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Date: Sat, 5 Jun 2004 18:18:29 -0500
Subject: [ASCEM-S] NEW:  TOS Doctor [R] 5/5 K/Ch, ChFF
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TITLE: Doctor
AUTHOR: Djinn
CONTACT: djinn@djinnslair.com http://www.djinnslair.com
SERIES: TOS
RATING: R
CODES: K/Ch, Chapel Fic Fest
PART: 5/5
DISCLAIMERS: Paramount and Viacom own these characters--I'm just 
warping canon.
SUMMARY: Sequel to "Nurse."  The continuing look at Chapel through 


The conference room is full and Christine gulps as she looks out at 
the group.  Then she tries to remember all the things Jim told her.  
He has worked with her for months, even pulled others in.  She 
thinks there isn't one of her friends who couldn't give this lecture.

She wonders if any of them will speak to her when she gets back.

She feels a moment of panic as the moderator introduces her, another 
one as she begins her talk. But then the practice--and the fact that 
she does know her material backwards and forwards--kicks in, and she 
begins to enjoy herself.

Then the presentation is over, and hands go up in the room.  She 
sighs in relief; she was afraid no one would ask anything, except 
maybe when she was going to stop yammering and sit down.

She realizes as she answers the questions that she is having fun.  
One question from a young man in the back row is more complicated 
than the rest, making her dig past her recent research into her 
biochem background to answer it.  He follows it up with an even more 
complex question.  

She sees the moderator giving her the five minute warning, 
says, "We'll have to take that one offline."

He nods, stands up and goes to stand by the door, clearly not caring 
that he is being rude to the speaker who will follow her.  She walks 
over to him, pushes him into the nearest row with empty seats.

"I want to talk to you."

"And I want to hear Doctor Adams speak."

He gives her a pout that looks startlingly familiar.  She glances at 
his name tag.  Swallows hard.  

"What?"  He asks, narrowing his eyes.

His eyes aren't anything like Jim's.  A strange blue-green, not 
hazel.  And he doesn't really favor Jim in any way.  Until he 
grins.  It is Jim's grin.  

Which makes sense.  Since he is Jim's son.  

"Nothing.  Just be quiet so I can listen."

He rolls his eyes, but shuts up.  As soon as the lecture is over, he 
grabs her hand and draws her out of the conference room and down the 
hall.  He pulls her into a small meeting room that stands empty and 
shuts the door.

She almost laughs.  If Jim did that, it would be for one reason 
only.  But she sees David's impatience as he sits at the table and 
pulls out his padd.  He hands it to her, and she looks down and sees 
an equation and a bunch of notes.  Frowning, she studies it, then 
she looks up at him.  

"You can't be serious?"

"I've read your dissertation.  Yours is one of the only ones to 
speculate on the potential uses of protomatter."

She stares again at the equation.  "That was only a small portion of 
my dissertation.  And I never said it would be smart to use it.  Any 
reputable scientist knows it is highly unstable."

"Yeah, yeah, and damn near unethical to even discuss it."  He leans 
forward, brings up another screen.  "But what if it did this?"

She stares at the screen as it shows a strange 
effect.  "Acceleration.  Regeneration."

He shakes his head.  "No.  Gen-eration.  New.  This is new growth, 
new life."

She bites her lip as she watches the numbers growing.  "You're 
involved in terra-forming?"

He smiles.  "Something like that."  He hands her another padd.  

She frowns.  It is a standard Starfleet non-disclosure agreement.  
He's Starfleet?  "How old are you?"

"Old enough.  Just sign and I can show you the rest of this, Doctor 
Chapel."  He smiles at her, this time the expression is a little 
shy.  "Or can I call you Christine?"

"Sure," she says absently as she reads the agreement then presses 
her finger against the padd.  It accepts her agreement, beeps and 
shows that her clearances have just been upgraded.  

He presses the other padd into her hand.  "We're eighteen months 
away from start-up.  That's when we're going to need you."

"Why me?" 

He smiles.  "Isn't it time you put those great ideas you had when 
you were my age to the test?"  He leans in.  "We both know 
protomatter can be harnessed.  And safely.  I feel it in my guts and 
I know you do too."  He laughs. "I read your supporting research 
too.  There was a lot more in that about protomatter than in the 
actual dissertation."

"I was warned to tone it down."  She looks down.  She's never told 
anyone her advisor made it clear that if she wanted to graduate, she 
would redo her dissertation, or at least the part on protomatter.

