DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters
are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc and Viacom. The story contents are
the creation and property of Djinn and are copyright (c) 2012 by Djinn. This
story is Rated R.
Damaged
by Djinn
Kirk sat silently
while Chapel paced the small confines of the office he'd
commandeered to hold meetings in. Why
the hell had Starfleet built a ship without a proper office for its
captain? Once he got older and the
council actually listened to him instead of just handing him ships for being a
goddamned hero, he planned to suggest they make an office for their commanding
officers. It wasn't as if he could do
counseling in the middle of the bridge.
Although if he
had, he'd at least have had the moral support of the rest of the crew instead
of just the manic pacing of one silent nurse who hadn't wanted to tell Bones
and wouldn't tell Kirk what the hell was going on when she was off shift.
"What
happened?" He'd try the direct
approach. Chapel seemed no
nonsense. Why should he spend thirty
words when two would do?
She didn't look
offended, but she also didn't stop pacing or answer him, just shook her head,
trying to hide the bruises on her wrist, bruises that extended up her arm.
"Did you
fall?"
"Yes. Yes, I fell." Her tone was almost frantic. "What the hell difference does it
make? I told Leonard this..."
"Is someone
hurting you?"
She whirled on
him, and he pulled back involuntarily, surprised at the expression on her
face. Anger. Pain.
And resolve. "Leave me
alone."
He got up slowly,
hands out as if she were an unruly dog and not the ship's head nurse. "I just want to help."
"No one's
hurting me. I'm not even in a
relationship. I'm just a klutz,
okay? I was working out and I
slipped. This is the result. Len completely overreacted."
He studied her
face. She was trying to be calm, but she
wasn't calm. He knew the difference, had
seen it on his mother's face when she was trying to hide something his
stepfather had done. He also knew the
words were about as true as anything his mother had ever told him—he'd seen
Chapel in the gym and she wasn't a klutz.
But he'd fought
this battle and it was a losing one—if you fought it head on. "Okay, then. Just be more careful."
"Can I go?"
"By all means." He nodded at
the door, then felt stupid—she didn't need him to tell her how to leave a
room. Overcompensating: he was back to
where he'd been as a kid. Trying to make
it all right. Trying to tone things
down, cool things off.
As Chapel passed
him, he looked at her arm again. Finger
marks. Those were goddamn finger
marks. If she'd hurt herself working
out, the bruises would look different.
Someone on his
crew was hurting her.
As the door closed
behind her, he sighed. Someone on his
crew was hurting her and it was now his job to find out who.
##
Gaila looked at
Christine's arm and saw that the bruises were turning dark. Usually Christine fixed them with one of her
medical regenerators, but she'd had to take it back to sickbay for inventory
and had forgotten to bring it with her the last few nights. The bruises stood out like angry
recriminations, like words hanging in a room where the truth was never said. "I'm so sorry."
Christine saw what
she was looking at. "Forget about
it." She smiled, but the smile didn't
go to her eyes.
Gaila was a master at
reading expressions. She'd had to be; it
had been the only way to survive her life as a slave. It was the reason she was here now; she'd
found the right man to befriend, a man who'd been kind enough to set her free.
Or perhaps cruel
enough. Had he known she'd founder once
she was free? She was fine on the job,
in engineering, where things made sense and there were rules and order. But personal time was another issue—too unstructured,
too likely she'd screw up and make a bad choice.
"Maybe I
should go to the counselor instead."
Gaila could hear the panic in her voice and
tried to keep calm. She glanced at Christine's arm again. Christine had said if she'd talked to her,
that would be enough and she wouldn't have to go to the counselor. But she hadn't known Gaila
would hurt her—that Gaila could hurt her. Maybe she
was having second thoughts?
"No,
sweetie. Counselors are crap." Christine took a deep breath, then crawled
into bed. She spooned behind Gaila, the way Gaila's mother had
before Gaila had been forced to leave her, to live on
her own, to service customers. It had
been the only time they'd had to talk.
When her mother wasn't working.
When Gaila wasn't watching, learning, being
trained. It was their special time, when
the lights were low, and their voices even more so. The only touches then were soft and gentle,
full of love.
Gaila had screamed the
night the men who owned her mother had come in and torn them apart. Her mother had screamed, too; her cries had
rung out as Gaila was carried kicking and yelling
down the hallway, but then her mother had gone silent, the transition from
noise to silence so abrupt that Gaila had known a
blow had been the cause.
She'd been sold
that night, sent far away from the only person who'd been kind to her. She never saw her mother again. Would her mother be proud of her? For getting away? For making this new life, in a place where
what mattered was what someone did, not what they looked like?
"Easy,
Gai. Easy..."
"I was only
ten years old." She grabbed onto
Christine, held her arm, as if her friend could stop the pain. Christine gasped and then bit back the sound,
and Gaila realized she was holding onto the bruised
part of her arm. In the low light of her
quarters, she could tell that her fingers were sitting exactly where they had
before.
"I'm sorry,"
she said, forcing the memory back into the dull blackness she'd pushed all her
memories of that place. "I'm so
sorry."
Why did she always
hurt the people she loved? And she loved
so few. Even if she told every man she
was with that she loved them. It was
expected on Orion. The only currency she'd
had. Her love equaled her body, her body
equaled sex, and her sex had value. "I
love you," she'd said, as they'd taken what she'd offered—as they still
tended to.
Only Jim had
answered back with "That is so weird." He might have been good for her—if he hadn't
been using her to get access to the Kobayashi
Maru databases.
He'd used her; so had hundreds of men—and a few women—before him. So what?
It wasn't like she deserved better.
And at least he'd told her what he'd done.
She felt Christine
gasp again and realized she was clutching, too hard, too much. She didn't know moderation. Pike had told her that once when she nearly
collapsed after pushing herself too hard to get ready for an engineering mock
inspection.
"Pace
yourself, Cadet." He'd been
kind. He never looked at her like she
was something he'd like to gobble up. He
expected the best out of her, but he also expected her to work sanely.
He'd been her
first crush. A man she, finally, couldn't
have. Just thinking of him made her feel
calmer, and she stroked Christine's arm.
"Maybe I
should spoon you?" she asked, and Christine nodded, but her eyes were
funny, as if she wondered what kind of damage Gaila
might do to her hips or waist or throat.
"I won't hurt you."
"I know you
don't want to. Whether you do or not
remains to be seen." Christine
turned over though and let Gaila put her arms around
her.
"You sounded
like Spock."
"I didn't
mean to."
Gaila sighed. Her friend had a crush on the Vulcan. Didn't she know he was head over heels in
love with Nyota? How could she not know
that? Gaila had
known that Pike was in love with Christine's sister Number One; she'd seen them
together. One look confirmed it. She'd felt a momentary sadness and then
relief that she could adore him and it would never come to anything.
Something safe was
a novel thing.
But Christine knew
better. She'd loved, been loved—had been
engaged, even. How could she be so
stupid to fall for Ny's man? Chapel
needed to take a lesson from Gaila's book and start
thinking with her head and turn her heart off.
Men never wanted hearts, only bodies.
Christine should
know that.
"You like Spock." The words were out before she could bite them
back. "You like him and he doesn't
like you."
"He does like
me, he just doesn't love me." Christine was tensing in her arms, as if she
knew what was coming. "He's helping
me with my dissertation."
