Forwarded by the ASC-VSO Posted: Tue, 6 Jan 2004 21:16:04 -0500 In: alt.startrek.creative From: "Djinn" gleenBUFFY@erols.com TITLE: Emotional Rescue AUTHOR: Djinn CONTACT: gleen@erols.com http://users.erols.com/gleen/Djinnslair.htm SERIES: TOS RATING: PG-13 CODES: S/Ch PART: 3/3 SUMMARY: Post-V'ger, Spock is ready to explore his emotions. Chapel only Spock walked into sickbay. He had been waiting for Christine by the transporter room door for fifteen minutes. It was not like her to be late. She rushed toward him. "We had a last minute emergency. Rock climbing accident. Broken leg. I'm going to be a few more minutes." "I can return later. Or we can forego a visit to the planet." "Miss shore leave? Not on your life." She indicated a chair. "I just have to check the bone placement once the regenerator finishes." He sat, watching her as she worked. She ignored him, and he commended her sense of duty. She was dedicated to her profession. And quite proficient at it. She was indeed a fascinating woman. Jim had been right--but then his friend usually was. Jim had been right about keeping it light as well. Spock had worked hard to make their first dinner an occasion that would not threaten her, that would not spook her into running from him again. They had eaten together many times since then. A simple meal shared, usually just the two of them, sometimes with Kirk and McCoy. They occasionally ended the evening talking in the auxiliary observation lounge. That had become more common as she relaxed around him. He saw her gently touch the young woman on the biobed, moving her leg as she checked the bones. She was so careful, so thorough. Her smile for her patient was a mixture of confidence and sweetness. An expression that imparted comfort and trust. Spock looked away, saw one of the other doctors watching her too. Morrow. Spock decided the man might not be as safe as Christine seemed to think he was. He felt a surge of irritation, of territoriality. Wondered if that was a Vulcan or strictly human reaction to the man's interest in Christine. Well, Spock would soon have her away from him. Away from everyone. He had grown tired of dinners, of the limitations of the few hours they spent together. He was anticipating spending more time, less structured time with her off the ship. In a new environment--an environment neither of them controlled or knew well. Where they would be on even footing, united in their exploration. He almost smiled. He was becoming as whimsical as Jim. "You loitering here for a reason, Spock?" McCoy said as he walked into sickbay. Spock knew McCoy had been on the first shore leave rotation. He was here to relieve Christine. "I am waiting for Doctor Chapel." McCoy grinned. "Music to my ears, my friend. Music to my ears." He glanced Christine's way, seemed satisfied that he was not needed. Turning back to Spock, he said in a slow drawl. "Just what are your intentions toward my deputy, Mister Spock?" Spock gave him his most eloquent eyebrow. McCoy burst out laughing. "Yeah, I didn't think you'd tell me. I'll have to try that line on her. Spock hoped he didn't. McCoy read his expression perfectly, laid a quick hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Spock. I'm not going to mess things up for you." He smiled, then headed to his office. Christine finished what she was doing and walked to McCoy's office. They conferred for a moment and then she ducked into her office, grabbing her casual clothes. She mouthed, "One minute," dramatically to Spock and headed for the staff locker room. It had been his experience that with human females most time estimates for being ready had to be multiplied by a factor of five, perhaps seven. But she was back in just slightly over the time she said, smiling as she pulled her hair out of the clips that held it up. She put her uniform in her office and tossed the clips on her desk. Her hair swung free at her shoulders and he suddenly wanted to touch it, to see what it would feel like. It had the sheen of Vulcan silk. "Ready?" she asked. He forced himself to focus on things besides the texture of her hair. "Yes." "Let's go." She took in his uniform. "Guess casual clothes are out for you? Or are all your robes at the cleaner?" He chose not to answer, just raised an eyebrow. She laughed loudly and he gave her the small smile that she so naturally pulled from him. "Have you been to this planet before?' she asked as they headed into the transporter room. "I have not." "Then we'll explore it together." She smiled at him as they were transported from the Enterprise to the surface of Calexilon. The first thing that hit him was the heat. It felt like Vulcan. But the atmosphere was more Earthlike, easier for her than Vulcan would be. He'd seen how difficult the harsh conditions had been for his mother. Although Christine struck him as somehow hardier than this mother, her tall, lanky form more resilient. He no longer questioned that he thought about Christine's form, or how sturdy it might be. Or what other things she might be able to easily withstand. He forced his thoughts away from sex. He might no longer question that he seemed to think of it more often, but it did not mean he had to indulge himself shamelessly. "Penny for your thoughts?" she asked. He did not think a penny would be sufficient for his more lascivious thoughts, so he retreated to safer ground. "This place