Path: newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.atl.earthlink.net!stamper.news.pas.earthlink.net!elnk-pas-nf1!newsfeed.earthlink.net!pd7cy1no!shaw.ca!feed.cgocable.net!border2.nntp.dca.giganews.com!border1.nntp.dca.giganews.com!nntp.giganews.com!newsread.com!newsstand.newsread.com!POSTED.monger.newsread.com!not-for-mail Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative.erotica.moderated Approved: ascem@earthlink.net Organization: Better Living Thru TrekSmut Sender: ascem@earthlink.net Message-ID: From: "djinn_fic" MIME-Version: 1.0 Mailing-List: list ASCEML@yahoogroups.com; contact ASCEML-owner@yahoogroups.com Subject: NEW: TOS Urges 1/2 [R] K/Ch ChFF Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Lines: 780 Date: Mon, 18 Oct 2004 02:55:04 GMT NNTP-Posting-Host: 209.198.142.218 X-Complaints-To: Abuse Role , We Care X-Trace: monger.newsread.com 1098068104 209.198.142.218 (Sun, 17 Oct 2004 22:55:04 EDT) NNTP-Posting-Date: Sun, 17 Oct 2004 22:55:04 EDT Xref: news.earthlink.net alt.startrek.creative.erotica.moderated:85125 X-Received-Date: Sun, 17 Oct 2004 19:55:08 PDT (newsspool2.news.atl.earthlink.net) TITLE: Urges AUTHOR: Djinn CONTACT: djinn@djinnslair.com http://www.djinnslair.com SERIES: TOS RATING: R CODES: K/Ch, ChFF PART: 1/2 SUMMARY: A routine landing party leads to some strange behavior. Kirk watched the landing party mill around the ruins. They looked bored. As bored as he felt. Scotty was muttering something to himself as he walked by, studying his tricorder as if he hoped it might find something interesting. Sulu looked like he was thinking more about the upcoming fencing tournament--he stood a good chance of taking first this year--than about what he was supposed to be scanning for. The men and women from security stood around, trying to look busy even though there was nothing to guard or fight on this barren world. "Why are we here, sir?" Kirk turned, saw Nurse Chapel trying to suppress a yawn. Trying and failing. "Because, Ms. Chapel, Starfleet Command told us to come here. This planet is likely to be annexed by the Duralians. Command wants to make sure we're not giving up anything strategic before we hand it over." "Since when are ruins considered strategic?" She seemed to realize her tone wasn't the most respectful she'd ever used on him. "Sorry." He shrugged. "Then why am I here?" Kirk laughed. "Bones didn't want to come?" "I'll buy that." She sighed. "Okay, I'll go back to waiting for someone to skin their knee." She grinned at him. "Or maybe get a blister or a splinter or anything." "You've made your point, Chris. Go back to work--err, non-work." She nodded, pulling out her tricorder. "Might as well make myself useful so we can get off this rock." She wandered off toward the security detachment, nodding pleasantly at Spock as they passed. "Captain, I am uncertain what Starfleet hopes to ascertain by this exercise." "They hope to ascertain nothing, Spock. They've deemed this a dead world. But two scans are better than one, in this case. I guess they just want us to confirm what they already know." Spock seemed to be trying not to yawn too. If this assignment even bored a Vulcan, they really were epitomizing futile. Kirk was about to say more when he felt a chill come over him, as if someone had opened the door to a refrigerated cargo bay. He shivered. "Strange breeze." "Captain?" Spock looked at him curiously. "Just now, didn't you feel it? Cold air--like it had been hyper- chilled." "I felt nothing like that, Jim." Kirk rubbed his arms, trying to warm up. "Perhaps you should go back to the ship?" Spock looked like he wished he'd thought of pretending to come down with a case of the chills to get out of shore duty. "I will take over here." Kirk made a face. "I don't need to go up to the ship, Spock." Then he laughed. "I want to go up there, but I don't need to." "As you wish." Spock motioned for Chapel to come over. "Please scan the captain to determine if there is any reason for him to feel chilled." "There's a cold draft here, Spock. Can't you feel it?" She saw his face and smiled. "I guess not. Okay, I'll scan him." She waited for Spock to leave before asking, "Was it like you'd just walked into cold storage?" He nodded. "Me too. I better see if anyone else noticed it." She looked up from her tricorder. "Nothing physically wrong with you, sir. No medical reason for the chills." "Good to know, Chris." He motioned toward the others. "Check them out. I'm going to walk around to warm up." He rubbed at his arms again, felt a shiver run down his spine. What the hell was wrong with him? Then he noticed Chapel's expression was off too. "It just happened again. And you felt it too, didn't you?" She met his eyes, nodded. Her expression was more puzzled than concerned. "I'll go scan the others, sir." He nodded, watching her go first to Scotty, who shook his head as she talked to him. She scanned the engineer then glanced back at Kirk, shaking her head slightly before moving on to Sulu. Kirk watched her as she walked from crewman to crewman--had her legs always been so long? Regulation boots looked terrific on her. "Jim?" Spock looked over at Chapel, as if to