"I'm not advertising my interest in it widely either."  He smiles--a 
smile that seems to include her in a very small, very select, and 
very smart group.  "My dissertation won't even mention it.  But I'm 
not ruling it out for the project--if other methods don't show 
fruit.  You can help me with those too.  The other methods."  He 
smiles again.  "For now, it's just hypothetical.  Even others on the 
project don't need to know.  Especially not my mother.  Got that?"

She nods, is still trying to catch up with what he has 
said.  "You're still working on your dissertation?"

He grins, this time the expression reminds her less of Jim because 
there is something calculated in his expression.  "That's one of the 
things we're waiting for.  Me graduating."  He laughs and takes the 
padds from her.  "I have to go.  There's someone else I want to 
catch up with on a different matter."  He stands.  "You know you 
can't discuss this conversation with anyone?"

"I did read the agreement."

"Yeah, well, I like to remind people of that.  Especially people who 
serve with overzealous Starfleet captains."

She looks up at him.  Does he know that Jim is his father after 
all?  "You mean Captain Kirk?"

He nods.  "Rumor is he's your lover."  He shakes his head.  "What is 
it with you brainy types and that overgrown boy scout?"

She laughs. The title may fit Jim--he is always prepared.  But she 
still doesn't know if David thinks that he's insulting his father or 
just some ex-lover of his mother.  And of his new-found kindred 
spirit.

"Not a word, Christine.  I'll be in touch."  And he hurries out the 
door.

He certainly leaves her as breathless as Jim does, if for completely 
different reasons.

She wanders out of the meeting room, sees that the break is winding 
down.  She attends the last session but has a hard time 
concentrating.  It's been a long time since she thought about 
protomatter.  But David was right.  Back in her youth, she was sure 
that it could be used--and used safely.

She sighs.  It's utter folly to think of that now.  If she were to 
mention her old ideas to anyone in the audience they would look at 
her like she'd lost her mind.  And rightly so.

But still.  What if it could be harnessed?  

She sighs.  Protomatter is unstable.  Possibly as unstable as that 
handsome young man's enthusiasm for it.   She should forget all 
about this meeting.

The audience claps and she does too.  But she has heard none of the 
lecture.  She looks around, sees that David has come in, is standing 
at the back.  He smiles at her as if he knows exactly what she is 
thinking about so hard.  He makes a zipping motion across his 
lips.   She turns around.  

When the session is finally over, she hurries out and up to her room 
and comms the Enterprise.  

"Chris."  Jim is in his quarters, has his robe on. 

She feels herself relaxing.  Just seeing him is good for her 
psyche.  "Hi."

"How'd the talk go?  I was thinking of you a few hours ago."  

She smiles.  "It went great.  And I had questions and everything."

He grins.  "See.  I told you that you'd be wonderful.  Anything else 
exciting happen?"

She sees a blonde head, blue-green eyes sparkling at her.  "One of 
the people asking questions was this really bright kid.  Name of 
Marcus. Think he said his first name was David."  She smiles at Jim, 
teasing him.

He has a look of wonder in his eyes.  "My David."

She nods.  "Yep.  He obviously takes after you.  Very smart."

"His mother was no lightweight in the brains department either."  He 
grins.  "What are the odds?"  

"You'd have to ask Spock."  She smiles, and feels a twinge of guilt 
at the evasion.  But she can't tell him that David wanted to meet 
her, that there was nothing coincidental about his being in that 
room to listen to her.

"Did you talk to him much?"

She hesitates and he frowns.  She hurries to say.  "Just a little.  
It was sort of strange."  That at least wasn't a lie.

"I bet."  He smiles.  "He's a good kid?"

She remembers David's calculated smile, and the way he held 
protomatter out to her as if he were the serpent and it the 
apple.  "Seems like it."  Her tone doesn't support the words, but 
Jim doesn't seem to notice.

"My son.  The scientist."

"Yep."  She is afraid of what else he might ask so she changes the 
subject.  "Other than that, it's just been boring old conference 
stuff.  Presentations that don't work, speakers who don't show up, 
or worse, who do."

He laughs.  "Sorry to hear that.  Anyone mention what kind of 
assignment they're thinking of for you next?"

She wants to say, "Yes, I'm apparently going to help your son use 
protomatter to destroy the fabric of the universe."  But she can 
still see David zipping his lips, can still hear the padd's beep as 
she agreed to not talk about this.  She opens her mouth, but no 
words come out.

