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) 2023 by Djinn. This story
is Rated PG-13.
Three's Company
by Djinn
Spock
was unsure how he came to be on the ground of what seemed a very desolate
planet. He realized T'Pring and Christine were also near him, slowly coming
awake.
"Ah,
the kids are finally rousing. Been waiting a while."
He
knew that voice. Angel.
He
turned to look at them, rose even as Angel pointed their weapon and said,
"Slowly, Spock. Consider the odds."
Angel
was not alone. Some of their crew stood around with weapons also trained. Other
had carryalls and walked off toward what looked to be the kind of emergency
cabin often found on small class-M planetoids situated on lightly travelled
freight corridors.
"What
are you doing?"
"Laying
in some supplies. For you. And your two favorite girls. Get up,
ladies."
T'Pring
and Christine both rose slowly.
"So
convenient your ship was on Denaria for shore leave. And that T'Pring was able
to join you. I mean it would have happened eventually, you three together
again, but that it happened so soon after our last encounter is just, well,
thrilling." They gave a sarcastic smile as they kept their weapon trained
on the three of them.
Ah,
yes, Denaria. He and T'Pring had been settling in for the night when he'd
received a text comm from Christine. She had been in trouble. He had rushed out
without thinking. And been stunned as soon as he was halfway down the path to
the main building. T'Pring must have been taken once he left her.
Spock
tried to send a signal to her and Christine to separate, to make it easier for
him to throw himself at Angel, but Angel just laughed and backed up.
"Don't try it, Spock. Anyone moves, I kill whoever's closest, and then the
next one, and then the next one. And that's not my plan—to kill you all. Especially
not you, sweet little brother of my love."
They
glanced at T'Pring. "You moved my love after our last encounter—I'm not
going to forget that."
"I
did. And I do not know which facility he is in. I asked for that freedom,
knowing you would be back and might try to get it out of me. You are a slave to
your emotions. You cannot let go of him."
"Coming
from you that's rich. And why should I let him go? He's the love of my life and
unjustly held. Simply because he would not conform?"
"You
are neglecting to mention the five people he killed as he attempted to take
away their pain. The seven others who have little to no cognitive function
left. The twenty-three he selectively mind-wiped when he failed to convert them
to your cause."
Spock
stared at her aghast. "I ascertained Xaverius was Sybok. But I had no idea
he was held for more than simply rejecting the way of logic."
T'Pring
looked apologetic. "You worshipped him, Spock. I did not wish to burden
you with what he had become."
Angel's
crew returned, empty handed and laughing.
"Is
it ready?"
"They'll
be snug as a bug in a rug," an old woman said, then she pulled out a slim
metal tube. "Or two of them will be anyway."
Almost
too fast for him to track, she blew a dart into Christine's neck and then
another into T'Pring's. They did not fall, in fact, they both yanked the darts
out.
"Too
late, dearies. Too late." The old woman moved behind Angel.
"You'll
notice you don't get one, Spock," Angel said softly. They pulled a vial
out of their pocket and tossed it to him. "You do get this. Enough
antitoxin for one of them, not both. The other will die a slow, painful death.
Which will you pick? The Vulcan beauty you pursued for so long or the fair
human who's won your heart—underused as you might like to think it is."
Christine
was the first to make a sound, to put her hand to her abdomen, to meet his
eyes, a quiet panic in hers.
"Best
get them to the nice little cabin I cleaned up for you. Everything you need is
there. Except, of course, more of the antitoxin. But you and whoever you pick
to live will be fine until someone happens by this outpost. Or maybe your
clever captain on that big fancy ship will find you. I don't rule it out. Maybe
he'll be the one to pick you up, but he'll never get here before one of these
women dies in, oh, ten hours or so." They hit a button on their belt and
said, "Beam us the fuck out of here."
And
then they were gone with their crew.
Christine
turned and headed to the house. "There may be something there that can
help us. Something Angel wouldn't have thought of."
He
started to follow, wanting to help her, but T'Pring stopped him with a touch on
his arm—he could feel her frustration through the touch. "She clearly has
no idea she was used to lure you away from me. You left me vulnerable."
"I
know. I...I acted impulsively. My human side."
"How
long will you blame every ill conceived act on that, Spock?" She walked
away but then turned back. "Do you think she will find anything in the
cabin? She seemed quite optimistic."
"She
is an innovator. It is in her nature to believe she can conquer the
problem."
"How
much time will you give her to see if she is right?"
He
met her eyes and knew his own were torn. "I...I do not know."
As
they walked to the cabin, T'Pring seemed lost in thought—but in a
problem-solving way, not in a dwelling on his shortcomings way—then asked
gently, "Have you ever been in a healing coma? At the deepest level?"
"No.
Low level, yes."