Helping her? Christine was an idiot if she thought that
was all she wanted from him.
"Besides he's
a Vulcan. Very safe to like." Christine laughed softly.
"He may be
Vulcan, but he can love. He's not
emotionless. He loves Ny."
"I think I
prefer the bruises—can we go back to those?" Christine joked whenever Gaila
struck out this way. Even though Gaila could hear the hurt in her voice, she'd keep joking
all night.
Gaila hated that she
struck out. The first time she did it, Christine
had told her it was because she felt threatened, because she felt...known. And she was right. All those men had held her body, but they'd
never seen the real Gaila. It had been hard letting Christine in. She hadn't let Ny in. Bu then Ny had never wanted in, not really. Gaila wasn't
completely sure why Christine wanted in.
Except that there was a darkness in her, a darkness Gaila
didn't understand but almost fed off of.
Christine
shifted. "Do you want to talk? Because if not I have an experiment to get
back to."
An experiment that
Spock was helping her with, no doubt.
Men were always more important than friends, and Spock had stolen both Gaila's friends away.
They weren't
really her friends. Why would they be?
Why would anyone be?
"Hon'?" Christine was practically whimpering, and Gaila let up on her, wanting to kiss the bruises that would
show up on her other arm, wanting to make it better the only way she knew how.
Christine had
never wanted that. Christine didn't want
her.
No, Christine valued her as a friend and wasn't going to use her just for
sex. Yes, that was it.
She had to keep
telling herself that. It was all
right. Even if they'd left Earth. Even if they were getting dangerously close
to Orion space. Even if...
"Why do you
put up with me?" she asked.
"Because you're
my friend, and I want to help you."
Christine rolled over so they were facing each other, eased her forehead
against Gaila's.
"I hurt for you."
"No, you hurt
because of me." Gaila
leaned down and kissed the bruises.
Christine allowed it—she'd been around long enough to know touch was the
language Gaila spoke best.
##
Chapel left Gaila sleeping, wincing as she reached for the door
controller. She hoped she had a loaded hypospray back in her quarters, but she was afraid she'd
forgotten to refill her stash. She
needed to remember to bring back the regen unit from sickbay—if she could find
a time when Eagle-Eye McCoy wasn't watching her.
She stepped out
into the corridor and saw the captain leaning against the bulkhead, one foot
resting on the wall, arms crossed over his chest.
"Well, this
is interesting." He gave her a
tight smile. "Don't pretend you're
not in pain."
She turned and headed
to her quarters, ignoring him as he kept pace with her.
"It's
funny. When I was with her, she never
hurt me. Guess you're just special."
"Don't."
"Don't
what? Point out the extremely poor
choices you two are making?"
"Whatever we're
doing, it's our business."
"Not when it
has my CMO complaining that his best nurse isn't on her game. And you know what a whiny bastard he can be
when he gets going." He grabbed
her, shook her a little. "Slow down,
goddamn it."
She winced, an
involuntary gasp coming out as his fingers found budding bruises.
"Chapel. Chapel, I'm sorry."
She heard
footsteps coming and pulled him into her quarters, then sat down on her bed and
bit back tears. This wasn't about
her. This was about her friend, who
needed her, who was willing to confide in her, who might explode—or implode,
more likely—if she didn't have someone she could talk to. So what if talking
ended up with Chapel hurting? It was a
small price to pay if she was helping Gaila.
"Is she worth
it?" He sat down next to her. "I mean she's Orion and all, but..." He smiled tightly, trying to make what wasn't
a joke funny.
She actually
appreciated that. "We're not
lovers."
"Then why...?" He lifted up her sleeve, examined the red
skin that would turn purple soon if she didn't haul ass to sickbay and treat it.
"She's really
screwed up."
"We have
psych screenings for that. Or we're
supposed to. How the hell did she get on
my ship?"
His ship?
He'd had it what? Four
months? She met his eyes. "How'd you pass, Captain? How'd you game the screening so they didn't
realize how completely screwed up you
are?" She leaned in. "Might want to keep your voice down the
next time you and Len play 'pass the bottle' in sickbay. I hear an awful lot from both of you. Enough to realize that neither of you is any more
'all right' than I am."
He looked
surprised at her admission, then leaned in.
"How'd you game it, Chapel?"
"How do you
think? They never get us. Not really.
We're functionally damaged, but we test well. They can't see that we're the walking wounded. Bodies of cast iron and hearts of shattered
glass. They don't look for that; they can't."
"Poetic." He ran his fingers lightly over Gaila's finger marks.
"But you're not cast iron."
"I'm helping
her." But was she? Was she really?
"Chris, this doesn't
look like help."
"It's
Christine."
"Nobody calls
you Chris?"
She shook her
head.
"Good, it's
my special name for you, then." He
smiled. "And that didn't distract
me. We have a counselor on board. Gaila should see
her, not you, about this."
"How have you
done with counselors over the years, sir?
I know how I have." She met
his eyes. "I'm helping her, sir."
"My name's
Jim."
She could tell he
was using his name to soften her up, but she thought it might soften him up,
too. To hear it. To be called a name other than sir or
captain. "Jim, I'm helping her."
She saw something
in his eyes, something that resonated with what she was saying. Then it died.
"You can't
help her, Chris. She'll suck the life
out of you if you try."
"She's not
your mother."
He tensed, and for
a moment, she thought he might hit her.
But then he relaxed, and she realized he wasn't like that, had forced
himself not to be like that.
She wished her
father had learned the same lesson when his daddy beat him, wished he hadn't carried
the tradition on to Chapel. She wished
she didn't know how it felt to tiptoe around, to watch expressions just to
gauge how "safe" you were.
No one should have
to wonder how safe she was in her own home.
"Gaila's life—it's been extreme, Jim. You can't imagine. She's so light and happy—but that's the face
she puts on. Her life was horrible. And we talk about it. I'm the only person she has who she will talk to. Don't take that away." She leaned in. "She's doing so well in engineering. Isn't she?"
She knew Gaila was. Scotty
raved about her. She was his favorite protégé.
"It's just
the down time that's a problem. And we're
working on that. Don't interfere, Jim." She moved closer, took his hands, pressed
them, felt him press back. "Please?"
"You can't
help her." But he got up and
sighed, and then said, "I'll tell Bones to stop riding you. But I'll still be watching."
"Thank you."
"Don't thank
me. I doubt I've done you any favors."
##
Kirk took a deep
breath before comming his grandmother. He loved her, probably more than anyone else
in his life, but he wished he hadn't needed her so many times as a boy.
"James,"
his grandmother smiled at him, her eyes a bit clouded, her hands shaking as she
adjusted her old-fashioned viewscreen. "How's
my boy?"
Her boy. He'd always been her boy no matter how much
he acted up, no matter how many stupid pranks he pulled. She'd taken him in more than once, had held
him and let him cry his heart out and didn't comment on the bruises she found
on him. She'd told him stories of his
father, what he'd been like when he was growing up, how much she loved him.
She'd been the
only safe thing in his life. Until Pike,
until this new life.
"I'm
good. Ship's good."
"And your
friends?"
He grinned. He'd never had friends as a boy, just
partners in crime. This trust he had
with Bones, with Spock, with Scotty and Sulu and Uhura, it was new. It was nice.
