A/N: Hello Trekkies! This is a prequel to my other story "Private Conversations". You don't have to read that story first to enjoy this one, or for it to make sense. This idea was given to me over on AOS - by one reviewer in particular who enjoyed "conversations" so much they gave me the idea for this story. I hope you enjoy.

Lieutenant Spock's Personal Log

When Captain Pike left me in charge of the Enterprise, I am sure neither one of us envisioned events unfolding as they have – to use a human expression., the shit hit the fan and I am afraid that my emotions got the best of me. I am still struggling to put them back 'inside the box', as Nurse Chapel says, or perhaps I am still feeling the lingering effects of the blood wine.

I confess that I didn't take much time to make the decision to act when I received La'an's message. I followed the proper protocol and procedures, notified my superior officers at Starfleet, and was informed that the planet was off limits for the moment. But I trusted the message from La'an, and therefore made the decision to take the Enterprise and go investigate. I must admit that having the support of the bridge crew, although unnecessary, did boost my confidence. None of us could have predicted the added presence of Pelia, who tagged along at the last minute and is now serving as a Chief Engineer of sorts. Only time will tell if she chooses to stay with the Enterprise once Captain Pike returns.

It was difficult to defy orders and in essence, kidnap the Enterprise – as a Vulcan, I am inherently honest to a fault, and this required some subterfuge on my part. Without the crew's help, including Pelia, I would not have been able to pull it off. I am grateful, however, that the blame lies entirely with me, and I will be the only one to suffer a formal reprimand in their file. No one else in the crew deserves a mark against them for their heroic actions. I have already placed service commendations in La'an, Nurse Chapel, and Dr. M'Benga's files.

Nurse Chapel –

"Computer, pause recording."

There was an audible twinkle as the computer complied and Spock leaned back in his chair, staring at the log entry in front of him. He didn't know how to proceed – how much he wanted to record on the computer. Even though this was his own personal log, being a science officer he was well aware that nothing was truly ever private, no matter how many security codes and locks were put on it. If something happened to him, if he died on an away mission, or the Enterprise was destroyed, and Starfleet came to recover his personal property, they would recover his logs. He needed to be careful what he said. He was engaged, bound to a marriage contract to T'Pring. It caused him pain to think of her finding his log one day in the future and reading that he had harbored feelings for another-

"Fire photon torpedoes!"

Spock's eyes closed as his command echoed in his mind – the command that he thought at the time sealed Nurse Chapel and Dr. M'Benga's fate. He was certain in that moment he was killing them along with everyone else on that fake Federation ship.

Then Uhura said she was picking up an EV Federation suit transponder and suddenly, he could breathe again. But when he got to the transporter room, Nurse Chapel was lying unconscious on the platform and she wasn't breathing and she was so, so cold. The scientific part of his mind was telling him that it was too late, that in the cold vacuum of space, without a helmet, death was nearly instantaneous, but his human side was in control as he fell to his knees beside her and started CPR, begging, pleading with her to live.

"I waited for you," he whispered, a tear slipping down his cheek. He drew in a ragged breath and nearly shouted, "So you do not DIE!"

Christine gasped in a giant breath under his hands and opened her eyes, blinking at the blinding light over her. She reached up and cupped his face, her thumb swiping away his tear. "Why you gotta be so rough?" she whispered hoarsely.

Spock opened his eyes and was slightly surprised to find himself sitting in his darkened quarters staring at the blinking cursor on his small comm padd in front of him. "Computer, delete last two words and save log entry."

"Log entry saved," the computer acknowledged.

"Computer, where is Nurse Chapel?"

"Nurse Chapel is in sickbay."

"What are her life signs?"

"She is currently in a medically induced coma to recover from severe hypothermia and frostbite."

"Condition?"

"Stable."

"That will be all."

Spock knew he needed to rest, to put himself in a mediative trance to recover from this mission. He also knew that he would never be able to focus on himself until he had seen her.

Sickbay was deserted.

Dr. M'Benga and the other staff on duty must be taking a short break since Nurse Chapel was the only patient and she was in a medically induced coma. The ice had melted from her lashes and her exposed flesh no longer matched her hair color as it had just a few hours ago when she had lain across the transporter pad.

Spock took the risk and came closer to her bio bed, lifting a hand to brush back a lock of her hair, feeling the softness of the strands, lingering on the warmth of her cheek. He took a moment to listen, using his Vulcan ears to his advantage, making sure they were still alone, before he leaned down and pressed his lips against her dark brow.

"Thank you," he whispered against her skin. "For not dying."

He heard the doors across the room swoosh open and moved swiftly so that by the time M'Benga was behind him, Spock was standing at the foot of her bio bed.

"Mr. Spock – I didn't hear you come in. Are you all right?"

"Yes. I'm just-"

"She'll be fine."

"I'm not." Emotion clogged his throat, making him feel weak, helpless. He didn't know what to do with these new feelings for his friend – the woman who understood him so completely. "I have no words for what I feel."

He turned and met M'Benga's gaze and saw an emotion he didn't understand on the doctor's face. Maybe if Nurse Chapel was awake, she could act as his interpreter, but she wasn't. And the whole reason why she was lying there was because of him – he had gotten all of them into this mission in the first place.