"Chris?"  He frowns.

"Just some research stuff.  Nothing too exciting.  I guess I'm a 
little disappointed."  She rubs at her temples, as if she has a 
headache, desperate for an evasion.  "Or maybe the excitement just 
caught up with me."

"If I were there, I'd make you feel much better."

She laughs.  This is much safer ground.  "I know you would."  

"Lie back and I'll do it right now."  He grins, mischief clear in 
his face.  "Or I'll tell you how to do it."

She does what he says.  And sincerely hopes that Starfleet doesn't 
decide to randomly audit the comm channel they're using.

----------------------

"God."  Len throws down his tricorder in anger.  "What the hell are 
we supposed to do here?   There's nothing but parts."

Christine closes her eyes; the scene is horrible.  Body parts lay 
all over, separated from the dead by those terrible Klingon axe 
things.  

A few Klingons lie dead, still holding onto their weapons, killed by 
the settlers.  But so few compared to how many of the settlers lie 
dead.

She opens her eyes.  The smell is horrible.  The Enterprise was 
nowhere near the planet when it was attacked.  The settlers didn't 
stand a chance.

If only they hadn't settled in this no-man's land on the border 
between Federation and Klingon space.  But that's where the empty 
hospitable words are.  The ones closer to the heart of the 
Federation are already settled or uninhabitable.  

Her mind wanders back to what David shared with her at the 
conference.  Terraforming:  it was the answer.  But it was so slow.  
If they could speed it up--the way he showed her.  It would be a 
miracle.  They could make a huge difference in the lives of future 
settlers.  Settlers who wouldn't have to die because the world they 
chose was too far away from the Federation to be adequately 
protected.

"Doctor McCoy," a security man calls.  "Over here."  

Len rushes over, helps him pull two children out from under the 
porch of one of the dwellings.  This is what they are finding.  
Entire towns slaughtered but for a handful of survivors.

Why?  Why did the Klingons have to do this?  They are animals.

She hears Jim echo her thought.  "Animals."  

She moves closer to him.  "How could they do this?"

He just shakes his head.

"There is no honor in this, Jim.  Isn't that what they are supposed 
to care about?  Honor?  Where is the honor in slaughtering unarmed 
farmers and miners?"

"I don't know, Chris."

"They weren't doing anything to the Klingons."

"The border's in dispute."  He holds up a hand at her look.  "I'm 
not saying that makes it right."

Len motions her over and she hurries to him.  "This little guy's 
going to be fine.  And I've scanned his sister.  She seems to be 
fine, but doesn't appear to want to talk to me.  Thought maybe you 
might want to give it a try?"  He leads the little boy off.  

Christine kneels down by the girl; she holds her arms open, not 
expecting the girl to respond.  But the child launches herself into 
them, nearly knocking her over.  

"It's okay.  I've got you."  She runs her hand down the girl's hair, 
gently feeling for bumps--the tricorder is fine, but she likes to 
use her hands too, feel for injuries not just scan for them. 

The child seems to respond to her touch.  She presses more firmly 
against her as Christine continues to stroke her hair.  She is dirty 
but does not appear to be hurt.  "Do you want to talk about what 
happened?"

The girl only sobs.

"What's your name?"

"Karla T'ovrala."  She pushes against Christine again, as if she 
would like to crawl inside her.  

Christine looks around at the carnage.  Maybe the child would like 
to crawl somewhere safe and anywhere but here.

"It's all right, Karla.  They're not going to hurt you."

The girl pulls away from her, begins to talk and now that she is 
finally talking the words come out in a rush.  "They didn't see us 
under there.  But I could see out.  I pushed Jemm away.  I didn't 
want him to see what they did to our father..."

Christine sighs.

"They're dead.  My father.  My mother.  My older sister.  She was 
the one who shot that Klingon over there." She walks over to the 
downed warrior and kicks him.  Over and over and over until 
Christine finally pulls her away.  

"Don't.  Honey, don't."

"Why not?  They hurt us; I want to hurt him!"

"I know.  But it won't make it even.  It won't make things any 
better."  Christine wonders if that is true.  If it makes Karla feel 
better, maybe she should let her do it.

"I hate Klingons," Karla says, then she sees two other children 
being led out of one of the houses and runs to them.  

Her brother slips away from Len and joins the other children too.  
Len watches him, then walks over to her.