He didn't have the first idea how to manage it, but it seemed to be
taking care of itself on its own. He
just tried to stay out of the way. "They're
great, Gram."
"I'm
glad. And have you found a nice girl to
settle down with?"
For a moment, he
thought about Uhura. Then he forced his
mind off her and was surprised to find himself thinking of blonde hair, blue
eyes, bruised skin, and a terrible look of resolve.
His mother. Chapel looked like his mother. Except his mother had never been that
resolved. Resolve had taken one look at Winona Kirk and run screaming from the
room.
"James?" His grandmother was laughing softly, as if he
seemed embarrassed or something.
"Oh, no,
Gram. Just someone who reminds me of
home."
Her look
changed. "Home as in me? Or home as in your mother?"
"Kind of
both, I think."
She looked surprised.
"Do you think
if I'd known what I was doing, I could have helped Mom?"
"No,
darling. She didn't want to be
helped. She still doesn't."
No, she didn't
want to be. She didn't want to be in
Kirk's life anymore. Had skipped all the
ceremonies that meant he was succeeding, not screwing up. Hadn't commed when he'd shipped out after
being made captain.
She didn't care
about him.
Chapel wasn't
faced with that. Not according to
her. Gaila
wanted help. Gaila
wasn't his mom, and neither was Chapel.
"You're
thinking awfully hard, James."
"Sorry. Bad habit lately."
"So, get on
with it and tell me what's going on. Only the interesting parts, though. I'm old and may not have much time left."
He laughed because
she'd been saying that for years and told her about his week.
##
Gaila watched as Scotty
demonstrated what he said was an old technique, but she thought it was probably
something he'd just made up and didn't want to tell them was new and
untried. He was like that, had learned
his lesson, apparently, when they'd exiled him to Delta Vega. He was pretending now. Pretending to be not quite as brilliant as he
was, at least until his first year was up.
He never pretended
when he was alone with Gaila. He'd say, "Lass, this isn't the way they
taught you at the Academy, but what do those blowhards know?" And then he'd show her something that worked
twice as well and took half as long.
She worshipped
Mister Scott. She'd have slept with him
if he'd wanted it, but he never went there, and she wondered if it was because
he didn't find her attractive, or if he did but just wouldn't do it because he
was her boss. She supposed it could be
that he didn't think she was pretty; some people didn't like green. But she
didn't get that vibe from him. It was
more that once she put on an engineer's uniform, she became
part of his club. Part of the inner
sanctum, one of those who got it, really got it.
She didn't just
work in Engineering. She was
Engineering. That's how he described
it. That's how the best of them were:
part of the ship.
She'd never been part
of anything until Star Fleet accepted her.
And even at the Academy she'd been the outsider, the green girl. The sexy, slutty, but thankfully smart girl.
But here in
Engineering, she wasn't an outsider.
Finally, it was only the smart part that mattered. At least to Scotty. Ensign Yates kept giving her the eye. And Parsons snuck looks at her when he
thought she wasn't looking. But Scotty
never did. He just met her with his
direct look and weird humor and didn't look at her chest even by accident.
"Captain on
deck," someone called out, and she rolled her eyes. You did that for admirals, not captains on
their own ships, or you'd be doing nothing but that. Did people not pay attention during the
protocol course?
"Thanks for
that. Are you going to announce the
queen next?" Scotty asked, the mockery almost lost in his accent as he
walked over to Jim. "Captain."
"Mister
Scott." Jim looked around the
engine room. He nodded at her in what
was clearly a professional way, then moved on.
She loved that he
did that. Didn't ogle despite the fact
they'd slept together. Didn't leer. He treated her like just another member of his
crew.
He looked
good. In control. In command.
She'd been unsure of staying if he was going to be in charge. Thought it might be awkward, but he'd made it
easy.
"As you were,"
he said as he motioned for Scotty to walk with him, his head close to Scotty's,
as if they were working up a practical joke—or coming up with some new version
of transwarp beaming.
Scotty listened for
a moment, then he turned to her. "Ensign
Gaila. Come
give us the benefit of your wisdom, won't you?"
She hurried over
and smiled at Jim, then looked at Scotty, trying to be the professional, not an
excited girl who couldn't believe he'd singled her out in front of everyone.
"The captain
has a few ideas for making our ship have greater thrust in a crisis."
"I'd like to
avoid having to eject the core next time we hit a singularity," Jim said
with a smile.
"Aye, I'd
like to avoid that, too. My poor wee
engines deserve better."
Wee? She looked around the enormous engine room
and smiled. She loved how Scotty talked,
even if at first she'd been completely confused by his
accent and the way he said one thing and meant another.
"It's based
on what you were talking about, Scotty.
In the bar the other night on Delentia." He pulled out a padd. "I wrote it all down after you left with
that lovely brunette."
Scotty smiled and
sighed. "Aye, she was a wonder." He included Gaila
in the smile, as if she was just one of the boys.
Jim held the padd
out to her, let her study what he'd come up with. "What do you think, Gai?"
She met his
eyes. "This is interesting. It could work."
"Can you test
it without tearing apart my ship?"
She laughed. "Yes."
"Then do it."
She took the padd
from him and transferred the data to her own, then handed his back. "I'll get right on it." She heard
Scotty cough quietly. "After I
finish what I was doing."
"After hours
is fine, too," the captain said. "If
you want a project to keep you busy."
"After hours
would be great." Kill some of that
horrible free time she never knew what to do with. Maybe give Christine a break from playing
mother-shrink.
He held her
gaze. "You doing all right
here? Scotty treating you right?"
"Mister Scott
is amazing." She saw her boss blush
and laughed. "And yes, I'm very
happy here, sir."
"Good. Good."
He seemed to want to say more, and she waited, but he just shook his
head and smiled in what looked like an uncomfortable way. "Okay, then. Carry on."
"Aye, sir." She stuck her padd into her pocket and went
back to the engines. The padd pressed
against her leg as if urging her to pay attention to it, not her tasks. She had to work to ignore it; she couldn't
wait to get started.
##
Chapel saw the
captain come into the rec lounge and waited until he was alone before walking
over and asking, in a casual, low voice, as if she wasn't spitting mad, "What
the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Hmm?"
"Gaila and her extra credit project?"
"Oh, she's
not actually getting any extra credit.
Did she think she was?" He
gave her a tight little smile. "How's
the arm?"
"You had no
right to interfere."
"Actually, I
did. You both work for me. You both work on this ship—a ship I need to keep
running at optimum level. Gai's happy,
and more importantly busy during her down time.
You're getting some actual rest, and Bones has quit bitching to me about
you every five minutes. Win, win, win."
McCoy had quit
riding her, so she'd thought he'd quit bothering the captain with this. But apparently cutting him off at the pass
was harder than she'd expected.
"Can I buy
you a drink, Chris?"
"Fine, sir."
"I told you
my name was Jim. Use it. I'm sick of being sirred."
She followed him
to the bar.
"You know,
there are five kinds of women in the world."
"Really?"
He nodded. "Wine drinkers. Beer drinkers. Non drinkers. Fruity concoctions with umbrella
drinkers. And those who appreciate good
hooch."
She waited, giving
him nothing.
"I think you're
in the last group."