see what had his captain so fascinated. "Are you all right?" Kirk wanted to tell him that just because Spock didn't want to look at her didn't mean he couldn't. Except that he couldn't--or shouldn't. She was a member of his crew. He did not admire the legs of members of his crew. Or at least not obviously enough for his first officer to figure out what he was doing. He turned to Spock, smiling easily. "I'm fine, Spock. Why do you ask?" He knew his look dared Spock to make something of his sudden interest in Chapel's legs. "A momentary concern," Spock said softly, then walked away. Kirk smiled, feeling a bit like a teenager. He looked over at Chapel again, was surprised when she seemed to sneak a look at him too. She appeared to be embarrassed that he'd caught her looking because she blushed and looked away. He felt the chill again, less strong this time, and rubbed at his arms absently. "Sir," Sulu said as he closed his tricorder with a snap. "There's nothing here." Scotty looked up and nodded. "Aye, sir. We've got more than enough data to back that assessment up. This planet is a wasteland, just as the first survey team indicated." "All right," Kirk said, glad to be getting off the dust ball--the Duralians could have it with his blessing. "Let's get out of here." As soon as the team took their places near him--and they did that with record speed, he noticed--he called for beam out. The Enterprise materialized around them, welcoming and warm. But not warm enough to stop him from shivering slightly again. As the rest of the landing party began to file out, he looked over at Chapel and saw her rub her arms. "Nurse?" Both she and Spock turned around. "I wasn't aware you were a nurse, Mister Spock." "I am not. But if this has to do with the chill you were feeling, then I am interested in what you have to say to Nurse Chapel." A wave of frustration surged through Kirk. Spock needed to go away. He needed to go away now. The chill came over him again, but this time it felt good. He saw that Chapel was staring at him, her mouth open just the slightest bit. He suddenly wondered what her lips would feel like under his own. He realized Spock was talking. "What?" "Captain, I said that perhaps you should be checked out by Doctor McCoy--" "--Good idea, Spock. I'll go with Nurse Chapel." He shot Spock his best "don't worry about me, I'm fine" grin. Spock didn't look convinced, but he didn't follow them. As Kirk entered the lift behind Chapel, he said, "I don't want to go to sickbay." She didn't look at him until the doors had closed. "I don't either, sir." She was moving toward him, and her eyes were dark, nearly all pupil. He wondered if his were in the same state. "Hold lift," he told the computer, as he pushed her against the wall, kissing her frantically. It had been so long since they'd touched... Before he could analyze that thought, she moaned, rubbing up against him frantically. He pulled her closer. Her lips felt great under his. Just like they always had-- --Just like they always had when? He'd never kissed her before. Frowning, he pulled away from her. "I'm sorry. I had no right to do that." She was touching her lips, as if not quite believing he'd kissed her. Her eyes were blue again; the pupils had gone back to their normal size. "It's all right." Her voice was low, and she moved away from him, closer to the door, as if ready to run out of the lift. "I won't hurt you." Looking up at him, she seemed to shiver. "It's not you I'm afraid of, sir." She looked down. "Spock was right. McCoy needs to examine both of us." "I'm not sure it's very flattering that you think we need to have our heads examined just for kissing." Winking at her, he tried to make the moment light, to pretend that he had not just made out with a member of his crew for no reason except that it felt so damn good. He could still feel her lips under his, her mouth opening to let him in. He shuddered with cold...and with desire. He wanted her...wanted her badly. He'd never wanted her before. Why now? She was staring at the floor as if salvation lay somewhere buried away under their feet. "Am I your type, Chris?" She shook her head. "I know I'm not yours either." "I wasn't aware I had a type." She looked up, met his eyes. "Brainy, beautiful, commanding. I may have one of those characteristics." She looked down again. "I'm not stupid. But the rest..." "You're not exactly ugly either." She met his eyes; her smile didn't quite make it. "I'm attractive. On a good day maybe I'm pretty. But beautiful? Huh-uh." She scanned him, as if desperate for something to do. "And I'm hardly commanding." The lift doors opened, saving him from answering. She smiled at him as he gestured for her to go first. "It's okay, sir. I don't have a lot of illusions about myself." "Maybe you do about me." She seemed to have nothing to say to that. -------------- "Well, Jim, I can't find anything wrong." McCoy entered something into a padd, scanning him again and crosschecking against the tricorder Chapel was holding. "Nothing wrong with either of you, as far as I can tell." They hadn't told him about what had happened in the lift. They hadn't discussed keeping it from