"I
might survive using that method. You can give her the antitoxin."
"Angel
would know you would try that. It will be a death sentence."
"Then
give it to me for I am your mate." She watched him carefully as he tried
to find a graceful way to deny her. "Forget I said that, Spock. I have
known for some time it is not that clear cut. It is obvious you have feelings
for both of us." She stopped him with a hand on his. "Have you ever
performed a T'Nakra meld?"
"I
have heard about them. My father has done them, I believe. But I have no
experience being part of one, let alone initiating one."
"I
use them frequently in my work. They can link two individuals at a depth that
facilitates the sharing of trauma. But...they can go deeper. They can make of
two, one."
"Permanently?"
"For
the duration of the link."
"What
are you thinking?"
"Give
her three quarters of the antitoxin and me a quarter. Then let me link us. You
will have to wake us if it works. It will require you to slap me."
He
nodded because like all his peers, as a child, he was shown how to wake an
adult who had gone into such a coma. "Have you ever done this meld to such
a depth?"
"I
have not. It is discouraged. It is difficult to...escape. And the level of
sharing of the two melded is... Suffice it to say she and I will be drawn to
each other in ways we will not fully understand until it is over. Or..."
She
looked away.
"Or?"
"Or
we will detest each other to the point where the death of the other is the only
option. So you must observe us." She met his eyes. "If, that is, we
survive. This may not work."
"We
do not know this is even antitoxin. Angel has been deprived of her love. And it
is partially my fault. It seems a greater vengeance to kill both of you than
just one."
"I
disagree. To make you live with the one you chose, knowing the other is dead
because she was not the one you selected—that will eat at you. But, Spock, it
might be the most logical way. Pick one of us and let the other die. The meld
is—"
"A
long shot," he said, mimicking Pike, wishing his captain were here to
throw out the kind of ideas he often did, that appeared outlandish at first but
inevitably worked.
Christine
came back out. She looked pale—was the toxin working on her already? "I've
got nothing. Have you two solved the logical conundrum part of this choice from
fucking hell?"
T'Pring
turned to her, appearing unperturbed at Christine's colorful language. "I
have given him several options." She laid them out for Christine, who
nodded as she listened.
"The
meld sounds risky. You'll lose us both if it goes wrong, Spock."
"Or
I might save you both. I will not—I cannot choose between you." He looked
down. "That makes me weak. I should know which of you to choose."
"You
wouldn't be the man I count a friend if you could choose."
T'Pring
began to walk. "We must get to the cabin. Christine is hiding her pain
from us."
He
looked up quickly and saw Christine glare at T'Pring. "She is trained to
see pain, Christine. Of many kinds." He hurried to her and took her arm.
She
shook him off. "I can walk."
T'Pring
shared a look with him, then strode ahead and left them alone.
"Is
this the part where you tell me you're choosing her? Because I get it if it
is." She looked up at him, her expression resigned. "She's your mate,
Spock. She's what you want."
"You
do not, I think, have any idea what I want, Christine." He stopped her for
a moment. "But right now, I just want to save you both. I think the meld
is something Angel would have no way of knowing about."
"But
what if that's just saline in that vial? What if Angel is just torturing
you?"
"It
is possible. But there is no way to know. We must try to save you both."
She
looked off into the distance. "Splitting the vial—if it is antitoxin—may
be a bad idea. If the amount is carefully calibrated."
"A
Vulcan would need less, do you not think?"
She
frowned. "Maybe? I mean you're stronger, sure. But what if it's a toxin
that hits Vulcans harder? What if I should get the quarter dose? There isn't
any kind of scanner or tricorder in the cabin. I can't check to see."
"We
must go." He got her moving again.
"It
really hurts. Is she in pain? That could tell us if she's right. That she can
do with less. But if she's just hiding how much pain she's in, then we won't
know." She met his eyes. "Do a meld. With each of us. Feel for
yourself how badly we hurt at this stage. Then adjust the amount based on
that."
"The
toxin may hit later for her."
"Or
for me. We can't factor time in or we'll fail to act at all. This is what we
have to go on. Do it." She opened the door to the cabin.
T'Pring
turned around.
"He's
going to meld with us. Determine who's being affected the most and adjust the
dosage based on that."
T'Pring
lifted an eyebrow. "So you wish to try the deeper meld once the dosage has
been ascertained?"
"I
don't want to die. I don't want you to die. I especially don't want Spock to
have to live with one of us dying. So yeah, I do. But I don't want him giving
us dosages based on your assumptions that Vulcans are stronger in all cases.
Angel may have chosen this toxin specifically because it does hit Vulcans
harder. And they'd know we'd try to share it."
"Logical.
Sharing it without the meld no doubt would fail. But with it..." She
nodded, as if considering. "Spock, you may meld with us."
