and she'd be damned if she didn't provide support when he needed it most. Now, if only she could find him.

She spent hours searching all over Starfleet's main campus before heading into the city of San Francisco itself. Having never spent time with Jim outside his apartment except for those two days back in February, Charlie had no idea where to look. She went to the bar where she met with him and Pike, then on to several bars popular with the cadets, and she even wandered down by Pier 39 to see if any of the bars there would be the type he would visit. She knew he was probably drinking; she wouldn't blame him if he was, but for the life of her she didn't know where!

Slowly, a small nugget of doubt began to grow in her mind. How could she claim to be so close to Jim if, in his time of need, she had no idea where to find him? How could she claim that she made the right choice to stay when after six months, she was at a loss of what to do? Maybe she really didn't know him as much as she thought. If she lost Jim, she didn't know what would happen to her. He was her protector, her savior, and it terrified her to think that she could be left all alone in this new world.

Shaking her head in disgust, she attempted to remove such morose and dramatic thoughts from her mind. She had McCoy, and Uhura, and many of the others from the Enterprise as her friends, and with Pike now an important part of her life, she would never be alone. Her life had just been turned on its head, and that caused the despairing ideas to come to the foreground of her mind; the fight with Jim not helping matters.

After turning up nothing, the sun having long since set, Charlie headed to the one place she was sure she'd find the answer to her problem. The local clinic on the Starfleet campus was quiet that night as she stepped through the wide double doors. Nurses in bright white outfits wandered from room to room while patients were rolled around in wheelchairs and beds. Glancing around the main entrance, she couldn't see what she was looking for and stopped a passing nurse. Pointing down the right hall, Charlie thanked the young woman and hurried through the pristine foyer, down the hall, through a pair of doors and up to the third floor.

She found the office quickly enough and hit the call button, hearing a crash and a curse.

"Go away!" the voice shouted, and Charlie couldn't help but smirk and shake her head. Entering the code that he had given her a while ago, the door slid open and she walked in to find McCoy down on his knees cleaning up a broken vial.

"Issues, Doc?" she asked, her hands on her hips.

"Oh, it's you," McCoy said gruffly, standing up and dumping the contents of the dustpan in the trash.

"Well hello to you too."

"What can I do for you, Spitfire?" McCoy asked, ignoring her last sarcastic response.

Letting her arms drop with a sigh, she plopped down in the big, comfortable chair in the corner near the pile of PADDs waiting to be read by the surly doctor. "I need your help," she said, picking up one and glancing at the title, Diseases of 21st and 22nd century America. Dropping it back on the stack, she glanced up noting the perplexed stare of the doctor. His hip was leaning against the desk, and his arms were crossed while waited for her to continue. "With Jim."

Rolling his eyes, McCoy turned saying, "I'm a doctor, Charlie, not a relationship coach. If you have a problem with Jim, you need to talk to him about it."

"Well I would, but I can't find him," she admitted.

"What do you mean you 'can't find him'?" McCoy barked.

Rolling her eyes, Charlie explained, "We had a minor fight this morning and he stormed out. I haven't been able to find him since." Taking a pause, she added, "He lost the Enterprise, Len. It's gone."

McCoy swore, leaning onto his desk as he shook his head. "Damn Kid went and stirred up all the roosters," he grumbled.

Charlie nodded sadly. "Spock had some kind of role with it. I didn't get the full story, but Jim didn't tell the admiralty about Nibiru and Spock did. When I agreed with Spock's choice, Jim got a little mad."

"Oh I bet he did," the doctor said, plopping down in his chair. "Not that I don't agree, but you kind of kicked the man while he was down."

"I know," she sighed. "And I realized it about five minutes after he left. I tried to rush out and find him, but apparently he moves quick when he wants too. I'm pretty sure I've gone to every bar within the Bay Area."

"What makes you think he's at a bar?" Charlie just shot McCoy a look. "Okay, you're right. I'd probably be on my way to a bad hangover, too. Have you checked all the ones around campus? That's usually where he would go on his off days."

"I searched them all, McCoy," she sighed exasperated. "I just don't know where to look now."

"Did you, and I know this is probably a new idea for your ancient mind, try to call him?" McCoy asked sarcastically.

"Twice," she snapped. "He didn't pick up either time."

"What about the dive bar behind the Port of San Francisco?" he asked after a moment of quiet thinking. "It's to the right and the entrance is under the pier."

"No, because I didn't even know there was a bar there," Charlie said sitting up further. "Did Jim go there a lot?"

"As much as any other place," McCoy shrugged. "But he usually liked that place the best, especially when he was upset about something."

Charlie quickly jumped up, grabbing her purse that she had dropped near the chair. "Thanks, McCoy! I owe you a round!"

"Make that three!" the doctor shouted as Charlie sprinted out the door. Shaking his head, McCoy turned back to his work, but a nagging in his head had him sitting back with sigh. Kirk losing his ship was going to pull on him more than Charlie realized. He only hoped that the kid could figure something out before Jim reverted to his old ways, shoving Charlie out in the process.

She had thrown her purse onto her shoulder the minute she out the door of McCoy's office, and she distantly heard the request for three rounds. Charlie smirked as she took the stairs two at a time, wanting to hurry toward the place McCoy had mentioned. She exited the clinic through the same wide, glass doors, rushing across Starfleet's main campus toward the center of San Francisco. She only hoped that Jim was where McCoy had suggested, otherwise she was just going to have to go back to apartment and wait for him, something she was not particularly keen to do.