him, but neither of them had volunteered any information on their sudden need to lock lips. "Then I'm cleared for duty, Bones?" Kirk asked as he hopped off the table. The movement brought him close to Chapel, and she moved away quickly. "You weren't ever off duty, my friend." McCoy hadn't noticed how fast Chapel had moved away, or that Kirk's hand had come up, reaching for her. Chapel didn't miss it though; she fled into her office. "Something else wrong with her?" McCoy apparently didn't miss as much as Kirk thought he had. "Did something happen--or not happen-- with Spock down on the planet?" Kirk felt an irrational surge of jealousy. Why did it have to be something to do with Spock? Couldn't she be upset over Kirk? That was a stupid thing to think. "No," he said, keeping his voice as casual as he could. "I'm sure she's fine." He wanted to make sure she was. Perhaps he should invite her to his quarters later? "Jim, maybe you should stay here. You seem a little off." "I'm not sure I buy the medical validity of a diagnosis of 'a little off,' Bones." It was a lie. He bought it; he just didn't like it. Not when his shift was almost over, and he had very private quarters that he could invite Chris to visit him in-- He headed for the door, shooting McCoy the same grin that had failed to convince Spock. McCoy looked just as non-impressed. "I'll come back if I notice any other symptoms. I promise." He tried not to look at Chapel as he left. He failed, and was gratified to see that she was staring at him too, a look of open longing on her face. She suddenly seemed aware of how she was looking at him. Her face flushed an interesting shade of red, and she turned away quickly. Hurrying out of sickbay, he forced himself not to think of her as he headed for the lift that would take him to the Bridge. Spock looked up as he walked to his chair. "I'm fine, Spock." Kirk took the padd a young yeoman handed him. She was new, very pretty in a bubbly "I'm twenty and you're not" way. Kirk realized he wasn't particularly drawn to her, didn't feel the need to walk her back to the turbolift and join her inside for a kissing fest. So it was just Chapel he wanted? Damned odd. Not that she wasn't a nice woman. She was. But he'd only ever thought about her as nice, not as someone he wanted. This sudden desire for her didn't make sense. He glanced over at Spock. Normally, he'd discuss such odd behavior with his first officer, but somehow it seemed like a betrayal of Chapel to discuss this with someone who he knew she had a crush on. He realized his hands were clenched and forced himself to relax. So she had a crush? On his best friend. So what? She'd had it for years. It was nothing new. Why did it suddenly bother him? His shift wore on and on. Pushing himself out of his chair, he wandered the bridge, finally ending up beside Uhura, talking quietly with her about the incoming comms. She was an attractive woman. Why didn't he want her? Why the hell was Chapel the only woman he could think about? He forced himself to go to the mess hall with Spock and Bones. It took a few minutes, but he finally felt himself relaxing and enjoying the meal with this two best friends. They sat around talking long after their food was gone, until he picked up his tray and stood. "Much as I hate to bring this to an end, gentleman, I must." Riding the lift with them, he laughed at something Spock said that he probably did not intend to be funny but was. As they turned into their respective quarters, he bid them goodnight, continuing his walk down the corridor. Palming open his door, he found the lights on about one-quarter strength. "Computer, raise lights to--" "--Don't." He whirled. Chapel was sitting at his desk. Even in the low light, he could tell that she looked miserable. A wave of cold swept over him, then a wave of a different kind. Raw, hot lust. And something less raw, more tender. Love. He loved her. He had always loved her. He felt suddenly disoriented. "Get out, Chris." She stood, her face so full of the same need he was feeling that he almost went to her. She swallowed hard and must have seen something in his face that seemed to give her resolve. She bit back her desire, and then she fled. He held out a hand to her, wanted to call her back, but the words wouldn't come. He settled for locking the door, temporarily restricting her medical override access to his quarters. The computer tried to argue with him, but he won the debate. Chris couldn't get into his quarters again without his knowledge or permission. She couldn't get to him. That thought left him feeling strangely bereft. --------------------- His dreams were strange. He walked through an ornate structure, paying no attention to the beauty that surrounded him. He'd been off world for a week. Was home early because he'd missed her so. Now he was looking for her, but she was nowhere. He walked and walked and finally turned a corner. A wave of chill hit him. He felt love surround him, then the cold again. He started to cry, wiped his eyes and told himself to get hold of his emotions. Nothing was wrong. Why should he think something was wrong? Why should he think something terrible