"How many have we found?" she asks.

"Six including these four.  That's all the life signs we picked up 
in this town from orbit."

Six people.  Out of forty-six.

"Animals," she says again.

She's with Karla.  She hates Klingons.

-----------------------

She turns to look at Jim.  He's lying in bed and looks 
uncomfortable.  He's been hurt--again.  She sighs.  After four 
years, she should be used to this.  

But she never is.  Every time he shows up wounded in sickbay, her 
heart rushes to her throat and she is sure she will lose him.  It's 
silly and melodramatic and she knows better than to share her fears 
with him.  Especially, since half the time he walks in under his own 
power and it is nothing more than a scrape or a break that brought 
him to see them.  

She checks the sling around his arm.  The bones in his shattered arm 
are nearly regenerated, but Len wants to avoid putting any undue 
strain on the arm.  The sling doesn't really do that, but it annoys 
Jim enough to remind him he was wounded and he should take it easy 
on his arm while it's healing.  

But it makes him damn cranky to sleep with.  

He begins to pulls the sling off, and she makes a disapproving 
sound.  He glares at her.  "You wear it for a day and tell me it's 
not hard to sleep in."

She suspects Len may have given Jim the scratchy fabric on purpose.  
He hates repairing something he's already fixed once.  And with Jim, 
he's always having to do that.  The man is a menace when it comes to 
taking it easy on himself.

She smiles.  At least he isn't climbing rocks or trying out for the 
ship's gymnastic team.  He's not thrill seeking out of boredom--his 
injuries are just part of being captain of the Enterprise, as he 
defines it, of course.  Hands-on, devil-may-care, first into the 
breach, etcetera.

"What are you smiling about?"

"You."  She snuggles up against his good arm.  This isn't her normal 
side of the bed to sleep on, but it seemed better to not be bumping 
up against his hurt arm all night.  And she does tend to sleep close.

When she slept with Roger, he slept close to her or very far away--
nothing in between and all according to his mood and level of 
desire.  If she woke up and he was curled around her, it nearly 
always meant he wanted sex.  

Joe slept like a little kid.  Dead to the world with arms and legs 
akimbo.  They would start out curled together but always ended up 
apart.

Jim and she are always touching even if they are on opposite sides 
of the bed.  She often wakes up to find that he has reached out 
during the night to touch her arm, or that she has put her foot on 
his leg.  There is always some contact between them, and usually she 
wakes up to find them crushed together, front to front, or spooned, 
the one in back holding on firmly.  

She loves waking up with him.  She loves sleeping with him.  

She loves doing just about anything with him.

Except trying to make him mind when he is injured.

"You're just going to ignore my complaining and hope I fall asleep, 
aren't you?"

"Yep."

He kisses her forehead.  "I'm not going to."

"Oh."  She runs her hand down his stomach, down and down and he 
starts to laugh.

"You think you can distract me with that old trick?"  He looks over 
at her, smiling.  His expression changes as she begins to distract 
him in earnest.  "On the other hand, I do admire a doctor who takes 
matters into her own hands."

She laughs.  He does not talk for some time, and she moves down, 
avoiding the sling as she kisses her way to where her hand is 
causing all sorts of trouble.

His good hand follows her, rubbing her back, her head, then settling 
lightly on her neck, scratching gently across her skin.  His fingers 
tighten on her shoulder as he cries out softly and she moves back up 
and cuddles in again.  

"What were you saying?"

He kisses her.  "I have no idea."

She slowly strokes his hair and he moans happily and closes his 
eyes.  In minutes, he is asleep and she sighs in relief.  It's been 
a long day and she is exhausted.  She follows him into slumber.

------------------

The Ka'Vareth board mocks her.  She contemplates sacrificing one of 
her pieces for a better move three rolls down but knows that Spock 
will see through her ploy.  She sighs, studying the board some more.

"But for your sighing, your level of play is almost Vulcan."

"I'm sure that's supposed to be a compliment," she says, the smile 
she flashes showing that her grumbling is fake.

He nods.  "I believe you could hold your own at the annual 
tournament."  He leans in.  "That too is a compliment."

She laughs.  "You're just trying to get me to tell you the titles of 
my latest reference books, aren't you?  Well, I'm not going to.  I 
need some advantage."  She finally advances one of her pieces to a 
temporary safe spot.  It is a boring move, but a careful one at 
least.