As she hurried thru the night, a commotion drew Charlie's attention toward the two main towers of Starfleet Headquarters. Near the very top of the structure hovered a vehicle, gently swinging back and forth around a set of windows. It was small, only about the size of a car and a compact one at that. Charlie slowed as she drew nearer to the building, squinting up as she tried to focus on what it was doing above her. To her horror, she realized it was shooting into the Starfleet building, pieces of broken glass and plaster raining down on the unsuspecting personnel on the ground floor.

All thoughts of finding Jim vanished from Charlie's thoughts as she sprinted over to the large fountain that gurgled outside the main entrance. Some people had gathered there, staring up in the same horror Charlie felt a moment ago. What they had yet to process was the amount of debris that rained down on their heads, especially when that machine was shot down.

"Hey!" she shouted, gaining the attention of those closest to her. "You need to move! Get these people out of the way of the debris!"

Her shout seemed to have snapped some of the security out of their astonishment. With firm orders, they began pushing people back away from the building and out of range of the raining projectiles. Some had already been hit, and Charlie rushed to drag them out of reach, pulling one man's arm around her shoulders as she hauled him to safety. Women were crying, and others could only watch as they backed away, their eyes wide in terror while beams of green light continued into the room above. Glancing around at those surrounding her, Charlie was surprised by her indifference to the situation, having seen far worse in her lifetime already. Hell, she had been kidnapped by Klingons; this was a cakewalk to that. She did notice a subtle shaking in her hands, and her forehead was beginning to break out in a sweat, but she did her best to ignore it

Beginning to buckle from the weight, she gently laid the man next to someone who had set up a quick triage center, expecting those in the room above to need assistance once the situation was under control. Above, the vehicle started to sputter, smoke pouring out as it began a death spiral. Charlie glanced up as it crashed into the floor below the destroyed room before falling out the window straight toward the fountain mere feet from her. Charlie's arm came up to protect her face as she blocked the man with her body when the vehicle landed and pieces flew off in different directions. She could feel the small shrapnel cut into her arm and some nicked her forehead with stinging accuracy as they flew past.

She stood and rushed to the craft, only to find no one inside. She glanced upwards just as the San Francisco police flew in on their own shuttles, noticing a few people standing near the now gaping hole in the side of the building. Whipping away the small drop of blood that ran down the side of her face, Charlie's attention moved back to the craft as she noticed something interesting inside before the police that had pulled up on scene drew her away.

Not knowing what else to do, Charlie began helping the injured toward EMTs and others with medical training. One of the first things Doctor McCoy taught her was field dressing onboard the Enterprise and she put her skills to work. He said after everything she had been through, and what the Enterprise was sure to experience while she was onboard, he felt it was a good skill to have. As she worked, blood and dirt found itself on her shirt and trousers, but her mind was wonderfully blank as she began helping staunch blood pouring from wounds, and wrap sprained ankles. Movement from the corner of her eye had Charlie glancing up. Her heart froze in her chest as she watched Jim stumble out of the main building, dirty and covered in small cuts just like her.

"Jim!" she shouted, standing up above those hunched around her. Jim snapped his head in her direction, his eyes widening when he caught sight of her.

"Charlie? Charlie!"

Without thinking, she ran towards him, leaping onto him when she was close enough and throwing her arms around his neck. He squeezed her, his head dipping into her shoulder before letting her go and holding her at arm's length. His eyes widened when he noticed the blood and grime.

"What are you doing here?!" he snapped, pulling her away from curious eyes. "Why aren't you at home?"

"I was looking for you!" she answered, spinning in front of him. "I've been looking all day for you. I even went to see your BFF for advice."

"BFF?" Jim voiced confused.

"Never mind," she muttered as she noticed his bloodshot eyes and the bruises. "What happened to you?"

"What happened to me? What happened to you? You're covered in blood."

"Don't worry, this isn't my blood," she said with a shrug. "I was helping those injured from falling debris coming from that attack." With panic beginning to grow in her chest, she choked, "Jim, were you in that room?"

Clenching his jaw, the muscle flexing so hard Charlie could see it in the semi dark he nodded. "There was an attack at an archive in London a few hours ago." She gasped, her hand covered her opened mouth as he continued, "They discovered one of Starfleet's own was behind it; someone named John Harrison. Senior command was called to discuss what our next plan of action was when we were attacked by him."

"Senior command? But I thought you lost the Enterprise?"

"Pike got it back and made me First Officer," Jim said, a deep pain gently sweeping over his visage.

"I knew he would look after you," she sighed, relieved. "Jim, I'm sorry about earlier. I hope you know that I'm always here to support you."

"It's fine, Charlie," he said, pulling her into him and clinging to her like a child.

"Jim, what's wrong?" she asked, gently pushing away from him after several moments. Something felt wrong with the situation now that she had time to calm and think rationally. "There's something you're not telling me."

Jim stayed quiet, his grief stricken blue gaze boring into her own, causing her heart to beat faster in sudden, unquenchable fear.

"Where's Pike and Spock? If it was senior command, then they were up there with you."

"Spock's fine. He's handling the coordination of the injured upstairs," Jim sighed, his eye's beginning to fill with tears, something she had never seen before. "Charlie, I tried. I tried to stop it before he took too many people out."

"Jim, what are you talking about?" she snapped, turning to run into the building, but he grabbed her arm, swinging her back around as he placed himself between her and the door. "Where's Pike? Where is he?!" she shouted panicked.

"He's . . . he's . . ."

"He's what?!" she yelled.

"He's gone."