had happened...to her? Then he heard her weeping from somewhere close beside him, but when he whirled to pull her to him, she wasn't there. Where was she? He felt another chill roll through him, shuddered from the intensity of the feelings that came over him, as if he'd been taken into her arms and had her love poured into him. Love and fear and some strange kind of forgiveness that he didn't understand. "Come out," he yelled but there was no one there, although the feeling of her being near him didn't go away. His need to find her increased in the face of this strange communion with no one. He hurried through the house, running now. She must be there. Somewhere she was waiting for him as she did every night. He ran back into his bedroom. It was the first place he had checked, but this time he walked all the way into it and saw a man-- one of the guards, probably, except that he was not wearing a uniform--lying on his back on the far side of the bed, a weapon's exit burn clear on his back. Someone had held the gun on him a long time to get the burn to go through his chest and out his back. Someone had been very angry. He noticed that the door to the courtyard was open. His heart sank when he saw a dark lump lying in the shadows of the courtyard outside the bedroom. "No." The sound came out broken. No. It could not be. He ran to the pile of clothes, praying that one of the servants had dropped some old rags there by accident. But these were not old rags. They were fine fabrics, made dark with the blood that had flowed out of the slashed throat of the woman he'd been searching for. She must have run, must have tried to get away when the guard had been killed. Must have run and not made it. Whoever had done this had caught her before she could get to the gate and raise the alarm. Her blood was still warm. She had not been dead long. Why hadn't she screamed? He would have come running. If she'd just screamed. "No," he cried, as he cradled her to him, uncaring of the blood that covered him now too. His heart broke as he held her. His love for her burst inside him, filling him--nearly drowning him. He knew in his heart that he would never be all right again. And that he would never stop looking for her. Guilt flooded him. "No." This time the word came out as a scream. A scream that woke Kirk. He sat up in bed, heart pounding in his chest. Calling for lights, he was surprised to see the room go blurry around him and reached up to brush at his eyes. He was crying? It was just a dream. An odd, unsettling dream. But nothing more than that. Suddenly, his chime rang. "Come," he said. Chapel rushed in. She looked wild, her hair mussed, her clothes akimbo as if she had pulled them on halfway and then run from her room. As she stood near his door, breathing fast, he realized she was crying too. She moved in closer, and her pupils went black, and cold seemed to fill the room. "I think I died," she said, the words squeaking out of her past the sobs that she seemed unable to control. "I don't even know who I was, or even if it's me. But I think I died." He felt sorrow roll over him, and guilt. Deep, abiding guilt. This was his fault. He'd brought her there, he'd been the one who'd-- --What in the hell was he talking about? She wasn't dead. She was right in front of him. Right in front of him and slowly pulling her shirt off. "I'm so cold," she said. He wondered why she thought taking off her clothes would help with that. Then he quit wondering about anything as she pulled off her bra, her breasts spilling out. The rest of her clothes followed, and he forgot how to breathe. He realized suddenly that he was naked too. Why had he gone to bed naked? "I'm cold," she said again, shivering slightly. He held the sheet up, the invitation clear as he patted the space next to him. She nearly ran to him, settling into his bed, her skin freezing against his own. He must warm her up. Under his hands, her body lost its chill, her lips turned soft and fiery as he kissed her. When he pushed himself into her, he found the core of her hot and strong. She pulled him closer, and he moaned loudly. How long had it been since they'd been together? He had a sudden vision. Her but not her. Held in his arms, blood everywhere, neck slashed viciously. "Chris," he moaned, even as another name echoed in his mind. A name he couldn't quite make out. She cried out, her head thrown back, her legs tightening around him as she clenched and shuddered. He kissed her as she floated down, his body still moving against her, causing her to shudder again as he rubbed against too-sensitive parts. He wouldn't stop. Couldn't stop. She arched as he pushed her harder. Her arms tightened around him, the feeling so familiar he almost wept as he went to the same pleasurable place he'd sent her to. "I love you," he said, and the words seemed to echo strangely in the room. He was suddenly fully aware that he was having sex with a woman he'd only ever had a casual friendship with before. Actually, he was having great sex with her. But still, it wasn't as if there was any precedent for this closeness. She didn't even call him Jim. Probably wasn't sure what the hell to