He
wasted no time, into her mind first, urging her to drop her guards and let him
assess her true level of pain.
It
was immense. He could not believe she was hiding such agony so easily.
Then
he went to Christine. Comparatively, she was much better off. He eased out of
her mind and said, "You are right."
"Yeah,
I often am. The ratio: her pain to mine?" She was already taking the vial
from him. "I used this kind of hypo in school. It's easy to calibrate the
dosage." She smiled up at him.
"I
would say five eights for her, three for you."
"You're
the math genius." She began to make the adjustments. Then she glanced at
T'Pring. "You are his mate. If you tell me to go, I'll walk out of this
cabin and you can have the whole hypo's worth."
T'Pring
walked over to her. "Why?"
"Because
I never intended to be anything more than his friend. I had—I had someone I
loved. He cheated on me—sort of. It's complicated, but it's...it's why I'm
here. Not here on this planet, but here in space, on the ship, instead of back
at the university I fought like hell to get into. I will not ruin your
relationship."
"I
believe your death would ruin our relationship, Christine. Just as mine
might destroy any chance you two had for a successful relationship."
"At
least this way we tried?"
"Yes.
Whichever of us—if either—survive, he will know we chose this. He did not
choose for us." She took a steadying breath Spock recognized from the
meditations they often did together. "What, in your medical opinion,
should come first? The meld or the medicine?"
She
did not blurt out an answer. In fact, all trace of her usual buoyant confidence
was gone. "I think the meld. If it can make us more like one person. But
I've never..." She swallowed visibly. "Okay, no offense, but the last
time you two melded, you ended up in the wrong bodies. Are you sure about this?"
"We
were not ready to trust each other at that point. Now, we have no choice."
He looked at T'Pring. "Is that not so?"
"I
believe it is."
"Okay,
then let's get it on." Christine rolled her eyes at the surprise Spock
assumed both he and T'Pring were showing. "The meld, I mean. So
literal..."
They
lay on the bed facing each other and Spock stood ready with the antitoxin,
under instructions from Christine to do T'Pring first and from T'Pring to do
Christine first.
He
respected both of them so much for their bravery and altruism.
He
decided since T'Pring was the one initiating the meld, and the one most
affected by the poison, that he would inoculate her first. But he kept this
information to himself as T'Pring touched Christine's face and began the meld.
##
Chapel
had never experienced anything so...intimate as T'Pring's mind hovering at the
edge of her own. But before she could enjoy it, she realized how much pain
T'Pring was in.
Far
more than she was. Far more than five eights of a dose would take care of.
She
slapped T'Pring's hands off her face before she became too entrenched in the
meld and skittered away.
"Do
not do that again," T'Pring said as she cradled her head in her hands.
Chapel
could feel the sting of the broken meld in her mind too, but she got up and
walked to Spock. "We're thinking about this the wrong way."
"You
could have severely injured both of you by breaking a meld like that."
"Fuck
the meld for now, Spock. Think—what is Angel getting out of all this?"
T'Pring
sat up on the bed. "Revenge. Please, come back before I lack the strength
to initiate the meld."
"Hear
me out. Angel has studied us. Each of us. They know who we are, and I would bet
they know our past. It's what I would do if I wanted revenge. You have to tailor
it. You have to make it so personal it hurts even worse than it would
otherwise."
"This
is already highly personal," Spock said in an impatient tone.
"No,
you're not getting it. In the labs I worked at, we were inoculated against so
much shit. Chem toxins, bio toxins, viruses, bacteria, phage. When I reported
for duty on the ship, it was the same." She turned to T'Pring. "Do
they routinely inoculate you for weird shit."
"Weird
shit lacks specificity." She almost frowned. "But no. Just the normal
diseases and pathogens we would be exposed to from our patients."
"Exactly.
Spock, which would hurt you more: having to choose one of us and the other
dying, or thinking you had to choose one of us and having T'Pring die
when she doesn't have to because Angel knows you'll try to save us both? When I
don't need saving."
He
took her hand. "I can feel your pain."
"Some
of the vaccines don't protect against infection, just severe disease and death.
Go hold her hand. I'm uncomfortable, but she's in agony."
He
did as she said and surprise showed on his face. "She is much worse than
before." He handed her the hypo, eyes wide. "You plan to give her all
of it?"
T'Pring
tried to get up but he eased her back. "No, you cannot. What if Angel is
counting on you to do that?" She struggled under his hands. It was no
doubt a testament to how hard the toxin was hitting her that she could not
escape because normally Chapel thought she was probably the stronger being full
Vulcan.