is much like Vulcan." She nodded. "Hot enough to be." She opened a fastener on her shirt, letting air in at the neck. He found himself fascinated with the movement, realized the fasteners went all the way down. "What?" She looked concerned. "Are you feeling okay, Spock?" He nodded quickly, too quickly. Forced his eyes away from her skin. It would not do to let her see how much he wanted her. It would be counter to the light approach that Jim had advocated, that Spock knew was the only way he could win her. He wondered if Christine knew that a Vulcan could desire someone as much as Spock did her. That it was not only at the time of the Pon Farr that such thoughts rose, making it difficult to concentrate. It had been a shock to him when he realized his parents slept together, that they touched each other between the seven years. It should not have been surprising, nowhere did it say Vulcans could not desire...could not love. But he had assumed that his father, stern taskmaster that he was, treated his mother in much the same way as he did Spock. That she would come up wanting, would disappoint him. But she did not. Spock was glad for her, even if he wished just once he could make Sarek proud. "Spock?" Christine touched his hand lightly, the caress glancing. He had the illogical urge to take her hand, to walk with her that way. Her frown grew. "What's the matter?" There was something in her eyes, a suspicion, a fear. He realized that she thought his reactions were due to the Pon Farr. He did not think she would ask him outright about it though. He must find a way to explain. A way that was light. He wondered if Jim would come down and do it for him. Give her 'the talk', once Spock explained the Vulcan birds and bees to his friend--what little Jim didn't already know. Spock's mouth turned up slightly. She smiled, but her brows narrowed in confusion. She touched his hand again. This time he did capture it briefly. Stroked her skin gently, reveling in her coolness. "I am very distracted today." "I can tell. Is it an experiment? Do you need to go back to the ship?" She sounded like she hoped it was work that was distracting him. He shook his head, drew her away from the beam-in sight, then dropped her hand again as they walked. "I am distracted by you." She swallowed. "Oh." "That is not a bad thing, Christine." He kept his tone casual. If he could just make her joke about this, they would be all right. "But it's unusual." She took a deep breath. "I just hope it's not once every seven years unusual." He glanced at her, surprised she would speak so frankly. Pleased that she would. It implied a level of trust that he had worried would not manifest between them. "It is not that, Christine. I simply enjoy your company. Exceedingly." She smiled. "You do, huh?" He nodded. "Well, there's no accounting for taste." He relaxed; she was joking. "No, there is not." He slowly let one eyebrow rise. She laughed. "What do you want to do?" He decided that finding a secluded place and making love to her was probably not an option. He chose the next best thing. "The museum here is reported to be excellent." "The museum it is, then." She brushed up against him. He could not tell if the movement was accidental or deliberate. He decided he did not care; he just hoped she would do it again. -------------------------- Chapel followed Spock around the museum. He seemed to have settled down since they'd entered the huge building, losing himself in the exhibits of culture and history and art. But earlier, he had seemed so oddly distracted. By her, as he had himself admitted. For one brief moment, she'd even thought she'd seen a look of pure desire cross his face. Desire for her. In the past, it would have seemed unlikely--impossible actually. But they'd been getting along so well, their dinners becoming more and more comfortable and fun. He joked with her more than she would ever have thought possible. Teased her gently, his humor scattered throughout more serious conversations about the ship, or science, or their pasts. They even spent time with Jim and Len. She loved their dinners, invariably ended up spending the entire evening laughing as Spock played straight man for all three of them. She could tell both Jim and Leonard approved of the relationship. Somehow, that made it easier to relax. If they didn't think Spock would hurt her, why should she? She moved to the next room, lost herself in studying the textiles until Spock came up behind her, standing close to her. A few months ago, it would have made her nervous if he had stood this close. She would have wondered what he wanted, and why he wanted it. She would have obsessed over it. He leaned in, his breath hot on her ear as he said, "This fabric reminds me of Escher's early works." He was so close to her. She leaned back, barely had to move for her back to touch his chest. She felt him lean in, press slightly against her. "It does look like Escher," she said quietly. "My mother enjoys his work. She has a framed original drawing that she keeps in her study." He did not move away from her, in fact seemed to move closer. Where their bodies touched an amazing amount of heat was being generated. She took a shaky breath, felt his hand rest lightly on her upper arm. She stared at the fabric, not wanting to move on, afraid to break the moment. "Christine?" "Yes?" "Thank you for spending the day