call him now. He tried to pull away, but her legs still held him in place. "Chris?" She seemed to snap back to full awareness, her pupils no longer threatening to swallow her eyes. Her hands on his back seemed to shake, and she unwrapped her legs quickly, pushing him off her. He suddenly felt hurt, knew it was irrational, but couldn't get rid of the feeling. Would she prefer it if she'd been having sex with Spock? He pushed the thought aside. She rolled to her side, hiding herself from him. But her bare back was temptation enough. He found himself reaching out to touch her, to stroke her and rub her and try to make her feel better. She groaned as he massaged her back, finally said, "What just happened?" "We had sex." She laughed at that, and the sound of her laughter was a relief to him. "I know that, sir. But why?" She slowly turned over, holding the sheet in place so it covered her. He had the sudden urge to yank the sheet down. They'd just had sex. Covering up now seemed a little stupid. She stared at him, her expression going from confused to helpless. "Something's wrong. I want you so badly." She seemed to realize what she'd said. "Let me rephrase that a bit." "Please do," he said, moving closer to her despite the inner voice that whispered that it might not be a good idea to press his body to hers if he wasn't intending to have sex with her again in the very near future. She tried again. "I mean that--" He kissed her and pulled the sheet away. He didn't know why he was so drawn to her. And suddenly, he didn't care. She didn't seem to care either, crawling on top of him, riding him and controlling him and finally collapsing onto him. "I lost you," she said, her voice full of a sadness he knew he had never caused her. Yet her words were true. She had lost him and he had lost her. And now they were together again. "I love you," she whispered. Again he was back in that courtyard, cradling her body, kissing her face. A face that looked nothing like the Chapel he knew, but that didn't stop him from tracing the contours of her face and comparing it to that hazy memory. Chapel was as familiar as air and sunshine. And she was a complete mystery to him. She smiled lazily as he touched her, her eyes soft and sleepy, and he smiled. "You may not think you're beautiful, but you look beautiful right now." Her smile grew, then it faded as he sighed and dropped his hand. What the hell were they doing? She opened her eyes. "Do you want me to go?" Her voice was very small, and she couldn't meet his eyes. He knew he should say yes. Whatever was making them want each other, it wasn't right. But instead of answering her, he rolled them both to their sides, wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her gently until she closed her eyes and fell asleep. He watched her for a few minutes, trying to separate the strange mournful yearning he felt for her from the true affection he had for his head nurse. It was impossible to pull the feelings apart. She was just a member of his crew, and she was also the woman he loved more than life itself. He finally told himself to stop thinking and get some rest--they'd sort this out in the morning. He followed her into sleep, finding her warm body pressed close to his a huge comfort. ------------ In his sleep, Kirk fought the pull of another dream, his conscious mind trying to maintain control. He could feel Chris lying next to him, could hear her moaning. But he also felt as if he was falling into an endless pit, and he wondered if he would die when he finally hit bottom, or if he would just know the truth. He hit bottom and he did not die. Nor did he wake up. He lay trapped for a moment, somewhere in between, lying on his back in the beautiful house his mind insisted on identifying as his own. The house was cold, winter had set in, causing the marble, which was never warm even in the heat of summer, to turn frigid. He felt as if he was being frozen alive. Then he heard her voice. She was calling to him. Somewhere deep in his unconscious mind, he realized it was Chapel calling out for him. He'd probably roused her as he'd fought the pull of the dream, and her hands moved along his back as if to soothe him. In the dream, Kirk pushed himself off the floor, walking quickly to the bedroom he shared with her. He shivered as he walked, remembering a conversation with his best friends. They did not like her. They did not want her here. She was an outsider, an offworlder. Yes, she was beautiful, but her ways were strange. Dangerous. She was causing trouble for them, and therefore for him. They wanted him to send her away. He could never send her away. Kirk tried to remember her name. Not Chris. Chris was next to him. But this woman who some other part of him loved, what was her name? "Melanya," Chapel murmured, as if tied into his dream. He felt her push him to his back and climb on top of him. The real woman was making love to him even as he pushed the door open and saw the other woman standing naked at the window, looking out at the courtyard. She turned as he walked in. Turned and walked quickly to him. There were tears in her eyes as she stripped his clothes off, as she pushed