And when did a Vulcan ever worry about being boring if prudence was 
served?

"So what are you going to do once this mission is completed?"  She 
looks over at Spock.  It is hard for her to believe that five years 
is nearly over.

"I believe I will accept Starfleet's offer of a billet at the 
Academy."  

"Shaping young minds appeals to you?"  She smiles.  

He is already shaping a few.  His ward Saavik is about to start at 
the Academy, clearly following in Spock's footsteps.  And, during 
their last stop at Vulcan, Christine and Jim met another young 
Vulcan who seemed to adore Spock.  Valeris was the quintessential 
girl next door who has a crush on the older, handsome neighbor boy, 
but she was still a Vulcan girl next door.  Without a doubt, one of 
the brightest young women Christine has ever met--and personable to 
boot.  In fact, she seemed to seek Christine out.  Seemed to 
actually enjoy spending time with humans.

Or maybe it is just that Spock enjoys spending time with humans and 
Valeris wants Spock.  Christine isn't sure it matters.  The girl 
charmed her, whatever her motives.

And she's not one to lecture someone for their crush on Spock.  Lord 
knows she suffered long enough.

Although in Valeris's case it might not stay one-sided.  Christine 
had the impression that Spock was surprised at how his little 
neighbor was growing up.    

"You are thinking about something amusing?"  Spock shoots her a wary 
glance.  He knows most of her looks by now.  Probably realizes she 
is thinking about something that affects him--and not necessarily in 
the most dignified way.

"I was thinking about Valeris.  She impressed me."  She pauses, 
waits for the kill.  "And you too, I think?"

He gives her a long-suffering glance.  Since she gave up on him, she 
occasionally plays matchmaker.  He resists all her attempts to fix 
him up.

"Valeris is a most gifted young woman."

"Uh huh."   She says, watching as he moves his piece strangely.  Has 
she rattled him, or has he just set another trap for her?  "So, 
you'd never notice that she is also very attractive."

"She is also very young."

"Well, young women have a way of growing up, Spock."  She looks up 
from the board and grins at him.  She has rattled him.  A combo move 
puts her four slots away from the win.

He almost frowns.

"Distracted, Spock?"

"If I am, it is because you insist on prattling about irrelevant 
things."

"Ooh.  Testy."  She rubs her hands together.  "You only get testy 
when you know you've lost."  She leans back, sips at the Vulcan tea 
he's gotten her hooked on.  

"I have not yet lost."  He moves some pieces around in a daring, if 
futile, arrangement.

She quickly counters.  This game is hers, but if he wants to prolong 
the agony, she won't stop him.  "So you don't think she's 
attractive?"

"I did not say that."

"So you do?"

He sighs.  "Christine, there are times I preferred our interaction 
when you were in pursuit of me.  You were far less aggressive."

She laughs.  Several new crewman sitting nearby look over, as is if 
in shock that she could find anything a Vulcan says amusing.  She 
winks at one of them.  Maybe someday he'll get to know a Vulcan up 
close and personal, and realize how wrong he is.

"See, you are trying to distract me, but I won't fall for it.  Why 
don't you just answer the question?"

"There were too many questions.  I have lost track." He makes his 
move, a slightly desperate, almost reckless attempt to get the 
advantage back.

It is futile.  She blocks easily.  "Bull.  You never lose track."  
She watches him as he studies the board.  "But you may be partly 
right.  I'm happy with Jim; I'd like to see you happy with someone.  
And I really like Valeris."

He gives her the eyebrow.

"Would it be so wrong to double date?"  

The look he gives her answers that question.

"It was just an idea.   Maybe by the time she is old enough for you 
to date, you'll think better of the concept?"

"There are always possibilities."

She laughs.  It is a stock phrase of his that, when he says it to 
her, means, "There's not a snowball's chance in hell of that 
happening, but dream on."

He moves again, a last-ditch effort to throw her off.  "What do you 
intend to do when we return to Earth?"

She pretends to study the board.  David has been in touch several 
times.  He is definitely wooing her away from the other offers she's 
received.  She hates to admit how much his ideas excite her.

Or how guilty she feels that she isn't telling Jim about the comms.

"Research probably."  She moves several of her pieces off the 
board.  There is no way he can win now.  Even he has to see that.  
She is in the last stage while he is still protecting himself.

"You wish to remain with Jim?"  He sees her look and says, "I mean 
of course, located with him.  I did not intend to imply anything 
about the endurance of the relationship."