with me." He moved his hand down slowly, till their hands were touching. She spread her fingers, felt his move to fill the space between. "You're welcome," she said throatily. The sound of someone coming up behind him made her turn to look. Spock pulled away, letting go of her hand. She smiled at him, was rewarded with one of his small smiles. "We aren't doing anything wrong," she said as she followed him to the next exhibit. "Not yet at any rate," he answered back, his tone light. Another joke. His way of teasing her. She thought. He turned to look at her. His eyes were intense, seemed to bore into her. She decided she wouldn't want to bet the farm on him not being serious. She waited until the other people had moved on, then she moved, stood next to him, let her hand rub up against his. She touched his wrist, and he took her hand in his, holding on tightly but not turning to look at her. "Spock?" He took a breath; it seemed to require a great deal of effort. "Yes, Christine?" "If you could do anything you wanted at this moment, what would it be?" He turned to look at her and the answer was in the way his gaze raked over her before he met her eyes. "What would you choose to do?" She grinned, squeezed his hand. "Not fair. I asked you first." He looked away. "What?" "My answer may not please you." "I asked. I must want to know." "Logical." He shot her a look that was light again. She smiled. "So? What would it be?" "As long as I could be with you, I would be satisfied with any activity." She laughed. "You have been hanging around Jim too much. Talk about the charming evasion." She moved closer, whispered, "Tell me?" He did not answer, but his grip on her hand tightened briefly. "Should I guess?" She could hear the note of teasing in her voice, a note she had never used with him before. Coy. Flirtatious. "Guessing would be acceptable," he said. So a Vulcan could flirt back? She smiled. "Does it involve the two of us, this activity you'd like to be doing?" He shot her a look she could only classify as playful. "No, I thought we would each need a team of ten." She laughed, saw him react to her spontaneous enjoyment. Again his hand tightened on hers. "Hmm, so twenty of us." "Twenty-two, Christine. Ten each in addition to you and me. But upon reflection, perhaps the two of us will be sufficient." He turned away from the exhibit, faced her. "Does it involve science?" "Biology." She smiled. She had not expected him to be able to make light of sex this way. "I'm good at biology." "I am as well." She pushed him toward the next exhibit. He drew her with him, not letting go of her hand. "Is it enjoyable, this activity?" she asked. "Yes, if done correctly, it is most enjoyable." "And if done incorrectly?" She saw his look and answered for him, "It's still pretty good?" He nodded then looked away, seemingly entranced by the plain brown cloth that was displayed before him. "Embarrassed, Spock?" "Not at all. Are you, Christine?" "No." She marveled at that. She was engaging in seductive banter with Spock. And it wasn't embarrassing at all. They were joking about having sex. Only she could tell from the way he was holding her hand, the way he occasionally glanced at her as they stood in front of this very boring display that this was no joke. He wanted her. Very much. Possibly as much as she wanted him. "Is it a good idea, this activity of yours?" He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. He turned to look at her, his expression more concerned now than intense. "I am unsure." She was touched at his worry. "I think it might be okay." "You do?" She nodded slowly. His expression shifted, away from concern back to lust. And it was lust, she could see that now. She smiled. "You want me?" "I do." He seemed relieved to be saying it. "When?" "Would 'five minutes ago' be an insensitive response?" She laughed. "No. It would be an honest one." He nodded, affection in his gaze, in the way he touched her cheek so briefly. "I can, however, wait until you are ready." "I appreciate that." "Do you have any idea when that moment will be?" He sounded like a little boy. She laughed at the wistfulness in his expression, the longing in his voice. Laughed and leaned forward to give him a kiss on the cheek. His skin was warm and soft under her lips. She pulled away slightly, then moved so that her lips brushed his lightly, softly. His hand came up, pressing on her back, pushing her closer. Voices in the next room made them jump apart. The look he gave her made her laugh. It was one of extreme annoyance that they had been disturbed. As she backed away from him, she said softly, "Soon, Spock. I'll be ready soon." --------------------- As Spock followed Christine around the minerals display, he decided that the word "soon" lacked specificity, and should, in fact, be stricken from the language. He glanced at Christine, decided it would not do to ask her to refine her answer. She wanted him too. That would have to be enough data for now. She turned to look at him, then moved close, pressing against him in a way that would have been most inappropriate if they had not been alone in the darkened room. He allowed himself to hold her, to pull her close. He was kissing her before he could think better of it. Her lips were soft, cool under his. Her body so strong as she pressed against him. He forced himself not to groan. He could not remember ever