"They
won't be counting on this. Because I want Spock and they know that. And if
they've researched me, they know I fought dirty to keep the guy who cheated on
me. I ruined a career or two until I realized he wasn't going to stop, that I
had to be the one to leave." She glanced at Spock. "It's why I gave
up on relationships. But given that history, Angel will think I want T'Pring to
die."
"And
if you are wrong? If you need some of the antitoxin to survive?" T'Pring
asked.
"Then
I'm out of your hair forever. And boy won't I feel stupid as I go?" She
adjusted the hypo and then walked over to her. "Do I have your permission
to give you all of this? I truly believe my logic is sound."
"Yes.
I hope you are not wrong."
"Me,
too." She touched T'Pring's face gently. "I want you to feel that I'm
sure."
"Just
because you are certain, does not mean you are right." But she leaned into
Chapel's hand for a moment.
"I've
never told you how gorgeous I think you are. Spock is a lucky boy." Then
she let the whole of the hypo go into T'Pring's arm.
"Ohhhhh,"
T'Pring said, relief clear as the seconds passed. Her eyes fluttered and she
went limp.
Chapel
hurried to make sure she was sleeping and not dead, felt a weaker pulse than
she liked—assuming she should feel like Spock—but otherwise seemed fine. Her color
was better, her respiration unlabored. "I think it truly was the
antitoxin, Spock."
"She
is not in a coma. Merely resting." He turned her to face him. "And if
you need it? What do we do?"
"I
won't." She turned to check on T'Pring again. "I hope."
"Angel
might have predicted this."
"How?
The first time they saw me was when I couldn't get into the console in
Engineering. I held up a hypo like it was a phaser—but they didn't know I'd
knocked out two of their guys with it. It may have just seemed an asinine thing
to do. And I bet those guys didn't tell their scary-ass captain that a helpless
little nurse knocked them out."
"Possibly."
"If
Angel found their way to Earth, if they talked to Roger, he would have told
them I was..." She stopped talking and closed her eyes.
"Are
you in pain?"
"Yeah,
but not the physical kind. He told me I was a quitter, that I was running away
just because I couldn't share him. That I would never be a leader if I was this
sensitive, never amount to anything more than support. Brilliant support but
not an originator. This after I came up with her disguise protocols.
This after I saved his ass so many times. But he'd never tell Angel that any of
it was my accomplishment if, say, they posed as a reporter or a fellow prof at
a conference. Why in hell would Angel ever assume I'd figure this out if two
Vulcans weren't able to?"
He
moved closer to her. "You do not talk about him."
"That's
because he was my life and my soulmate—or so I thought. He was the first man I
ever loved, the first man that sex ever meant anything with other than a good
time. And he broke my fucking heart." She could feel tears starting and
brushed them away. No. She was done crying over this asshole.
"So
you are the X Factor here."
"Seems
like."
He
covered T'Pring with a blanket and then took Chapel's hand and led her to a
sofa in front of a fire that Angel's crew must have started.
Their
crew, who were in here, who no doubt built this place. She leaned in as if she
was going to give Spock a kiss on the cheek but at the last minute moved to his
ear. "Are we being watched or listened to?"
"Quite
possibly," he murmured back touching her cheek.
"Then
I've given it all away." She closed her eyes. So stupid.
He
took her face in his hands the way she had done to him after the memorial.
"I was not thinking about surveillance. Neither was T'Pring. As Angel no
doubt intended, we were focused on the task at hand."
She
nodded reluctantly, still feeling stupid that she hadn't stopped to think
before she spoke. But he was right: none of them had even considered it.
"Moreover,
if there were any way for them to watch us, then there might be a way for us to
call out. I do not believe Angel would risk that." He touched her forehead
gently. "You feel warmer than normal. And you are in pain. More than
before."
"I
am. But nothing like she was."
He
reached for a throw that was over the back of the sofa and said, "Lie
down, I will watch over you."
"You
don't have to."
"Nevertheless."
She
got comfortable, her head in his lap, and then he covered her with the
surprisingly soft throw. "I'm okay if I'm wrong, Spock. It was a good
risk. T'Pring would have risked a lot to try to save us both."
"Yes.
She would have. Counter to the needs of the many outweighing the needs of the
few."
"Maybe
she knew you'd be super pissed at her if she could have saved me but let me
die."
"I
would not have thought of the meld she wanted to try—I do not even know how to
do it. It was her idea to use it."
"She
really is nice."
"I
have always thought so. I pursued her so ardently—"
"For
a Vulcan."
"Yes,
of course. But with great intensity. She was all I wanted."
She
shifted to get more comfortable. "And now?"
He
settled his hand on her hair, playing with it gently, relaxing her. "And
now...things are far more complicated." He glanced over at T'Pring.
"But for her as well, I think. There is another man, a boy we both grew up
with. He has always wanted her."
"But
she's with you."
