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) 2022 by Djinn. This
story is Rated PG-13.
Reciprocity
by Djinn
Chapel slides onto the barstool
next to La'an and pushes a glass of very nice scotch to her.
La'an doesn't even look over.
"What's this?"
"An apology." She
takes a sip of her own equally nice, if less smoky, whiskey. "Bartender told
me this was your poison."
"Can you ever say something
without trying to be funny?"
She considers that. "Probably
not. Can you ever say anything without being hostile?"
La'an actually laughs. "Probably
not." She takes a tiny sip of the drink as if it really might be poison. "Oh,
this is much better than my usual."
"Yeah, well, apologies
should be nice." She sips and lets them sit in silence.
La'an finally asks, "So
what are you apologizing for? Calling me 'Sister,' perhaps?"
"Nope. I'll probably call
you that again—or worse." She leans in so no one can hear her but La'an. "I
should never have said I was going to mess with your genome. It was...insensitive
of me."
La'an doesn't answer. Just
rotates her glass and makes the amber liquid spin.
"I'm into genetics. Of course I know your family tree."
"Good for you. I'm a
long way away from anyone of note, though, on that tree. Just a far-off leaf."
She turns, her expression so placid it has to be controlled.
How much does that control
cost her?
"Sure. Okay."
La'an's look becomes less placid. Chapel finds herself staring
back as intently. Does this woman think she can unnerve her with some sort of stare
down? Try working at her program at Stanford, at her age, then getting this
slot on this ship.
But damn, does La'an never
have to blink?
Eventually she mutters, "Fine,
shit, you win," and looks away, blinking furiously. "Jesus, woman."
"You lasted longer than
most." There's something almost light in La'an's
voice.
"Yeah, well, I'm tougher
than I look."
"That remains to be
seen."
##
Chapel is working with her
back to the door but hears it open. The footsteps are light. But there's a
stomp she recognizes that imposes itself every so often.
Number One.
She turns. "Commander?"
"Nurse. Or is it Doctor?" She runs her finger down the cabinets as if
doing some kind of old-time inspection.
"I guess it's both. But
I'm slotted as a nurse so..." It doesn't matter to her what they call her.
She'd have let them slot her as anything if it let her play on the Enterprise.
"Doctor M'Benga only has good things to say about you."
She's unsure what the proper military
response to that is so she just smiles in what she hopes is a sufficiently—but not
too—grateful way. This woman grates on her so damn much, but she's not sure
why.
"La'an is my protégé."
She doesn't answer.
"I saw you with her in
the bar. She doesn't need...complications right now."
Seriously? "How
complicated is an apology?"
Number One is clearly surprised
by her answer.
"I said something I regretted.
I bought her a drink. We drank. She left." She doesn't cross her arms over
her chest the way she really, really wants to. This woman will only see it as
weakness. "I will, if I feel so inclined, buy her an apology drink—or any
other kind—in the future. Unless there's some regulation
I'm unaware of that precludes that?"
"Holy crap. Look at the
balls on you." Number One is actually smiling in a way that doesn't creep
her out. "Okay then." She pulls up her sleeve and there's a nasty
rash. "While I'm here, can you give me something for this?"
"I can." She
studies the patterns of redness, the bumps. "You've been scratching. Do
you know how much bacteria are under someone's fingernails?"
"Assuming they have nails."
"Or fingers for that
matter."
Number One actually laughs. "Can't
you scan that instead of studying it?"
"I will. But I like to...hone
my ability to diagnose. On an away mission, if instruments were down, it might
be the difference between life and death." Then again
she probably won't be on any away missions, so... She reaches for the scanner and sees she was
off in her assessment. But not far off. Same family of fungus.
"You've had this for a
while."
"Yeah
it started small. I thought I could contain it."
"That's sort of a metaphor
for life. Better to come here in the future. Let us eliminate an uncomfortable
variable or two." She gives her the most genuine smile she can as she
applies a treatment and gives Number One a small amount to continue treatment
on her own until it's gone. She likes people to trust her—to like her. Especially
people who she could admire.
"I'll remember
that."
##
A drink appears in front of
her and La'an pushes in between her and the person next to her. There's not much
room so she's standing very close.
"Uhhhh?"
"There's a lieutenant
who's convinced he's in love with me."
"Just one?" She
grins as she studies the drink. It's nothing she'd ever drink. Pink with fruit
she doesn't like in it. "So you're giving me the
drink he bought you?"
"I don't care if you
drink it. Just...look interested."
"In the drink?"
"In me." She makes
an impatient face followed by an even more impatient huff. "I told him I
was involved with someone. It's the only thing that will get him to leave me
alone."
"La'an, this is you. Just
threaten to kill him and I'm sure he'll look for easier conquests."
"You think I didn't try
that first?" She glances back and then forward so quickly Chapel knows he
must be coming over.
"You owe me, sister."
"Fine. I owe you."
With a grin, she pulls La'an to her and kisses her gently, then not so. La'an is
frozen.
And then she's not.
Her lips feel so nice.
Chapel pulls away with
regret. Then turns to the lieutenant who is standing just behind them.
"Hi, I'm Christine. And you are?"
"Uh, leaving. Have a
good night, you two."
La'an is still leaning against
her.