"Sorry, Jim,
but I like my drinks blue with multiple parasols." She motioned the bartender over. "I'll have a scotch, neat. My friend here will have the same. Only make his a double. Oh, and it's on his tab."
"Nice. And see.
I was right."
"You were
right. I'd give you a gold star, but I'm
fresh out so those"—she waved at the viewport, where the starstream in warp showed—"will have to do."
"They more
than do." For a moment he looked
still and happy, then he turned to her. "Gai's
fine for the moment, Chris. You weren't
fine."
"You're a
doctor suddenly?"
"No. But I know when someone's not getting
anywhere but is too damned stubborn to quit trying, or to take a moment to see
if maybe their path needs tweaking."
"Which do I
need to do?"
"I don't
know. I doubt you know yet. But maybe with some time, you'll figure it
out. In the meantime, Scotty tells me Gaila is constantly accosting him with ideas she's building
off my modest little suggestion. She's
happy."
"For now."
"Yes. For now.
Sometimes that's all you can ask."
He sipped at his drink, but she had the feeling he'd like to have thrown
it back and have another. "Do you
dance?"
"I do."
"Do you want
to dance with me?"
"I don't
know." She saw a grin start to
grow; the man loved a challenge, there was no doubt of that. "Jim, you irritate me."
"I get that a
lot." He smiled but there was
something underneath the smile, something that went very deep.
She finished her
drink in one swallow, as if Scotch was a shot of tequila. "I didn't really mean that."
"That's nice
of you. But I do get it a lot." He finished his drink and took her hand,
leading her out to the dance floor.
He was a good
dancer. She hadn't expected that. It was
a slow number and he did more than sway; he knew how to lead, how to hold her
just so.
"My
grandmother taught me to dance," he said, as if she'd asked the
question. "It's a happy memory."
She could tell
that happy memories were not the norm for him.
"She was a good teacher."
"She was—is a
good everything." He sighed, then
pulled her closer. "Gaila will be fine, Chris.
Just...just let things be for a while."
It was comfortable
with him. They fit together nicely. She settled her head in the crook of his
neck, smiled as he ran his hand over her upper back.
She decided she
could let things be. For a while.
##
Gaila saw Nyota sitting
alone in the mess hall and walked over. "Do
you want company or is he joining you?"
She never used
Spock's name, just in case there was a crewman on the ship who hadn't figured
out these two were together.
"Even if he
were joining me, Gai, you could still sit here."
Gaila nodded tightly as
she put her tray down and sat.
"I'm
serious. The captain joins us. Sulu joins us. Hell, even Chekov muscles his way in,
although it's usually just to talk obscure science with Spock." She grinned.
"He's really a strange kid."
Gaila laughed, feeling
finally like they were roommates again, sharing secrets and having inside
jokes. "He really is. But cute."
"Yeah, he's
growing on me." Nyota leaned
forward. "Is he growing on you?" Her eyebrows went up and down in a way that
made Gaila giggle.
"On me? I'd leave the poor child scarred for life."
"No, you
wouldn't. Why would you say that?" Nyota was frowning, probably because she'd
never woken up with finger marks.
Not that Pavel
would, either. Gaila
couldn't imagine sharing her darkness with him, she'd open her mouth and the
first word would get swallowed up in his sunny eagerness.
Nyota
frowned. "What?"
"Nothing."
"No, you
looked funny." Nyota was leaning
forward. "If you like him, I didn't
mean to tease...?"
"It's not
that. It's not anything. Really."
She gave Nyota the brilliant smile that fooled nearly everyone. "I'm distracted. New project.
Exciting."
"Yeah? Tell me everything."
For once, Gaila could.
##
Kirk saw Chapel
sitting by herself in the rec lounge, watching Spock and Uhura as they talked
with Bones. He recognized the look on
her face, figured it wasn't for Uhura.
Ordering a drink for her to go with the one for himself, he walked over
and sat down next to her.
"Did I say
you could do that?"
"I have
single malt for you."
"Okay, fine,
you can do that." She smiled and it
was actually a nice smile. "What's
the occasion?"
"To hopeless
crushes." He glanced toward Spock
and Uhura and then smiled gently. "I
have one. You have one. Here's to getting over them."
"I'll drink
to that." She clinked her glass
against his. "Yours is for Nyota,
right?"
He laughed. "Yes."
"Good. I'd hate to think I was competing with two of
you for Spock." She grinned.
"Nope, he's
all not yours." He shook his head
as he surveyed the room. "They do
know how to have a good time." Gaila especially.
She was in a crowd of men, all eagerly hoping by the looks on their
faces that she'd notice them. She was a
pro, though, at giving everyone a little bit of attention and no one too
much. He liked the moderation she'd
started to show. "She's not
sleeping with everyone who asks anymore, is she?" he asked softly.
"Nope." She sighed.
"But still a lot of them."
"Well, she's
Orion. Sex is sort of like breathing for
them."
"I know, but
her reputation is all she has."
"Well, Scotty
will make sure a good bit of her reputation is for how damned smart she is." He leaned back. "Why are you helping her? I'd have thought Uhura might but how did you
get involved?"
"Uhura didn't
even see what was going on with Gai. No
one did."
"I wouldn't
say no one did."
"Oh, you're
saying you did? Mister use her for the
codes to the Kobayashi Maru and then
dump her?"
"She told you
about that?"
Chapel nodded.
"Damn." He met her eyes. "Guilty as charged. But...I have an explanation."
"Of course you do."
"I didn't
have to let her know I did that. I could
have covered my tracks better and she wouldn't have been the wiser. But...I wanted her to be more careful who she
trusted. What she was willing to do for
lovers. I wanted to..."
"To teach her
a lesson?"
"That sounds so
harsh. But yes."
"Well, it
worked. She's definitely been more
circumspect on what she says about work.
And I'm working on her self-esteem."
"Is that
before or after she crushes your arms?"
He frowned. "She never
seemed that strong."
"She's
not. Usually. But she gets in the memory and I let her
go. I let her remember, and she goes
deep, and her reaction is to hold on.
And I bruise easily. I always
have. She just doesn't know how to hide
it the way my fath—"
He waited, but she
was staring resolutely down, her face going white instead of red. He could tell she hadn't meant to say that,
and she was mad at herself for letting it slip, not embarrassed.
"So he beat you? My
stepdad used to think it was fun to wallop the shit out of my mom and me, too." He waited, just let the statement hang there,
sipped his drink and watched his crew.
He waited so long
he thought she wasn't going to bite. But
then she said, "Then you understand?"
"I fully
understand." He turned so he was
sitting more sideways, facing her, his knee up.
"Tell me?"
"I don't talk
about it."
"I don't,
either. Maybe it's time we did."
She drained her
drink. "Get me another first?"
"You've got
it." He finished his, got up and
secured refills, and hurried back, almost afraid she'd be gone, but she was
still there. He handed her the drink
then sat down, closer, so they could talk as quietly as they'd need to.
"I always
thought my mother was the volatile one in my parents' relationship. But when she left, I realized she was the one
who grounded my father. He was lost
without her. Lost and angry." She took a sip of her drink. "Angry meant violent." She met his eyes.
"Yeah, when
my dad died, my mom remarried. My
stepfather was a piece of work.
Especially once he realized he could never live up to the legend that
was George Kirk. That's when he really
lost it."