"But
she works with him. They are...close."
"Ahhhh."
She cuddled into him more. "Her work husband. Am I your work wife?"
She closed her eyes—she really did feel like someone had run her over with a
shuttlecraft. "If I die, Spock..."
"You
will not die."
"But
if I do. I really, really am glad I met you."
"I
am very glad I met you as well, Christine. But you will not die."
"I
hope not. Life is fun with you in it. I want to go on living it."
He
went back to playing with her hair; it was warm and comforting under the throw,
with the heat of the fire. She let go and fell asleep.
##
T'Pring
woke with a start. She was under the covers now instead of just the throw. They
were unusually soft, such a strange indulgence from Angel. She would have
expected something far harsher to the skin.
"It's
okay," Christine said as she wiped her forehead with a cold cloth.
"Your fever is down."
She
grabbed Christine's hand and could not stop the frown. "You are still
sick."
"I
am. But I'm not more sick than I was. It's just going to take time for this
thing to run its course."
She
let her go and moved so there was room on the bed. "Share. Unless you
prefer cuddling with my fiancé?"
"He
is nice to cuddle with." Christine shook her head. "I mean when I'm
sick. I've never cuddled with him before. But that couch is too short to
stretch out on. You're sure I can share?"
"I
suggested it. I meant it." She looked around the cabin. "Where is my
fiancé?"
"Checking
to see if there's any surveillance equipment. If Angel can watch us then maybe—"
"We
can use the tech to communicate out."
"Right."
T'Pring
realized Christine was shivering so she pulled the covers back. "Get in.
The covers are astoundingly nice."
Christine
slipped in and made a face that T'Pring thought mirrored her own reaction
perfectly. "Why give us bedding this nice? Angel's so fucking weird."
"Does
that make you feel better? To use expletives?"
"It's
fun. It's habit. It's me being a rebel. Does it bother you?"
"No."
She touched her cheek to assess how she was feeling. "You are quite
chilled. When Spock returns he can join us. The two of us should be able to
warm you."
"Uhhhhh."
"I
am not suggesting we have sexual relations. I am suggesting you make use of two
beings with far higher core-body temperatures."
Christine
laughed. "Okay. Sorry. It's just...this is just..."
"Strange."
"Yeah.
Strange. How are you feeling? Your fever's broken and your color's back to
goddess olive."
"Is
it? My face itches slightly. I would have assumed it had broken out."
"Nope.
Pretty much perfect." She closed her eyes. "I have rosacea that goes
nuts when I'm sick. Is it bad?"
"You
look as if you have been out in the cold. Just your cheeks. It
is...attractive." T'Pring studied her, this woman she considered a rival
even if she was sure Spock would not betray her. "Your hair
color...?"
"Is
not my real color. I'm a brunette. But I like changing it up. I've been all
sorts of colors but I figured when I reported to the ship, I needed to make it
sort of normal."
"It
suits you."
"Thanks."
T'Pring
heard the door open and turned to look at Spock. "Did you find any
surveillance equipment?"
"I
did not." His expression lightened when he walked to her, his hand on her
forehead letting her feel how relieved he was that she was awake. "You are
better."
"I
am. But Christine is very cold. If you are done, please get on the other side
of her so we can warm her."
He
hesitated and Christine laughed softly. "She's not saying we're going to
have sex, Spock. We've already cleared that up. You two are just going to be my
beautiful Vulcan heating pads."
"Yes.
That."
"Do
you need anything? Water?"
She
nodded and he went to the chiller, brought several bottles back, then crawled
into bed.
"You
are cold," he said and he met T'Pring's eyes as he slid in behind
Christine and put his arm around her.
"You
have cause to know her normal body heat?" But she moved in closer and put
her arm over his.
"Since
it's the same as any human, he could infer. I'm usually a little lower, so it's
more of a fever than he might think. Holy cow you two feel good." Christine
shifted a little then said, "This feels so damn nice."
T'Pring
stared at Spock as the woman between them slowly fell asleep. "She was at
my side when I woke."
"She
was at your side often during the time you were asleep."
"She
is...interesting."
"For
a human, you mean?"
"For
anyone." She shifted and felt Christine push back into her, her body
already warming. "Will you leave me for her?"
"You
are my—"
"Answer
the question."
He
looked helpless. She refused to look away. Finally, he said, "I do not
know."
"That
is not a good answer."
"I
agree. I am... I am weak. I should know."
Christine
suddenly turned over, still asleep, and cuddled into T'Pring, her arm snaking
around her waist.
"She
fits perfectly against me, Spock." She touched the hair that so fascinated
her—it was nothing like hers, so fine that it was like silk. "Does she fit
perfectly against you?"