She laughs.  A bit nervously.  Her own guilt is coloring her 
reactions to his innocent comments.  "Yes.  I want to be with him.  
I've had him for most of five years.  I can't imagine being split up 
now."

"Nor do I think he will allow it.  You know that the Academy has 
offered him a position?  Under Admiral Cartwright, I believe?"

She nods.  She can't believe he is considering it, not after how 
much he hated being on Earth the last time.  But he is considering 
it.  And she knows it is for them.

"What do you think?"  She looks at him.

"I believe his first, best destiny is on a ship."

"I'm with you there, my friend.  This ship in particular.  But what 
if they won't give her to him?"

Spock steeples his fingers.  He has abandoned the game, a silent 
statement of defeat.  "They will not give him this one.  She will be 
used as a training vessel."

"Really?"  She wonders if Jim knows that.  Thinks that he must, if 
Spock already knows.  He probably didn't tell her because the 
thought hurts too much.  Or because the Enterprise truly is out of 
reach now and there is no reason to even address the possibility of 
keeping her.  He can be practical.

Jim and Len wander in and Spock puts the board away, but not before 
tipping one of his pieces over so she knows he is acknowledging the 
loss, and is not just making more room at the table.  

Jim and Len sit down.  The four of them will talk for a while; the 
sessions get longer each night.  As if they know they should enjoy 
each other's company while they still can.  


---------------------------

She is packing the last of her things.  There is nothing left to go 
in the trunk so she closes it up and pulls it outside the door next 
to Jim's.  She sees others in the corridor.  The quartermaster's 
shop will be along soon to collect and forward them to wherever 
their owners end up.

She sighs.  There is a trunk outside the quarters that used to be 
hers.  She gave the rooms up last year.  There was no point in 
holding onto them anymore.  She and Jim seemed destined for the long 
haul, and it was a waste of resources to keep the space when she was 
never in it.

She goes in the bathroom, stares at her face.  Five years older. But 
she looks happy.  And maybe even younger because of that happiness.  

She hears the door open, hears Jim call softly, "Chris?"

She walks out, sighs.  "Stem to stern?"  

He nods.  He has been saying goodbye to his ship--to his other 
lady.  No deck will have been neglected.  He has been gone for some 
time.

She realizes with a start that she is crying, and he opens his arms 
to her.  She rushes to him, sobbing as he holds her tightly.

"I don't want to leave."

"I know, Chris."  His arms tighten around her.  "We've been so happy 
here."

She closes her eyes. His words are what she would have said.  They 
have been so happy here.  Neither of them knows what the future will 
bring.  Or how well they will do in it.

She thinks they are both more than a little scared.

"I love you," she says fiercely.  "I will love you forever."  She 
dares the universe to argue with that.

"I love you," he is pushing her back, onto the bed with the sheets 
and blankets that ships services will pick up once the crew has 
gone, just as they delivered them at the start of every week.  

She kisses him, pulling her onto him. 

Their lovemaking is frantic, almost desperate.  As if with each kiss 
and thrust and touch they can pull some of the Enterprise inside 
them.

As if she can keep them safe and together.

When they finally lie quietly, he looks over at her.  "I don't know 
what the future will bring."

"I know."

"I want to say that we'll be together forever, but I don't know 
that.  I do know I'll fight for you."

She kisses him fiercely.  "I'll fight for you too."

He brushes her hair from her face, then gently strokes her 
cheek.  "And I also know this.  I will never, ever love anyone as 
much as I love you."

She nods.  "I know.  I'm not sure I could ever love anyone else 
after this.  I think you've ruined me."

He kisses her and she feels him against her and opens her legs and 
this time the sex is slow and easy and full of love.  

They've talked about it finally, the specter between them has a name 
and it's called the future.  

It's scary, and it brings things they cannot see.

But they'll face it together.    

She won't think of bad things.  She loves Jim.  He loves her.  Why 
shouldn't that last?

They dress slowly.  He grabs his bag, hefts hers onto his other 
shoulder.  He holds out his hand and she takes it.  He looks back--
one last glance at the room that holds so much love.  She wonders if 
the next occupant, whoever that might be, will feel their love still 
resonating in the walls and carpet and furniture.

"Let's go," Jim says as he leads her out of his quarters and to the 
transporter room.

And she follows him.  To their future.

Whatever it may bring.


FIN




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