She had nearly died, and it was all his fault.

Christine Chapel's personal log

I've had patients tell me that when you die – or almost die – you see bright lights or angels or beautiful places that represent the afterlife.

I didn't see anything like that.

I was so cold. It's the kind of cold that seeps under your skin and into your bones and just stays. You can wrap yourself up in blankets, drink hot tea, eat the spiciest food or pepper you can find, and the cold still lingers.

Sometimes I think I'll never get warm again.

Joseph assures me that my core body temperature has returned to normal, and my frostbite has healed but then he doesn't live in my body, does he? He doesn't wake up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night, reliving the moment we're blown out of that airlock again and again, hoping that Enterprise will save us and yet fearing they won't.

That this time it really is the end.

I guess almost dying really does change you in ways you never anticipated.

I never thought I'd wake up to see Spock's face over me – and that he'd be crying. Granted, it was only one tear – but for a Vulcan it might as well have been a full-on sob fest! I mean, the man was crying over me! I know Spock had been under a great deal of stress the whole mission and maybe his emotions finally just bubbled over – but tears? For me? I never thought I'd see so much raw emotion from him.

But then, why has he been avoiding me? Why hasn't he come to see me now that I'm awake and recovered? It's been five days. Joseph said he came to see me when I was sleeping, but that doesn't count because I couldn't talk to him. I haven't even had the opportunity to say thank you for saving my life – our lives.

"Cheers to surviving another mission!"

Christine clinked her mug against Erica's, La'an's, and Nyota's, before taking a deep drink. "Mm, that's good."

Erica elbowed her in the ribs. "You ever going to go back to cold drinks?"

Christine flushed as she took another sip. "You can't deny the comfort of hot cocoa – with a splash of rum."

The other women laughed.

Erica leaned in. "I think you just need someone to warm you up at night – someone like a tall, dark, handsome Lieutenant, perhaps?" She looked over Christine's shoulder as Spock entered the galley.

"Hush! He'll hear you," Christine hissed.

"He's all the way over there-" Nyota argued.

"You think those ears are just for show? Vulcan hearing is five times-"

"Nurse Chapel, hello. Am I interrupting?"

Christine swallowed audibly and locked eyes with Spock. "No, we're just having a drink after our shifts. Please, join us."

Spock shook his head ever so slightly. "No, I just wanted to stop and say – it is good to see you awake – recovered from your recent illness."

"Illness?" Erica snorted. "She nearly died after being blown out an airlock, Spock."

Spock went still for a moment before he spoke again. "Yes, well, I am happy you are well. If you will excuse me, I have work to attend to-" he held up a comm padd and walked away to an unoccupied table in a far corner.

Christine kicked Erica in the shin.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"Spock hasn't spoken to me since I almost died, and he actually came to me instead of the other way around and you had to go and ruin it!"

"So, go over there and talk to him – he didn't leave – he just didn't join us," Nyota pointed out.

Christine worried her lower lip. "What will people think if I go over there and talk to him in this social setting?"

Erica snorted into her glass. "Since when do you care what other people think?"

"Since Spock is acting captain while Pike is MIA. Lots of eyes are on him right now – I don't want to make things more complicated for him."

La'an's eyebrows rose, and her voice was slightly sarcastic as she said, "I think you're overreacting - you're two friends having a drink together – unless there's something you need to tell us –?"

Erica grinned. "Yeah, did something finally happen between you two?"

"No! Of course, not – Spock is my friend. Vulcans make great friends – they're so brutally honest."

Nyota sighed and sipped her drink. "Brutal honesty, yep, that's what I look for in a friend."

"Is this seat taken?"

Spock looked up from his padd with a frown to see Christine slipping into the seat across the table from him. "If you are inquiring whether or not someone will be taking this seat to another table, it isn't possible since the chairs are bolted-"

"Spock, stop-" Christine held up a hand as she tried to stifle her laughter. "You're making a joke again without even knowing it."

His frown deepened but then smoothed out as clarity came. "Ah, 'is this seat taken' is another human idiom, is it not?"

"It is indeed," she smiled. "Are you busy?"

"Yes."

"Oh – I suppose I could-"

"But I do need to take a break to eat and if you would care to join me-" he left the sentence unfinished, trying to keep his tone neutral and his expression bland.

"I'd love to."

He nodded once and signaled to a hovering crewman who came and took their order. Once the food was in front of them, he noticed that she only took a few bites before she began to push the food around on her plate, giving the appearance of eating to someone who wasn't watching her closely.

"The food is not to your liking, Nurse Chapel?"

She smiled sadly. "Christine."

"Pardon?"

"My name – it's Christine."

"I know your name."

"Then I would like you to use it."

Spock took a deep breath. "Nurse-"

She held up a finger. "Ah- we're friends, yes?"

"Yes."

"Friends call each other by their first names."

"We are also colleagues – it is not professional to refer to you by your first name while on duty."

"We're not on duty, Spock!" The sharpness of her tone carried to other tables and a few of their shipmates turned to look in their direction. She waited until they turned away before dropping her voice and continuing. "How about a compromise – off duty, in social settings, you call me Christine? Is that acceptable?"