"I
do not..." But she did not have to tell him to not lie to her. She had
watched them kiss and he was bright enough to know that. "Yes. But other
than the kiss for Angel's benefit, there was only one time, after a hard
mission and several deaths, when she hugged me." He looked away.
"When I hugged her back."
"You
did not have sex?"
"I
have never been unfaithful to you."
"Some
might say falling in love with another is the definition of infidelity,
Spock."
"Then
what of Stonn? How many times has he answered your comm unit when I call?"
"We
share an office."
"He
wants me to know that. And that he feels free to answer for you."
"Spock,
that was during a finite period when ostensibly routine computer upgrades broke
our voicemail capability. I was answering his, as well, when he was not in the
office. The problem was quickly resolved and he has not done it since—has
he?"
"No.
But you and he...I once thought..."
"Yes,
I once thought I'd pick him also. But I did not. I picked you." She ran
her hand over his forearm. "Should I have picked him instead?"
"No."
Again he sounded helpless. And he pushed closer to Christine as he answered.
"She
will certainly be warm enough now. I do not think we could all be any closer. Short
of sexual activity, of course."
He
closed his eyes. "It is what she needs. Medically."
"I
am not begrudging her anything. Except you." She studied him. "Have
you slept at all?"
He
shook his head.
"Close
your eyes. I will watch over the three of us for now."
"I
should be the one to—"
"Please
do not finish that sentence. The antitoxin worked. I am weak but otherwise
fine. Rest. You are no good to us exhausted."
He
nodded but seemed unsure if he should ease away from Christine.
T'Pring
gave him an exasperated look no one at Ankeshtan K'til would probably believe
her capable of making. "Hold her tightly, if you wish. She is certainly
holding me that way." She knew her look was slightly mocking but did not
attempt to mitigate it.
"Why
did she turn to you?" He sounded almost...hurt.
"Perhaps
because that is the side she prefers to sleep on." She found it comforting
that he did not appear to know what side was her norm.
"Yes.
Most logical." He closed his eyes and murmured, "Wake me if you need
me."
Then
he was gone.
T'Pring
studied the two of them, this human she had once told him there was no way he
would have feelings for and her betrothed. A man she did not wish to lose.
But
one she might.
Unless...
She
touched Christine's face, wanting to meld with her but resisting the urge. It
would be trespass of the highest order—all to satisfy one question: how much
did this woman care for Spock?
She
shifted to get comfortable, then began a very basic meditation, one designed to
center but allow the practitioner to remain alert if needed.
##
Spock
jerked awake when a crash sounded and the door flew open. He was resigned to
seeing Angel and their crew, back to try some new scheme to punish him since
this one had not worked.
But
it was not Angel. It was some kind of special operations team. Only...not
Starfleet.
He
squinted at the insignia—were they...Vulcan? Since when did Vulcan have a
special operations capability.
"Stay,"
one of them said to him as T'Pring started to sit up and he held her down.
Christine
was not moving, other than deep breaths. T'Pring seemed to notice this at the
same time he did, and checked on her then met his eyes. "I am unsure of
her medical condition. Her temperature feels warm to me. Her breathing,
however, is what it was last night." At his look she said softly, "I
used it as a metronome for meditation."
"Ah.
You cannot wake her?"
"I
cannot." She looked around at the figures in tactical gear with weapons
drawn. "Those are Vulcan?"
"So
it would seem."
The
first Vulcan came out of the bathroom and said loudly, "All clear."
Two
people walked in. One Spock did not know. The other—the one clearly in command—he
did.
Stonn.
He
looked at T'Pring, who seemed as confused as he felt.
Stonn
walked over and indicated for the other Vulcan who had come in with him to
check on Christine. He was wearing a small pin with the insignia of the medical
profession but otherwise appeared no different than the other members of
Stonn's team.
He
scanned all three of them. "Spock was given none of the toxin." He
spent a moment more doing more detailed scans of T'Pring then asked her,
"You were given antitoxin?"
Stonn
immediately looked suspicious.
"She
was not given it," Spock said. "We had to choose which of them
was to get it—or how much to give to each. Christine—Nurse Chapel thought
T'Pring was more affected and opted to give her all of it."
"A
wise choice." The doctor nodded. "T'Pring, you would have died from
the toxin given to you."
"But
Christine—Nurse Chapel? She will not wake up."
"She
is affected but unlike with a Vulcan, delayed administration of the antitoxin
will not be detrimental. When we get back to Vulcan, we will give it to her.
For now, we will monitor her."
"Back
to Vulcan? My ship—"
"Your
ship has been told to resume its mission, Spock." Stonn's voice was
different than he remembered. Less...whining. More commanding. "The toxin
is of Romulan origin and they will have nothing to counter it. We do, so you
will all be taken to Vulcan."