being this aroused outside of the Pon Farr. But then he had never before spent months pursuing someone, getting to know her, the way he had with Christine. He forced himself to pull away from her, realized that the signs of his arousal were very evident. "Perhaps you could leave me alone for a moment?" He looked down, trusted she would understand. She brushed her hand down his chest, and kept going. He did groan when she moved over him. "Christine, please." She smiled up at him in a new way, a pleased way. She understood, finally. What she did to him. What he wanted from her. The power she held over him. "Do Vulcans have meaningless sex, Spock?" Her hand brushed over him again as she waited for the answer. "Not as a rule." He grabbed her hand when she seemed about to make a third pass. "Certainly that would not be the case here. I care for you." She gently pulled her hand away. "I care for you too. And just in case you were wondering, I'm ready. Now." She turned and walked out, giving him the privacy he'd asked for. Her words echoed in his ears. He suddenly wished he'd worn one of his robes. It was a long time before he could leave the room. She turned as he walked toward her. The seductive smile she gave him almost forced him to return to the minerals room. "Calculate Pi to the fiftieth decimal place." She grinned at him. "And do it fast." Fortunately, she did not look down. He thought he would have been lost if she had. "Where?" he managed to get out. "Well, there's the ship. There's a guest lodging here. Or there's the great outdoors." She looked at him teasingly. "Personally, I'd rather not go for option number three. We could get cited for disorderly conduct." "That would be unfortunate. We would lose precious time." "My thoughts exactly." She seemed to be careful not to touch him as they walked out of the museum. "There are benefits to being off the ship." "Yes." He began to weigh them against the costs, then realized the computations were not helping his physical state. He quickly went back to figuring Pi. "On the other hand, there are pros to being in our quarters. We wouldn't have to go back when shore leave is over, for instance." Spock realized that at this point he didn't care where they did it, just that they did it. She laughed at his expression. "Doesn't really matter much to you, does it?" He shook his head. "Should I regret that?" She smiled. "I'll take it as a compliment. Hmmm. Which should it be?" She stopped walking, tapped her forefinger against her lips as if in great thought. He realized she was teasing him and pushed her toward the beam-out site. "We do not have to check into our quarters. Moreover, we do not have to check out of them and return to the ship. Utilizing our quarters will allow us at least thirty additional minutes." She grinned. "Wow, that logic stuff is useful." He considered calling the Enterprise and asking for immediate beam-up, but unlike when he had done it for her, he could see no real need except to end this torment of desire. He walked on, glad to see that she was keeping up easily, seemed to be as intent on getting back to the ship as he was. "Spock?" "Yes." "Thank you." He glanced over at her. "Did I do something pleasant?" She laughed. "For not giving up on me. I'm not sure why you didn't, but I'm glad that you didn't." "Many years ago, you did not give up on me. I am merely returning the favor." "Awww. That's so sweet." He tried not to look too pleased. He had thought it was a Jim-worthy response also. It was, at times, very useful having such a charming friend. "Spock?" "Yes?" "You do realize that we're practically running, right?" He had not realized that. He slowed his pace, heard her laugh. "You are enjoying this far too much, Doctor Chapel." "Why, Mister Spock, I thought enjoyment was the idea." The raw seduction in her voice made him want her even more. They finally arrived at the spot they had beamed down to. Spock nodded to the security officer who kept the area clear whenever someone beamed in, then tried to relax as they beamed back to the ship. As they walked quickly out of the transporter room, she said softly, "We get to that age old question, Spock. Your place or mine?" "Mine is three decks closer." "Problem solved." She followed him to his. The lift took forever to arrive; he would have to have the technicians run diagnostics. It seemed particularly slow in reaching his deck, as well. He considered stopping the lift, pulling her toward him, but knew that would not be wise. "Eager?" she whispered, as if she had read his mind. "Yes." He looked over at her. She smiled. "Me too." The doors finally opened and he charged out. She seemed to be deliberately walking with agonizing slowness. The corridor was empty so he grabbed her hand and pulled her after him. She laughed; the delightful sound filled his ears. Yes, she was delightful. He no longer needed to wonder what Jim meant. And in a few moments, he would know far more about her than his friend did. He hoped. He was still not completely clear on the nature of his friend's past relationship with her. He decided not to dwell on it. She was his now. He palmed open his door, moved quickly through them, pulling her after him. As soon as the door closed, he locked it, then pulled her into his arms. He tried to go slow, but the feel of her arms around his neck, her lips against his, were making him mad