"I think my
dad lost it when he realized mom was never coming back. And when my sister and I both started looking
just like her. Gwen got out before he
turned bad. She's older."
"She's with
Admiral Pike."
"Define with." Chapel didn't smile.
"I don't
think I need to, do I? At his side. In his bed.
Whatever. She's clearly important
to him and vice versa. She was at his
side every time I went to visit him when he was recuperating."
"Yeah, that's
Gwen. Pike is her life." Bitterness surrounded her words.
"She left you
there."
"Yep." Chapel looked down. "I mean, she was in Star Fleet. I don't know what I thought she'd do with me,
but she was living this free life that did not include being beaten."
"Did you tell
her?"
"She didn't
care."
"Did you tell
her?" He reached over. "Listen, I understand if you didn't. My grandmother—my father's mother—she wasn't
welcome at our house, but she'd find ways to see me. I didn't tell her, either. She noticed it one day when she hugged me too
hard. Then she found ways to get me
away."
"At least you
had that." Chapel looked down. "Although I got myself away. The hard way." She laughed softly. "Spent some time in a juvenile facility.
Impulse control problems. Anger management issues."
"Oh, man,
have I heard those phrases in my life."
She smiled, but
then her smile faded.
He leaned in,
asked softly, "Did your dad...?"
She seemed to know
what he was asking without him having to finish the thought. "No, he had his girlfriends for sex and
me for kicking the shit out of. Only he
had this one girl, Stephanie. She was
sweet. So nice to me. I actually think..." She swallowed hard. "I think I sort of loved her."
"It's okay to
love people."
"I'm not sure
it's smart, though." She took a
long sip of her drink. "Anyway, she
was cooking dinner and I was setting the table.
I must have been about twelve at the time. The age girls get really surly. My dad didn't like the way I was doing the
job. I can't even tell you if I was
doing it right or not. But he just
exploded. Knocked me across the
room. I hit my face on the edge of a
table. Next night was a dance at
school. I actually was going. Now I was going to look like crap. I came up spitting mad."
"Not good."
"Never good. Fighting back just
makes it worse. They're like bears. You should just huddle up, protect your
vitals, and play dead."
He reached out and
touched the back of her neck, was happy to see she didn't flinch so he started
to rub it. "Yep, that's probably
the best thing to do."
She smiled at
him. "How many times you do that?"
"Pretty much
never."
"Figures. Me, neither.
I always riled him up worse. But
this time, she got in the way. She tried
to talk him down. Leave her alone and
all that. She's just a kid." Chris seemed very far away. "He hit her so hard. And it was the look in her eye that did it
more than anything. That shock, you
know? That he could hit her, too." Her eyes turned hard. "I went to the stove and I picked up the
pan. Nice solid cast iron one. We were
studying anatomy in school. I was a
straight A student with barely passing grades, if you get my drift?"
"I completely
get your drift. I was the same way." He winked.
"I knew where
to hit him. I intended to end him. You know?"
He nodded.
"But she got
in the way. She protected him. And the oil went all over her arm. And the pan hit him wrong. Still got him good, but not in the
temple. He was in a coma for three
days. She had second degree burns on her
arm—never forgave me. I spent time in
juvenile rehabilitation while they tried to figure why I did it." She laughed, the sound so sad and bitter it
made his heart hurt. "So if you're planning to ask me at any point tonight why I'm
not letting the counselors near Gai, that's why. My dad, he never had anything done to
him. Stephanie's still with him. I'm not welcome there. Gwen is embarrassed by me. And I have a notation in my record from an Academy
psychologist that says: 'Cadet Chapel may not be fleet material and I recommend
her commission with reservations.'"
"How do you
know that? Psyche records are sealed." He was grinning.
She shrugged. "Maybe not if you work in medical. At any rate, I can see it but I can't do
anything about it. It's there." She looked down, and this time her face was
red.
"Actually, it's
not." He smiled as she looked up at
him. "I saw that in there when I
was trying to figure out what was going on with you and Gaila." At her look, he held up a hand. "Before you tear me a new one, listen to
what I have to say. I've also seen you
at work. I've talked to Bones about
you—not about Gaila or anything else personal, about
your work. I don't happen to agree with
whoever wrote that footnote. So, I
decided to use my powers for good this time.
It's gone."
"You erased
it?"
"I did. Pfffffft, it's
gone. Magic." He took a sip of his drink. "Why do you think the shrink said that?"
"I was angry
at Roger when I changed tracks from biochem to
nursing. I didn't tell the shrink I
thought I'd probably get my M.D. eventually—I have enough credits
practically. Or maybe I'll do something
else. I'm still searching, I think."
"So am I,"
he said with a grin.
She laughed. "He was concerned about my impulse
control."
"What have
you done that's impulsive? Other than
your little crush and trying to help a friend?"
"Well, there's
spilling my guts to you."
"That's not
impulsive. That's shared pain. What else?" He could see she liked the way he accepted
and moved on.
"I don't
know. That's the thing. It's like he could not get past my early
crimes. I was no saint in rehab—he could
see it from the notes in my file. Some
girls wither living like that, but I didn't.
I was angry. I was strong. I didn't
give a damn if I lived or died."
"Deadly
combo."
She nodded. "You can end up sort of running things
if you want it bad enough—if you're willing to fight for it. Alternative management as it were. That was in my file, too. They tell you it's expunged when you reach
maturity, but it's not. Because
Starfleet sure could get their hands on it."
"Did your
sister ever come see you?"
"In that
place? Are you kidding me? She'd have died of embarrassment. You know her nickname, right? Number One.
Hell, it's her name now. I think only a handful of people know her
real name anymore. I was the family
fuck-up. Worse than dad, even. He at least kept his crimes in house."
"And that's
why you're so hell bent on helping Gaila. Because no one ever helped you."
She was about to
protest, but stopped, seemed to be thinking about it and he liked her for
that—liked her better. He was already
liking her quite a bit as it was.
"Maybe you're
right. Do you think that's wrong?"
"Do you think
you're helping her?"
"I do." She smiled, and it was a softly beautiful
smile he didn't expect. "Your
project is helping her, too. It's more
than just a distraction. She's having
fun and she's good at it."
"I know she
is."
"You're a
good man."
"Don't spread
it around." He realized he was
still rubbing her neck—had he been doing that the whole time? He slowly pulled his hand away. "If you ever need to talk. About anything. Even non serious things. Or you just want to drink. Or dance.
Or even breathe in my vicinity. I'm
very open to that."
She smiled. "I've heard you're easy."
He squinted as if
she'd hurt him but then grinned to let her know she hadn't. "I'm easy to get into bed with—although
less so on this ship. I'm finding it
awkward to be quite so...available here.
But I've never been easy to get to know and if you polled the women who've
slept with me—and you have my permission to do that, by the way—you'd find they
know very, very little about me. And
that you already know much, much more."
"I think you'd
find the same about me. Only without the
easy to get into bed part."
He leaned in, let
his lips linger at her ear. "That
just makes it better." Then he got
up. "Thank you for a very
enlightening evening."
"Thank you
for listening."
"Anytime."
##
Gaila woke up, curled
around Christine. She checked for
bruises before Christine woke up, found very few and let out the breath she'd
been holding. Last night had
felt...different. For one, she'd spent
some of the time talking about the project she was working on for Jim and
Mister Scott. And then she'd been
surprised when Christine had let some things slip, that her father had been
mean. That she understood what it felt
like to be locked up, to be not free.