"Why?"
T'Pring stared up at him in a way Spock did not like.
"Why
are you going to Vulcan? Or why am I here?" His voice was suddenly tender.
"Both."
They
did not look away from each other and Spock felt anger grow within him. Is this
how T'Pring felt whenever he was with Christine?
"As
soon as you chose Spock, it was clear you would be of interest to Angel. In
addition to her obsession with freeing Xaverius"—Spock gave him credit; he
didn't even stumble over the alias for his brother—"she is aligned with
the Romulans. Has access not only to things like this toxin but also to tech.
Tech we wish to acquire and study."
"On
behalf of the Federation?" Spock waited for Stonn to turn to him, but he
did not. He kept his eyes on T'Pring.
"We
are founding members of the Federation, Spock. And surely we would not be doing
this out of our own self-interest."
"That
is a non-answer." T'Pring pushed back the covers and moved to get out of bed,
but Stonn shook his head and murmured, "You will stay here until we beam
you up."
"You
realize the cabin may be bugged?" Spock asked, falling into human terms
solely to annoy Stonn. He felt a need to separate himself from Vulcan.
"We,
of course, checked that. There are no surveillance devices." Then he
touched T'Pring's arm. "Other than this, of course."
"You
put a tracker in me?"
"Had
I not, I would not be here now to rescue you. And save your...what is Nurse
Chapel's status now, T'Pring? Friend? I have heard you speak of her often
enough as a rival."
She
looked down.
Stonn
glanced at Spock. "You have so many women, Spock. What is it about you
that is so...tantalizing?"
"I
am honest."
"I
have never lied to T'Pring. She never asked me if I was anything but a
counselor."
"That
is true." T'Pring seemed relieved at the notion.
"You
lied by omission."
"And
you did, too, Spock." She glanced at him. "About her." She
almost frowned. "We should attend to her. Stonn, can we not work out
whatever grievance we have on your ship while your doctor takes care of
her?"
Stonn
actually looked surprised. "Or we could talk here until it is too late to
save her."
"Why
would we do that?" T'Pring sounded honestly uncertain.
"You
wish to save her? The plot thickens." Stonn glanced at Spock.
"You are not the only one who can fall back on human sayings, old
friend." Then he pulled out a communicator and said, "We are ready
for transport. Three in addition to our original party."
"Affirmative.
Transporting now."
The
cabin shimmered and then disappeared as the transporter took them.
Spock
expected to continue the conversation with Stonn and T'Pring, but he was taken
to medical with Christine and told to stay there as Stonn took T'Pring
elsewhere. Several of Stonn's team remained behind, presumably to ensure Spock
did as he was told.
He
could do nothing about whatever was going to transpire between his fiancée and
Stonn, but Christine was his other priority so he turned his attention to her
and the doctor. "I do not even know your name, Doctor."
"Stonn
prefers it that way." But his eyes were gentle as he looked at Spock.
"I have studied your career with interest, Spock."
"Why?"
"Because
you chose your own path. As I did, working here instead of taking a more
traditional medical path." He injected Christine with something and said
softly, "This should lower her fever. She may even awake." He pulled
a stool over for Spock to sit on. "If she does wake, I imagine she will
find comfort seeing you first and not my fine, if rather off-putting,
teammates."
"I
agree."
"I
am curious. It is a typical Vulcan trait to assume superiority and yet T'Pring
took the antitoxin. How did you convince her?"
"Christine—"
He should refer to her by her title but he could not bring himself to. She was
Christine to him and so he would call her, even if it lacked the formality he
used to cling to. "Initially we proposed dividing the formula and trying a
meld to unify a healing coma."
"They
would have both died."
"Yes,
Christine determined that when T'Pring started the meld. Or rather she
determined that T'Pring's pain was far greater than her own. She had no opinion
on the meld."
"How
did she convey this to you if in a meld."
"She
ended the meld."
The
doctor's eyebrow went very high. "A human ended a meld with the most
talented counselor at Ankeshtan K'til?"
He
had not considered it that way. "It was painful for both."
"Your
Nurse Chapel is a very strong personality."
"That
is undebatable." He had to bite back a small smile.
The
doctor did not seem to notice, was scanning Christine. "Her psi reading is
human normal."
"Her
force of will is not."
"Ah."
He put the scanner in the pocket of his uniform and asked Spock, "May I
offer you refreshment?"
He
realized he was very hungry and thirsty. "Most kind."
"Preference?"
"Whatever
is convenient." He turned back to Christine.
She
did not look as if she was in distress. It was a rare opportunity to study her
features at rest, to analyze whether her beauty came from true attractiveness
or from the light that she showed even when being serious.
He
decided she was beautiful even when unconscious.
But
he preferred her awake.