"It's okay. He's gone. Or
have I left you completely dazed with the skill of these babies?" She
touches her lips then whispers into La'an's ear. "Yours
are really lovely too, if that's the case."
"And if it's not the
case?" La'an seems both pissed off—in other words totally normal—and uncertain.
"Well, then you're a
horrible kisser." She laughs and sees La'an relax. "Let's get a
table."
"I don't want to be in
here."
"Then let's walk. Show
me the ship. I feel like I live in three rooms: sickbay, my quarters, and this
lounge."
"Yeah. I could do that.
That would be acceptable."
"Wow, acceptable. Way to
make me feel special."
La'an laughs.
"I like your laugh. You
don't laugh much though, do you?"
"No."
"Maybe I can change
that."
La'an shrugs. "I'm not
averse to you trying."
##
They're in La'an's quarters and Chapel can tell she's nervous. Like this
is too intimate a space, like she's lost control in her own domain, so she
eases La'an into a chair and circles around behind her.
"I used to do this for
my roommate in undergrad," she says as she begins undoing the braids. "I'm
glad we're done with that comet."
"Were you worried about
me?" La'an's voice is so quiet
Chapel realizes she's putting it out there in a way she can ignore if she
wants.
She doesn't want to. "Yes.
And no. Of any of them, you're the survivor."
"I am that. I didn't
contribute a damn thing, though. Except monitoring Kirk."
"That's something."
"I was useless other
than that."
She tries to be extra gentle
with the braids. "Your particular set of skills was not required. There's
a difference."
"Maybe." She seems
to relax into her hands then says softly, "You're a survivor too, aren't
you?"
"Not the same way as
you, but yeah, I probably am."
"I bristle and you
flirt."
"Excuse me?" She
gently pulls on the braid.
"With Spock. 'Now you're
just toying with me blah blah blah.'"
"I didn't realize you
minded." She finishes one braid and moves to the other.
"I don't." But
she's pushing back against Chapel's hands, sighing in a way Chapel thinks she's
not even aware of. "Do you like him?"
"He's intriguing. Both
as a man and as a genetic specimen."
La'an tenses under her hands.
"Oh, for God's sake, relax.
I've spent years earning my way in this field. Genes are what I care about. When
I say genetic, I'm not referring to you. Unless I am, and when I am, you'll know
it."
"So
genes make you hot?" The sarcasm is dripping off her.
"Same way weapons make
you hot, toots." She laughs when La'an does and strokes her cheek. "I
was flirting with you the first time we met. Or didn't you notice? Was my wink
too subtle?"
"I'm not good at reading
those types of things."
"I disagree. You noticed
me doing it with Spock. You threw a phaser at him to get me to stop."
"That was unprofessional."
La'an actually sounds guilty.
"He didn't notice. He seemed
impressed with your aim."
"Maybe I was aiming for
you."
"I seriously doubt that.
You two don't get along, do you?"
"For a Vulcan, he's...unimpressive."
"Ouch. How many
Vulcan-Human hybrids have you met? Who knows what he's put up with or how hard
he's had to work to get here. Same as me. Same as
you." She pulls the braid again.
"I can't wait until you
run out of braid."
"Me either. Your hair's
beautiful."
"That's not where I was
going with that comment."
Chapel just laughs and
continues. She finishes the last few bits of the second braid and then begins
to finger comb out the waves. "Do you care?"
"That my hair is
beautiful?"
"If I flirt with Spock?"
The tension is back, thicker
than ever. "I'm not in a position...caring is..." She sighs and it's
a ragged sound.
Chapel moves to crouch in
front of her and puts her hands on her cheeks. "Hey, it's okay. My relationship
status is beyond complicated. It's just nice to know if you do. But selfish
too. Forget I asked." She starts to stand up.
La'an pulls her back down.
"I do. And that's all I'm going to say or do about it right now, all
right?"
"All right." Chapel
stands but stays in front, arranging her hair, enjoying the feel of it over her
hands.
"You know who was bothered
by your flirting? The little cadet."
"For real?"
"Yeah, she made a point
of telling him you were flirting with him."
"He knew that."
"Did he?"
"Trust me. He knew that.
There's been a spicy human or two in his past. Even if he is probably engaged. Most
Vulcans are."
"But he's only half
Vulcan. And they're...selective. Maybe no one will have him."
"I doubt that." She
starts to laugh, imagining the conversation between Uhura and Spock. "So our little songbird likes him? That's all right. I'm only
flirting."
"With any of us."
She stops playing with her
hair and tips her chin up so she has to look at her. "With him." She
allows herself to really look, really enjoy the beauty that is La'an. "Not
with everyone."
La'an visibly swallows. "How
complicated is your relationship status? Exclusive complicated?"
She can feel her smile tightening
into something bitter and wanting. "No. Sadly. And not so sadly if, say,
someone like you wants to be a friend. Or be more than one." She lets go
of her. "Either is fine. Friend. More. I mean that for real. No pressure. I
just...enjoy you."
"Something might, in
fact, be wrong with you if you do." But she looks touched. "Do you
want me to braid yours?"
"It's kind of short for
that."
"I know. But let me play"
Their eyes meet and Chapel feels
a rush of protectiveness for this woman. She understands why Number One came
into sickbay.
And she feels a rush of something
else too. Something that maybe she will never get to explore. But it's there
and she likes it.
She trades places with La'an and
says, "Play away."
FIN