Gaila had felt
something tear loose inside her, but in a good way. Like the feeling of
apartness, of being the only one, was gone.
Maybe others weren't as perfect as they seemed? Maybe they hid their damage differently than
she did.
Christine sighed
softly and Gaila kissed her on the lips. She'd welcome this woman as her lover but
didn't need her to be. But she liked the
easy contact, appreciated that Christine was willing to give her that—the same
way her mother had. "Good morning,
sleepyhead."
"Christ, what
time is it? I'm always awake before you."
"That's
because you're usually in pain. Look,
hardly any bruises."
Christine
inspected her arms and gave Gaila a brilliant
smile. "These won't even show if I
wear my three quarter sleeves. I'm starving. Are you starving?"
Gaila nodded
eagerly. Happy that Christine was in
such a great mood. Normally, she was in
a hurry to get away, to get cleaned up.
To hide the evidence of their night.
She hit her shower
while Christine went to her quarters.
They met a few minutes later in the corridor and chatted easily as they
walked to the mess. There was no line
and Gaila saw Christine wave at someone, realized it
was Jim and that Christine wanted them to go sit with him.
She grabbed her
friend's elbow. "I've slept with
him," she said as softly as she could.
"Actually,
you had sex with him, you've slept with me," Christine murmured back.
"Well, true." Gaila pouted, a
look that usually got her what she wanted.
Nothing. "But you like him,
and he likes you."
"Oh, shut up
and be brave. We're friends, the three
of us. No matter who likes whom any
other way." Christine had her "Queen
of the Brothel" look on, and Gaila wondered if
she knew how intimidating she was when she was like that. Or how much someone like Gaila
wanted to follow her when she wore it.
How safe Gaila felt with her—like nothing
could hurt her.
She led Gaila over to Jim's table.
"Expecting an exotic alien princess or may we join you?"
"Well, I was
expecting one, but she's damned late, so she's on her own. Please?"
Christine sat next
to him. Gaila
chose the seat across, then immediately wondered if the one next to him would
have been better. No, she was here with
Christine. Not with Jim—err, the
captain.
"How's the
project coming, Gai?" His grin was
easy, still the cadet in some ways but also a bit older around the eyes. Like becoming captain had aged him even if he
seemed to love it.
"Thank you so
much for letting me do this, sir."
"Gai, I think
you can call me Jim, when we're alone.
God knows we've got the history."
And in that
moment, she loved him for how easily he set to rest their past, his betrayal
and the present. "Jim." She
smiled. "Well, it's going great, so
thank you."
Christine was
beaming at her.
"And you,
Chris. How's my favorite nurse today?"
"I'm the only
nurse you know."
"That's not
true," Gaila said. "He slept with Betty Suzanne and
Mariella."
Two sets of blue
eyes turned to glare at her.
She gave them her
most charming smile. "Not the right
thing to say?"
"Let's clear
that up a little, shall we? When did I
do that?" He was looking at her
very intently and she tried to read what he wanted from her. Then she looked at Christine, who was also
very intent.
"Ohhhh, before.
Before you got the ship. At the
Academy. When you were still a big man
slut." She smiled at
Christine. "He's not now."
Christine started
to laugh. It took a moment but finally
Jim started to laugh, too.
"Well, I'm
glad we cleared that up." Jim
started to tuck into his eggs.
Gaila pulled Christine
over to her, whispered in her ear, "For what it's worth, he never came up
with a special name for anyone that I know of.
And you don't ever let anyone call you Chris. You told me not to."
Christine just
smiled.
"What? What's she saying to you?"
"Something
good. Just shut up and eat." The look Christine gave Jim was a sweet
one.
Gaila smiled.
She smiled even more when Nyota and Spock came in and neither Jim nor
Christine seemed to even notice.
##
Chapel woke up to Gaila thrashing in her arms, crying out so softly she
couldn't make out the words.
"Wake up,
Gai. You're safe." She felt Gaila's
finger's pressing down hard on her hands, then an unexpected release as her
friend turned and burrowed against her, sobbing. In all the time she'd been helping Gaila, she'd never known her to cry. "Baby, baby, it's all right."
"You're so
strong," Gaila said between almost hiccupping
sobs. "You remind me of her so
much. I know I should go to the
counselor, but you remind me of her so much."
"Who."
"My
mother. She kept me safe. You keep me safe. I don't think you even know you do it, but
you do." She went back to crying,
clutching Chapel, but not hard, not hurting her at all. "I love you. And I don't mean that the way I say it to the
men. And I don't mean I'm in love with
you. I just mean I love you. I'm glad you're in my life. I've never really had a friend before."
"Nyota's your friend, Gaila. And Chekov and Uhura."
"No, they're
my peers. And Nyota was my...pal, I
guess? But they don't know me. Only you.
And maybe Jim, a little. He's
dark, too, isn't he?"
Chapel hesitated,
but then she nodded. "Yes, he's
dark, too." She imagined Leonard
had his darker side, too, if she'd bother to let him in, which so far she hadn't. But
she'd had a taste of being involved with her boss and wasn't eager to do it
again.
Of
course
one could argue that her friendship—or whatever was happening with Jim—was just
trading one type of boss for an even bigger one. But Jim was different. Jim was...familiar territory. Another wounded soul.
Dark.
"What were
you dreaming about?" she asked gently.
Gaila took a deep,
shuddering breath. "My first time."
"It was bad?"
Gaila laughed, a laugh
so profoundly bitter, it sent chills down Chapel's spine. "No, it's worse. It's..."
She pulled away, played with Chapel's hair, something that always seemed
to calm her. "We're supposed to be
luscious, sensuous. They don't want us
damaged. They don't want us scared. They bring the best of the best of the men, and
they feed us drugs to make us pliable and aroused. And they give us pleasure. And make us ready for our lives as the whores
of the galaxy." Her fingers caught
in Chapel's hair.
Chapel didn't cry
out, and a moment later, Gaila let go without being
prompted. "When I first got here,
at the Academy, I was still acting like I was a whore."
"You were
free with your body. There's a
difference."
"No,
Christine. Now, I'm free with my
body. Then...I was still that Gaila. The slave." She cuddled around Chapel. "Don't let them tell you that freedom is
a mantle you assume. It's not. It's a weight, too. Just as heavy as the slave chains. Just as difficult to learn to navigate under
if slavery is all you've known."
Chapel hugged her
close, kissed her neck. "When I was
first at the Academy, an upperclassman took a dislike to me. Made my life a living hell. I've told you a little bit about my
father. How much I hate him and what he
did to me. But Gaila,
I wanted to attack this upperclassman.
If I'd been at the rehab center, I would have gone after her—and I would
have won. I went to see one of the
counselors about it. Told him she was
bullying me, what a hard time I was having not retaliating. He told me I needed to grow a thicker
skin. Told me he was worried that I
considered violence as an option. But I
hadn't reached for it, didn't want to be like my dad, and the counselor didn't
seem to get it."
This was the same psychologist
who had put his reservations about her in her record. Reservations Jim had now expunged.
"So I understand what you're saying, Gai. We may long for what we don't have. But the way we grew up: it's inside us. It's what we are and we have to work to not
let it define us."
Gaila kissed her again. "You do understand." She began to hum a song, and Chapel imagined
it was a lullaby Gaila's mother must have sung to
her. "Go to sleep, Christine. Dream of Jim.
I think he might love you."
"He loves
everyone."
"No, he doesn't. And you know it."
##
Kirk sat next to
Spock, wondering if the discussions with the Horvathian
delegation were ever going to end. Their
main interlocutor had the charisma of a Rhodilian sea
snail. Even Spock looked bored and Kirk
had to work to hide a grin.
Finally the talk wrapped
up, with neither side having come any closer to a decision on Federation use
rights of the Horvathian satellites, but plenty of
time had been used up to come to that state.
The Horvathians seemed satisfied.
"More
progress should be made tomorrow," Spock said softly as the other
delegation filed out.
"Is that a
prediction or a plea to some deity?"
Spock seemed too
tired to try to hide the slight tick of his lips. "The former."
"Great." He leaned back, studied the conference room
they'd been stuck in all day. "Supposed
to be some good restaurants on this Star Base."
"So I have been told."
"Double
date? You and the fair Nyota? Me and Chris?"
"You are
seeing Nurse Chapel?"
"You have a
problem with that, my friend?"
"On the
contrary. Her command of the sciences is
impressive. She is wasted in sickbay."
"Don't let
Bones hear you say that." Kirk
laughed. "Oh, wait, you said that
to him last week."
"I did. Just after he called me a racially
inappropriate name. Must he do that?"
"I could call
him on the carpet if you want?"
"It is your
duty as captain and leader to provide a workplace free of intolerance."
"Does this
mean we're not double dating?" He
held a hand up. "I'll talk to
Bones. Ixnay on the green skin and
pointy eared comments. Racially
insensitive. You're completely correct,
Spock. I've been derelict in my
duties. Now, call Nyota and get her down
here and I'll call Chris."
He walked far
enough to give Spock privacy and pulled out his communicator. "Kirk to
Chapel."
"Chapel here."
"Got dinner
plans?"
"Nothing I
can't jettison."
"Join me and
Spock and probably Nyota down here on the Star Base?"
"That sounds
scarily official."
"I know,
doesn't it? I was thinking of food. And
then eating it. And then who I would want
to eat it with. And then you came to mind.
You and no one else."
"Except Spock
and Nyota."
"Well, Spock
was here and he's gonna have to bring his own woman."
She laughed. "I'll be right down."
"We're in
conference room thirty-nine. See you
soon."
He turned and saw
that Spock was still talking to Uhura.
Marveled that it took a Vulcan longer to convey dinner plans to an
established girlfriend than it had for two humans who were still getting to
know each other. Then again, he and
Chris had covered a lot of ground that night in the rec lounge. Navigated a lot of minefields that would have
blown up most people.
She really was
right down. She smiled as she came
through the door and bumped up against him easily, then frowned as she looked
at Spock. "Is he talking to Nyota?"
Kirk nodded.
"Did he start
the call way after you?"
He shook his head.
"Wow, high
maintenance or what?"
He started to
laugh—it was exactly what he'd been thinking.
A moment later, Spock cut the connection. He took a deep breath, then said, "She
will be down momentarily."
"Define that,"
Chris murmured.
Momentarily was
about ten minutes. Uhura seemed to have
taken the time to change out of her uniform—Chris had not—and her hair was loose. Kirk shot Chris a look to see what she thought
of all that; her expression was impossible to read.
Turning to him, Chris
put her arm through his, gave him a brilliant smile, and said, "So where
are we eating, Jim? I'm starved."
And just like
that, all the attention was back on him, and by extension her. Nicely played. He could see this was going to be one hell of
an interesting evening.
##
Gaila was eating lunch
with Christine when Nyota came over and stood at their table, her tray held
almost defensively. "Hi," Gaila said. "Sit."
Nyota turned to
Christine, who shot her a puzzled looked then nodded. "Take a load off."
Something changed
in Nyota's expression, but she sat and moved her tray
in a little. "I just...I wanted to
apologize about yesterday. I should have
just come down. Not changed clothes."
"No, you were
smart. You looked so much more
comfortable. I should have thought of
that." She leaned forward. "I mean when Jim said come now, I
just...well, hurried on down."
"Well, it's
still new for you."
"It's not
that new."
Gaila watched in
fascination. They were like two jungle
cats circling, taking test swipes. She
wasn't entirely sure what they were talking about—neither of them talked to her
about the other; she gave them credit for that.
Christine went
back to eating. Gaila
wondered what Nyota would do. In the
brothel, only the strong ate when threatened.
Christine looked
over her sandwich at Nyota. "Something
wrong?"
"I'm not sure
I like you."
"Well, I'm
not sure I like you, either." She
glanced at Gai. "But we're both
friends of Gaila.
And our boys are tight. So maybe
we should try to get along."
"You're not
what you seem," Nyota said, leaning in, still not eating. "Everyone thinks you're this sweet
nurse. I hear them saying it. Christine in sickbay is so nice. Is that you they're talking about?"
Christine
shrugged. "We all wear masks. Some of us do it better than others."
"She's smart,
Ny. And she's tough." Gaila touched Nyota's arm. A
conciliatory stroke, the way a lesser girl would have done in the brothel,
meant to bring peace, calm another down.
"But she can be your friend.
She's my friend. And you're my
friend. You can be each other's friends,
too."
"I'm not sure
that's going to happen." Christine
smiled gently at Gaila. "Just because we love you doesn't mean
we'll love each other."
Nyota's look seemed to soften. "You speak so easily of loving her. That makes me like you. Gaila deserves
loyal friends."
Gaila smiled and dug
into her salad.
"Yes. She does deserve loyal friends. On that, we're agreed."
Nyota finally
started to eat. She kept her eyes on
Christine as she did it, but she ate.
##
Kirk waylaid Chris
in the corridors, happy at her smile—so unforced and immediate. "Do you know what's happening tonight?"
She shook her
head.
He smiled. "Absolutely nothing. No delegations. No visiting brass. No parties.
Nothing. Come to my quarters?"
"Now?"
He nodded. "I may have food in there for us. And a nice bed. Clean sheets."
"Taking an
awful lot for granted, aren't you?"
"We've waited
a long time. I'm tired of waiting. Aren't you?"
"Is this a
personal best for how long you've waited?"
"Oh, hell,
yes."
She smiled. "Then let's go to your quarters."
He smiled and
looped his arm around her shoulders. "Have
I told you how much I like you?"
"Like?"
"Well, I'm
crazy about you, too. This may, in fact,
be love. But it's more than that. I like you.
I want to tell you about my day when my day is over. I think about you and it makes me happy. You're not just some girl I want to be with
and then leave." He squeezed her
arm. "I don't think I've ever
really liked a girl before."
She leaned her
head against his shoulder. "Then
like is good."
"Oh, like is
great." He palmed his door
open. "But before we eat, you need
to meet someone."
"In here?"
He walked them
over to the comm unit, kissed her quickly, and then got his grandmother on the
comm.
"James." Her smile was wide. "And who's this?"
"This is
Chris. I thought you'd like to meet her." He smiled at Chris. "Chris, this is my grandmother."
"You can call
me Millie, dear. Or Gram, like he does."
Chris was smiling
broadly and her eyes suspiciously bright.
"I'd be pleased to call you Gram."
"Well, that's just fine, then. And
is my boy sweet on you?"
"I guess he
is."
"Well, that's
even better. Don't let him take you for
granted. Kirk men will do that."
"No, ma'am."
"Gram, don't go filling her head with nonsense. Anyway, I'll call you tomorrow for our
regular talk. I just wanted you to meet Chris.
You know, see what you thought of her." He winced as Chris elbowed him.
"I think she
must be a saint to put up with you, dear."
She winked at Chris. "Now,
go have fun, you two. I've got to go and
play tile rummy with the girls next door.
I love you, James."
"Love you,
Gram." He cut the connection then
turned to Chris. "That's my
home. That's who raised me. That's who matters in my life. And I've never ever brought a girl to meet
her. In person or by comm."
Chris pulled him
in for a kiss. "I love you, Jim
Kirk."
"I love you,
too." He kissed her again, then
pulled away. "Did you want to eat?"
She started to
pull off his uniform. "Food can
wait."
He'd picked out
food that could definitely wait. "Officer
thinking, Ms. Chapel."
##
Gaila sat at a picnic
table working on the project Jim and Mister Scott had given her. She looked out where the others were playing
on the beach. Nyota was in the water
with Christine and Jim and Sulu, playing a game of keep away. Nyota and Christine had forged some strange
kind of détente. Gaila
wasn't sure they'd ever be friends, but they were trying and she knew it was
for her sake and for the sake of their men.
Spock was up on the ship, preferring to let others soak up shore leave
sun, but Gaila knew he'd join Nyota later that night.
She saw Chekov
lounging on an air mattress, his pale skin glowing a bright red. She'd told him to put on some sunscreen, but
he'd just laughed and headed out for the open water.
She heard
footsteps behind her, turned, and saw Mister Scott. He sat next to her, asked softly, "May
I?" and when she nodded, studied the padd she was working on.
A few minutes
later, he looked up and a big beaming smile broke out. "Mother of God, girl. This is first rate."
She grinned.
"I can't wait
to try this out. Do you think we can
convince the captain?"
"I'll ask
Christine to ask him for us."
"Oh, aye,
that'll do it." He smiled happily. "Can I ask you something, Gaila?"
She nodded.
"Why aren't
you out there having fun?"
"Why aren't
you?"
He thought about
that. "I don't really know how to
have fun. I know how to drink. And I know how to be an engineer. Well, and I know how to love a woman, but I
don't do that very often."
"Why not?"
"Because a
woman expects a man to show her some fun now and then. More now than then, to be honest. And things peter out when you can't."
She laughed. "I don't know how to have fun, either."
"I have
trouble believing that."
"It's
true. I was raised to give
pleasure. Not fun."
He narrowed his
eyes, and she could tell he was thinking about the difference.
And she realized he was the first person she'd ever said that to—other than
Christine or another Orion—and this time she'd said it with no bitterness. Like it was in the past. Really in the past.
"I can see
how that's a problem. Are you good at
geometry?"
"Relatively."
"Do you play
pool?"
"I
tried. All the men looked down my shirt
and up my skirt."
He looked at her
like she was very silly. "Well,
that was because you used to wear such low cut shirts
and short skirts. But you don't anymore."
"You noticed?"
"I notice all
kinds of things about all kinds of people.
I just keep most of it to myself."
He grinned. "Now, you want
to learn the finer points of nine ball?"
"Will it be
fun?"
"I think it
might." He made a face like "imagine
that?"
She giggled. Then she did it again. It was a sound she hadn't made since she was
a child. A real sound of amusement. Not the sound of a courtesan.
The sound of the
child she never got to be.
"Let's go
have fun," she said and followed Mister Scott off to what turned out to be
a dark hole in the wall filled with curmudgeons who didn't seem to care one
whit that a gorgeous young Orion girl was in their midst, but were full of tips
on how to hit the balls around the table.
It was the most
refreshing feeling in the world.
And nine ball was
fun. She beat him about half the time. She wasn't sure if he looked happier when he
won or when she did.
##
Chapel saw Uhura
sitting alone in the surf. Spock was
somewhere on the ship, would be down probably later but wasn't here now. With a kiss for a drowsing Jim, she got up
and walked over to the water, plopping down next to Uhura. "You look like you could use some
company."
"If you're
feeling sorry for me, then—"
She held up a
hand. "Look. I'm a bitch because I had a shitty childhood
and an even shittier adolescence. I
learned that to survive, you had to be tough.
And I learned it around girls.
And I brought it with me to the Academy.
And girls like you, girls who are smart and pretty and have it all, you
bring out the worst."
Uhura turned and
stared at her.
"What?"
"You think I
have it all?" She laughed
softly. "Why do you think I wanted
to look good that night? It wasn't for
Spock and Jim. It was because you were
going to be there. Smart. Blonde.
Mysterious past. Scary as hell
unless we're talking to one of the many people who swear you're the angel of
sickbay."
Chapel
laughed. "My fans. Caught me on a good day, I guess."
"And Gaila loves you. In
a way she never loved me. I guess...I
guess I'm jealous."
"She loves me
because I'm like her. Damaged." Chapel drew a series of crossed swords in the
sand. "I used to have that carved
into my arm. Six swords. Six girls I took down to get to the top."
"Took
down. You mean...?"
"Not
killed. Just...deposed. Made inconsequential."
"Where?"
Chapel met her
eyes. "In a rehab facility. Like I said.
Shitty, shitty past."
Uhura touched her
arm. Touched it right where the swords
used to sit, even though there was no scar left. "Who carved it in you?"
"I did." She closed her eyes. "Gaila doesn't
love me more than you. She just knows I
understand her better. I understand her
world better because I've lived in something like it. A place where status meant everything."
"I'm sorry."
"It's
ironic. I've been helping her learn to
let go. And yet, I can't. You're the kind of girl I'd have had to
depose. But that would have happened there,
and I don't live there anymore. I haven't
lived there for a very long time. But
the more I help Gaila the more it comes out. That old Christine. The one I didn't want to be." She turned.
"So I'm sorry. No more alpha crap from me."
"I can be a
bitch, too. I have this need to
excel. I can't stop pushing. And when I run into someone like you, someone
who'll actually give me a run for my money.
I'm not sure I know what to do."
Chapel
laughed. "The joke's going to be on
both of us. Gaila's
going to leave us in the dust."
"You're
probably right."
"I do love
her. I can't imagine her life. And that she came out of it so well. She's so...innocent for all that they tried
to destroy that innocence."
"I know,"
Uhura said. "It's why I love her,
too."
Chapel started to
get up.
Uhura pulled her
back down. "Stay. I do need company."
"Even if it's
me?"
"Especially
if it's you." Uhura leaned in for a moment. "I love Spock. But he's not fun sometimes."
"Jim's fun." She looked over at the beach towel under the
umbrella where he was safely sleeping in the shade. "When he's awake."
Uhura started to
smile. "Do you like to shop?"
"I love to
shop."
"Gaila hates to shop."
"I know. It is her one big flaw."
They shared a
smile. Then rose as one, and pulled
their cover-ups and some sandals on.
Grabbing their bags, they headed into town, where all the lovely shops waited
just for them.
FIN