"I will make the attempt to be more personal when not on duty."

Christine smiled. "That's all I ask." She took a big bite of her meal, and instantly began coughing. She swallowed with difficulty and then reached for her water, taking several huge gulps.

"Christine, are you all right?"

Through her tears, the fact that he had referred to her by her first name barely registered as the burning sensation from the hot peppers overwhelmed her taste buds. "Yes," she croaked.

"There is something wrong with your food. I noticed you did not order your usual meal and that you did not seem to be enjoying it. May I ask why?"

She blinked and wiped her eyes with the cloth napkin. "Anyone ever tell you that you are too observant?"

Spock remained silent, merely waiting for her answer.

She sighed. "I'm still cold. Ever since I was blown out of the airlock, I can't seem to stay warm no matter what I do. Hot showers, layers of warm clothes, hot food – nothing seems to help."

"Have you spoken with Dr. M'Benga?"

"Of course – Joseph says it must be psychological, because my tests all came back normal, and my body temperature is within the standard range."

He shook his head. "That is not logical. You still feel unwell. Therefore, something is causing you to feel this way." He grabbed the padd he had been working on and held out his other hand. "Let's go to the science lab."

"Right now?"

He quirked an eyebrow. "Do you wish to finish your meal first?"

She shuddered and placed a hand in his. "No, thank you."

He released her hand once she was on her feet and then placed his hand in the small of her back to guide her towards the doors through the jam-packed galley. She waved at the girls still sitting at the table she'd abandoned an hour ago.

They waved back and watched the pair leave.

Erica laughed. "Friends, my ass! Did you see the way he grabbed her hand?"

La'an shook her head. "I think you're imagining things. Spock helped her to her feet and let go, that's all."

"And then he put his hand on her back!" Nyota argued. "I think Erica's right – they have feelings for each other."

"Drinks on you if they aren't together in six months!" Erica crowed and pointed at La'an.

"Define 'together'," La'an demanded, leaning back and crossing her arms.

Erica smashed her hands together, rubbing the palms side to side, and made moaning sounds, while Nyota blushed.

"You're on."

"I think I found something."

M'Benga and Christine both left their stations in the science lab and came to lean over Spock's shoulders.

"What is it?"

"According to Christine's medical file, when she first came aboard the Enterprise, her body temperature was point two degrees above standard, still well within the normal range. Every physical exam since then has her body temperature at the same reading except for when she recovered from this latest mission–"

"When her body temperature is the standard ninety-eight point six degrees for the average human," M'Benga finished Spock's sentence. "Christine, I'm so sorry. I should have caught this! You tried to tell me and you've been freezing for almost a week-"

"Joseph!" she laughed as she grabbed his shoulders and shook him. "It's just nice to know I'm not going crazy. We have to warm up my blood – slowly – so my core temp returns to normal. Well, normal for me."

He nodded. "I'll fire up the chamber – I'm ready when you are. Thank you, Mr. Spock, for your assistance."

"I am sure you would have found the anomaly without my assistance."

M'Benga rolled his eyes. "Humbleness can be overrated, you know. I'll be waiting for you in sickbay, Nurse."

"I do not understand," Spock stated, turning to Christine as the good doctor left them alone.

"He was trying to express his gratitude and pay you a compliment – you need to learn to take it," Christine explained with a smile.

He shook his head. "It is my fault we were all in this situation to begin with – you and Dr. M'Benga nearly died and it is my fault-"

Christine moved swiftly, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug, similar to the one she had given him in the corridor after Hemmer's funeral when he had let his rage out for the second time.

"Don't you dare finish that sentence, Spock. Captain Pike left you in charge and that meant you had to make the tough calls. That's what it means to sit in the captain's chair." She stepped back from the embrace and stared him down. "Each of us had a part to play in the away mission and we went in with our eyes wide open, knowing the risks involved. Don't get me wrong – being blown out of that airlock was something I hadn't foreseen and was truly–" she shuddered. "But you saved us, Spock. Thank you."

He blinked, not understanding her gratitude for doing his duty. "For what, Christine? For giving the order to fire when I knew you and Dr. M'Benga were still on that ship?"

She shook her head. "I've talked to Erica and Nyota – both of them told me that you waited until the last possible second to fire the torpedoes – that you were waiting for us – for me. So, thank you, Spock. For waiting – for not leaving us behind on that ship to die."

"I could never do that – I would not leave any of the Enterprise crew behind."

Christine's heart wrenched painfully at the qualifier, but she knew he spoke the truth – another example of that brutal honesty Vulcans were famous for. He would have waited for a signal from any of the crew and she couldn't allow herself to think that she held a special place in his affections.

And yet he had shed a single tear for her.

"Christine?"

She jumped at the sound of his voice, not realizing that she had drifted away in her thoughts. "Yes?"

"I think you should go to sickbay. Dr. M'Benga is waiting to start your treatment. You need to get warm-"

She smiled. "Yes, of course. Good night, Spock."

"Good night, Christine. And thank you-"

"For what?"

"For living."