with desire. "Christine, I wish to make this good--" "--Shh. It will be." She pulled him back, kissed him again, her body pressing against his, making him respond to her. He surrendered to sensation, to raw desire, to love. Yes, he loved her. He wanted her. He cared for her. He remembered how V'ger had not understood this, wondered briefly if it did now. Pitied it if it didn't. He pulled away from her, stared at her. Touching her cheek, he let his hand move back to her hair. It did feel like silk. "I love you," he whispered to her. Her grip on him tightened, her eyes went very soft. He saw no fear, no hesitation when she said, "I love you too." He slowly undid her shirt, taking pleasure as each fastener came loose, enjoying the sight of her skin, her body as it was revealed to him. She was so strong, so lovely. He pushed the shirt off her, ran his fingers over her stomach, her chest, across her shoulders. He could feel her arousal through his touch, wondered if she could feel any of his the way she had felt him when he'd tried to help her after her father died. She began to undo his uniform, her hands shaking a bit, so he pulled her back to him, kissed her for a long time, until the taste of her and feel of her and smell of her became familiar. Became home. She went back to her task, her hands steady this time as she pushed his uniform off. He removed the rest of her clothes, followed her down to the bed. He lost himself in her body, in the way she bucked up against him, the way she cried out as she surrendered to the pleasure they were creating. At the way she held him when he cried out. "Christine," he murmured, over and over as he loved her. They put those extra thirty minutes to good use. -------------------------- "You look well rested," Kirk said as he walked into sickbay. Then he grinned. "Actually, you don't. Enjoyed your shore leave, did you?" Christine smiled, tried to make it an innocent smile but knew she failed when he laughed. "I won't press, Christine." He sat down in the chair by her desk. "Just tell me you're happy." She smiled again, touched his hand. "I'm happy, Jim." They shared a long look. She finally looked away. "Spock seems pretty chipper too. For a Vulcan anyway. A Vulcan who got absolutely no sleep." She refused to rise to the bait. "He's happy. You're happy. My friends are happy. What could be better?" "Maybe you should find someone?" She smiled gently, wanted to share the way she felt. "I'm married to the ship, Christine. Remember?" She nodded slowly. "On Earth you weren't. Why didn't you find someone then?" "I thought I did. I thought I'd found it all with Lori." She looked down. "I'm sorry. I should learn to think before opening my mouth." "It's okay." He waited until she looked up at him, then shot her a wry grin. "I'll let you in on a little secret. I'm not so good at romance." She thought back over the years, realized he was right. That seemed so unfair to her. That he shouldn't be good at romance, shouldn't be lucky at love. "Maybe that'll change?" He stood up, smiled. The golden-boy, one hundred percent, I'll worry about it tomorrow, Kirk grin. "Maybe it will." He leaned down and kissed her cheek. "I'm glad you're happy. You deserve to be." Then he left. A few moments later, she heard him talking to McCoy. "He is happy for us?" She looked up, saw Spock at the doorway. "He is. And aren't you supposed to be in command if he's down here?" "Mister Sulu is more than capable. And I wanted to see you." The look he gave her was full of tenderness and desire. She smiled at him. Then she yawned. "I'm exhausted. In a good way." "I suppose I must allow you some sleep tonight?" She could feel her smile turn into a leer. "I'm not so sure about that. I can go quite a while with no sleep. I did it before." His look changed, became tenderer but also more firm. "I will not have you get to that state because of me." He reached out his hand to her. She reached back, their fingertips barely touching. She smiled up at him. "I'll see you later?" "I was anticipating that." "Good." He dropped his hand, and she heard McCoy and Kirk coming back. "Why, Spock. Did you come to see me?" McCoy looked into the office, winked at her. "Because I know you didn't wander all the way down here just to talk to Christine." Spock raised an eyebrow and she laughed. Kirk pulled McCoy away. "We'll leave you two alone. Although I could have sworn I gave you the conn, Spock." He grinned at her, then followed McCoy out. "Guess you should get up to the bridge." He nodded, turned to go, then looked back at her. "I am...glad that I melded with V'ger." She smiled. "So am I." They stared at each other, the moment stretching out impossibly. Then he turned and left. A second later he was back, closing her door, hitting the privacy screens, and then turning to her, pulling her into his arms for a very long, very loving kiss. She let herself fall into him, into the moment, into the love she felt for him, the love she'd never stopped feeling for him but had been so afraid to acknowledge. "I love you," he whispered. Then he was gone. She smiled. Wondered if Will was looking down on her now from wherever he was, smiling that she was finally happy. She hoped so. FIN -- Stephen Ratliff ASC Stories Only Forwarding In the Pattern Buffer at: http//trekiverse.crosswinds.net/feed/ Yahoo! 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