him onto the bed and climbed on top of him. He could hear Chapel crying too, could taste her tears as he pulled her down to kiss him. As she moved over him, he had a spark of vision. He saw himself, playing football back in Iowa, just a kid. Then he saw himself running over this desert world, enjoying a youth he'd never known. Iowa faded, the desert became more real, more vivid. This was home--his home. Summers were hot and dry, not hot and humid. He knew this place. He ruled this place. No, he was in command, but he did not rule. The Enterprise was his home, not some arid planet. As he struggled against the invading memories, Kirk felt a presence inside him, pushing at him...trying to take over. "Kellor," Chapel said softly, moaning as she moved faster. "I am here, my love," someone older seemed to answer her--from deep inside Kirk's consciousness. "I have come for you." "No!" Kirk forced himself awake, forcing her off him, trying to get this presence out of him by will alone. He'd pushed her too hard, and she slid off the bed, landing with a loud thump. He wanted to help her but was having too much trouble catching his breath. The room was freezing, the chill no longer just a draft, but an all-pervading cold that seemed to leech into his bones. It threatened to freeze him. Chapel pulled herself up and hurried to her clothes. "This isn't right. Something's very wrong." "They're inside us," he said, but she didn't seem to understand. He got out of bed, careful to walk far around her as he grabbed some clothes. "Go to sickbay. I'll join you there with Spock and Bones." He couldn't look at her. Was afraid he'd grab her and hold her and make love to her and forget how terrified he had just been. He was afraid he would forget that someone--Kellor, whoever he was-- had almost taken him over. "Jim," she saw his look, seemed to realize he had not told her she could call him that. "Sir," she tried again. "If you want to put me on report, I won't fight--" "--What I want is for you to get out of my quarters." It came out much too harsh. Her face was very red. "I'll be in sickbay," she said quickly as the doors closed behind her. He thought the room would warm up when she left, but if anything the temperature seemed to drop even more. He felt an overwhelming urge to go after her, to grab her up in his arms and never lose her again. He walked into the head, splashed water on his face. Warm water, warm and completely ineffective in chasing the cold away. He'd never lost Chapel. What the hell was going on? "Kirk to Spock," he said, punching his intercom. Spock answered quickly, probably up late working. "Spock here." "Can you come with me to sickbay? I think we have a problem." "I will meet you in the corridor." No questions asked. He needed Spock; Spock was there. It was how it worked. Probably one of the reasons Chapel had fallen in love with the Vulcan. Chapel...his mind derailed when he thought of her. So he had to not think of her. Or of her and Spock together. Would she ride the Vulcan the same way she had him? Controlling him, bringing him such intense pleasure. Was she doing it now? Having sex with Spock? That was ridiculous. He'd just talked to Spock, and Chapel had just left him. They weren't together. But they could be. How long had he been standing here? She might have gone directly to Spock's quarters. She might be on top of him now, laughing as Kirk talked to him. They could be doing it. After all, how long did it take to fu-- He shook his head, this time splashing cold water on his face. It didn't help. "Kirk to McCoy." It took McCoy a lot longer to answer. "What is it, Jim?" "I need you in sickbay. Meet Spock and me in the corridor." "I'm on my way." Bones never asked why, not when it was important, not when Kirk had this tone in his voice. Kirk wondered if Chapel loved Bones too. Another surge of jealousy rolled over him. What in the hell was wrong with him? She could be in love with whomever she wished. She could screw the entire crew if she wanted. It didn't matter to him. She didn't matter to him. Except she did matter to him. He thought about Spock and her together, and felt pure rage erupt. He wanted to throttle Spock, wanted to shoot him and keep shooting until he didn't come up. And Chris? He wanted to lay her down on the soft grass and make love to her one last time--violent, passionate love--and then pull out his knife and slip it along her lovely throat-- The chime brought him back. He was clenching his hands on the counter so hard he could feel the edge digging into his skin. When he let go and turned his palms over, he had dark red streaks where the material had bit in. He turned, walking to the door. Both Spock and McCoy were waiting for him. "Let's go, gentlemen," he said, trying desperately to keep his voice normal. But his voice shook as he spoke, and he saw Spock look over at McCoy. Ignoring them, Kirk hurried to sickbay, secure that they would follow him. End part 1 of 2 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ASCEM messages are copied to a mailing list. Most recent messages can be found at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ASCEML. NewMessage: