Intimate As A Kiss

by ardavernport

OOO == OOO Part 1

Christine Chapel took her breakfast tray from the food slot and stepped aside for the next person in line. Her eyes scanned the gray rec room/mess hall. It was mostly full, with people filling the chairs at the round tables, chatting, getting their breakfast before first shift, the room alive with smells and sounds.

A few hopeful eyes looked her way. Most of the crew knew that just yesterday, the Enterprise had almost been taken over by a hostile alien that had commandeered the first officer's body. But the threat had been short-lived and thwarted by the other two alien entities that had come with the attacker before they heroically surrendered themselves to their own oblivion. But as far as threats went, this one had hardly made a ripple in the day-to-day routine for most of the crew. There had been no attacking ships, damage to repair, life support failures or any other of the usual perils. Now they were be hungry to hear from someone in the know about what happened beyond Captain Kirk's short ship-wide announcements about it.

And people knew that she had been right in the middle of it. That part of the gossip had already spread all over the ship.

Chapel was not sure if she was in the mood to contribute to the scuttlebutt stream, yet. Certainly not before she finished her report on the incident. It was almost done, but she did not have to file a report that went straight to the captain very often. And this report was a lot more personal than usual.

But in the meantime, she had to find a place to sit and eat her breakfast.

Seeing an empty seat next to friends from the chem lab, she took a step in that direction.

She stopped.

Almost dropped her tray.

A sudden sense of someone simultaneously standing close behind and in front of her - - touching her, breathing on her - - made her gasp. And feelings that were not hers intruded in her mind. No words, just a warm turbulence of desperate apprehension. A few people noticed her sudden change of expression, but she clutched her tray tightly and gave them a forced smile. Moving on instinct, she turned to where the source of this disturbance came from.

Alone, at a table by the far wall, Mr. Spock stared back at her with surprise. Then he looked away, his Vulcan profile standing out in the crowd against the pale gray wall; neat black hair, pointed ears, upswept eyebrows.

The invasive feeling lessened, but did not quite go away. Exhaling, she wove among the tables in the crowded room and put her tray down on the table at the seat opposite his. Her plate and utensils rattled.

"Nurse Chapel." He acknowledged her with an even tone, but his trepidation showed in his brown eyes before he looked back down at the note board next to his tray. At a glance, it looked like a duty roster that he was marking up with a stylus.

"Mister Spock." She composed herself, not really happy about this sudden need to speak to him, and sat down. "I have no telepathic ability at all. But I know what it feels like. As you well know.

"So, I am surprised, by what just happened."

He swallowed and lowered his eyes, putting the stylus down. "I apologize. It was - - - is - - - completely unintentional. I had thought I had mastered it. But I see I was quite wrong. I - - "

Bowing his head, he gripped the edges of his tray, obviously intending to flee.

"No!"

A few heads at nearby tables turned their way at the sound of her voice. Still seated, he froze.

In a much quieter tone, she continued. "If you want to go to a more private place, that's fine. I understand that. But we need to talk about this. Or . . ." She hated saying the words, but she had to. " . . . I'll just have to report it."

An uninvited telepathic contact was as reportable as a personal assault, as egregious as if he had put his hand up her skirt.

He settled back down, dropping any pretense of leaving. And closed his eyes. He was concentrating. Any lingering sense that she had of a presence near her vanished. After another long moment he opened his eyes, looking directly at her.

"What happened?" Christine kept her tone neutral, non-accusing. She was confident that he had not intended to invade her privacy. But it seemed now that he had no idea why it happened at all.

Spock took a long breath and exhaled carefully. "My lapse appears to have been a reflex when I saw you . . . similar to what happened to when Sargon freed me from the receptacle, yesterday . . . and placed me with your consciousness. And then transferred me back to my body, after Henoch was destroyed."

Chapel lowered her eyes.

She very clearly remembered yesterday's revelation, that Sargon was not dead, his consciousness escaping his fellow entity's attempt to kill him, to live on in the ship's computers, that he had a plan to restore the Captain and Dr. Mulhall, and defeat Henoch.

It had all happened in seconds, but the impact was so blazingly strong, she could recall every millisecond.

- - - The fog that Henoch had cast over her cleared just enough for the immense, bright power of Sargon's mind to focus her what had happened to her. And impress upon her that she needed to keep the pretense of being in Henoch's power. Or all would be lost.

- - - Kirk freed from his receptacle, revived and practically jumping off the biobed - - -

- - - Ann Mulhall coming back to herself, to her own body, more slowly, after Thalassa changed places with her and joined Sargon - - -

- - - The pure joy from Thalassa, reunited with the husband she thought was lost; them shining together; their love so intense - - -

- - - Spock, scooped up from Henoch's receptacle and placed in her, his desperate warning about Henoch smothered by Sargon's immense presence.

/ Hide. Do not let Henoch know you are here. /

And his admonition to her.

/ Keep him safe. /

And to both of them.

/ Do nothing. Think nothing. Until it is time to act. /

"I apologize," Spock continued, his hands steepled by his cheek, over his breakfast. "My lapse was unforgivable, Nurse Chapel - - - "

"Christine," she admonished. Given their shared telepathic experiences, plus their past history, she was not going to let him get away with his usual formality.

"Christine," he repeated, acknowledging her demand. "I clearly badly over-estimate how well I had resolved what happened yesterday. So, it might be best, if we avoided each other until - - - "

"Mind if we join you?" A very chipper-looking Dr. McCoy appeared at their table, suddenly standing over them, holding his own breakfast tray. A more reluctant-looking Captain Kirk, carrying his own breakfast tray, a step behind him.

McCoy did not wait for either of them to answer and just sat down next to Chapel. Kirk followed, sitting next to Spock. Three science/medical uniforms at their table. One command gold.

Neither one of them could easily escape now.

"So, how's your morning." McCoy forked an egg-and-pepper-colored, reconstituted food cube and ate it. Kirk sipped his coffee.

"Oh, just getting started," Chapel answered vaguely. She ate a cube of her own egg-and-mushroom flavored food. Spock also ate some of the remains of his neglected vegetarian breakfast. There was an odd moment of silence while everyone was either chewing or sipping.

"So, you have anything more to say about . . . yesterday?" McCoy prodded, glancing at both her and Spock, obviously curious about finding them sitting at the same table at breakfast, which usually only happened when there was a large group of science and medical crew together. Kirk kept eating his egg and bacon-smelling lumps.

"Mmmm," Chapel dabbed at her mouth with her napkin. "Well, I've almost finished my report. I think I can get that to you by the end of the day, Captain." She had recorded everything and only needed to proof the text.

Kirk nodded. Then his eyes shifted sideways. "Mr. Spock, I didn't get your report about our encounter with Sargon and his people."

Spock visibly sighed, obviously accepting that he was going to have to say something. He put his fork down "I apologize, Captain. I have found it remarkably difficult to summarize what happened in the past few days."

"Really?" McCoy prodded. "I wouldn't think it would be that hard for you." Again, his innocent, blue-eyed gaze took in both Spock and Christine. And she felt just a little annoyed by McCoy needling Spock, obviously looking for tidbits about what might have transpired between them when she was concealing his consciousness.

"Well, I don't think it would be that easy," she commented before Spock could say anything, "Having to write down about being trapped in a void, helpless while you know a homicidal sociopath with super mental powers is running loose on the ship in your body and not being able to warn anyone about it for days." She paraphrased her impression of Spock's state from her report.

Spock's eyes briefly widened in shock at her blunt synopsis, before he suppressed his expression. But it had the desired effect. McCoy backed off immediately.

"Sorry, Spock. I guess I didn't think."

Spock narrowed his eyes and took the advantage. "Perhaps you did not."

McCoy covered his moment of embarrassment about his prying by paying more attention to his breakfast.

Kirk frowned, putting down his fork

"When I changed places with Sargon, the first time, I knew he had only noble intentions toward us. And I made the argument that we should help him. But we didn't question the intentions of the others." He hazel eyes looked toward his first officer in part sympathy, part apology.

"Captain, I agreed that the risk was worth the possible benefit with you," Spock reminded, before going on.

"When I exchanged places with Henoch, we were merged briefly, as you were with Sargon, but Henoch simply took whatever information he wanted from me about us and the Enterprise. And discarded me as insignificant. And I had no power to stop him." he lowered his eyes. "I have never before been in a such a state; isolated, powerless. And insignificant."

He stared at nothing as he quietly spoke these last words. As if he was just realizing this as the words came to him. McCoy now looked really concerned, as if he might say something, but he wisely kept his words to himself. He sipped his coffee instead. Christine would have taken his hand in support . . . if he were anyone but Spock. Sympathy, and especially touching, would only deeped the exposed wound.

"Sargon seemed to trust Henoch," Kirk speculated quietly. Christine knew that James Kirk was the one person on the ship who could console Spock . . . by knowing not to console him at all. Moving the discussion on to recent events and plain unemotional facts.

Spock shook his head slowly, folded his hands before him and answered Kirk, his voice steadying as he spoke. "Henock feigned a truce with Sargon's side. He was very good at it. But it was a deception, so he might gain a place in the one last refuge, as their planet and all life on it was being destroyed."

"Now that's something I don't understand," McCoy wondered, putting his cup of coffee down. "We've encountered beings who have evolved past their physical bodies. The Thasians. The Organians. Sargon's people seemed to have the mental power that would allow them to do that."

"I suppose." Kirk shrugged. "But I got the impression that they placed a great deal of value on their physical bodies, their feelings and senses. Their identities. Sargon and the others built a whole underground refuge at the last minute when they realized all life on their planet would be destroyed by their conflict, so they could return to living in some kind of material bodies."

"Indeed," Spock agreed. "I am quite certain that Henoch would have considered a non-corporal existence to be just another form of death."

"Hmmmm," Kirk, nodded, speculating. "Spock, is it possible that Sargon and Thalassa lived on, as non-corporal entities?"

"Nothing was detected on our sensors, Captain. But our sensors do not register Thasians or Organians, either. So, it may be possible."

"It would be wonderful if they survived. Together." Chapel sighed; it would be so romantic if they lived on in some way. She had never experienced such pure love as she had in that brief encounter with them when everyone's consciousness changed places.

"It would be," McCoy agreed. "But whatever happened to them, I'm glad Sargon got rid of Henoch first." Everyone at the table agreed with that sentiment as they finished their meals. Spock handed over the duty roster for Kirk to sign. Everything seemed to have snapped back to normal since when she had sat down at the table to confront Spock. It was almost time for them to start their shifts.

"Spock, can I get your report, sometime today?" Kirk asked after finishing the last of his coffee.

"Of course. Captain." There was just enough hesitation in his response to make Kirk frown slightly.

He gestured toward her. "Nurse Chapel, you said you were almost finished. Perhaps you can collaborate?"

"That . . . might be beneficial. Captain."

Chapel jumped in, over Spock's obvious doubts. "I'd be happy to help." She turned to McCoy. "If you can spare me, Doctor?"

"Of course," McCoy answered automatically, caught off guard.

"We could start now," she suggested, gripped the edges of her tray.

"Uh." Also caught off guard, Spock turned to Kirk. "If you can spare me on the bridge, Sir?"

Kirk shrugged, not caught off-guard at all. "Certainly. I'll look forward to your report."

Chapel got up and Spock followed.

"We'll just borrow your office, Doctor. We won't be long," Chapel said as they left.

"What?" McCoy asked, unsure of what had just happened. Kirk chuckled.

OOO == OOO End Part 1