The
doctor came back with a tray of food and a bottle of juice and pulled another
stool over so Spock could set the tray and bottle down.
"Is
the color of her hair common for humans?"
"No.
Nothing about her is common for humans."
"I
see." He took a deep breath. "Are you not engaged?"
"Yes,
to the woman Stonn seems inclined to wish to monopolize." He did not look
away from Christine.
"I
find relationships—in all their permutations—fascinating. And you as well for
again, you go your own way. Two women instead of just one."
"I
do not have two women. Christine is simply a friend."
"Of
course she is, Spock. Of course she is."
##
T'Pring
turned on Stonn as soon as they were seated in some sort of small dining area.
"Explain."
But
she was unsure whether she wanted him to explain how he was involved in any of
this or if the emotional support she had come to depend on from him since he
transferred to Ankeshtan K'til had been feigned.
He
held a hand up as one of his men brought food and drink to the table then
retreated to the hall. "You are angry."
"Anger
is an emotion."
"So
is jealousy. Which you routinely display for the woman I found you in bed
with."
"We
were all fully clothed. She was chilled and we were able to warm her."
"You
looked quite comfortable close to her. I watched through the body cameras on my
team as they broke in."
"What
is your point, Stonn?"
"I
am trying to deflect your ire from me to your nemesis. But she appears to
perhaps no longer be that since you show no concern that Spock is alone with
her in our medical bay."
"You
used me."
"I
had to. Angel is a threat."
"You
do not have them. So your capability seems...limited."
"I
thought they would be with you. I underestimated their capacity to put
self-interest above the need for witnessing their revenge in action. They
are...logical, it seems. Ironic."
"Was
everything I said to you... My disappointment with Spock and his..."
"Infatuation
with Nurse Chapel?"
"Yes.
Was that all transcribed and sent to whomever you report to."
"Of
course not. And I made it seem as if I used you to get to Angel with Xaverius,
not the other way around." He had the grace to look slightly sheepish.
"I was not in favor after losing them. But at least we did not lose
Xaverius."
"That
was not because of you. It was because Spock and Christine kissed in their ruse
to get me to sever the bond and take Xaverius back to Vulcan."
"Christine
now, is it?"
She
gave him her coldest look. If she wished to call the woman Christine, she
would. She called Spock's captain by his first name. She called his parents by
their first names as well. This was not unusual for her.
What
bothered her more is how easy it was to call Sybok—to even think of him—as
Xaverius. To strip him of all he had been because her future father-in-law
wished it, wanted her to redeem him rather than see him sent into exile.
But
she had long ago concluded that she could not redeem him. No one could. She had
not, however, told Sarek that. Because exile was the wrong sentence. He was too
dangerous to loose on the world.
But
she kept that to herself because Sarek was her champion with Spock so long as
she dangled the possibility of restoring his eldest child to him.
"You
are...disappointed in me?" Stonn was staring at her intently.
"You
are security and pretended to be a counselor." And a good one—or was she
too blinded by his support to accurately judge?
"I
am both. The two are not mutually exclusive." He gestured to her food.
"Eat. You are still weak."
"I
wish to be with Spock."
"I
do not care. Eat." His tone was different. He had always deferred to her,
but now he was not.
She
had to admit she found it a little refreshing.
And
he had assembled all her favorite foods. Would Spock have done as well? She did
not think so.
"There
is no logic in hunger," she said as she began to eat.
He
began to eat too, but seemed to have little appetite.
"What
troubles you?" she asked as gently as she could.
"That
I have lost you."
"You
never had me, Stonn."
"That
is untrue. And we both know it."
"Spock
was my choice."
"He
has another. He sits by her so faithfully." He pulled out a padd and
pushed it to her. What was obviously surveillance in the med bay showed her
Spock slowly eating as he sat by an unconscious Christine.
"As
he should watch over her. She gave me all of the antitoxin. Put her own self at
risk for a woman who stood in her way if she wanted Spock for her own. Fidelity
in this case is only just recompense."
"We
shall see." He sounded strange.
"What
does that mean?"
He
did not answer, just continued eating.
##
Christine
woke slowly, in more pain than she'd been in when she fell asleep cuddled in
between Spock and T'Pring.
"Do
not try to get up," Spock said gently and she turned to look at him.
He
actually stroked her hair—in sickbay? But wait. This wasn't sickbay.
"Where are we?"
"A
Vulcan ship headed to Vulcan."
"Why?"
"We
were rescued by them. The toxin is Romulan and while Starfleet would not have
the antitoxin, it is not unknown on my planet."
"You
are leaving so much out. 'Not unknown to...?'"
He
leaned down and whispered. "It is possible that we are being held by the
Vulcan secret police."
"I
didn't know Vulcan had a secret police," she whispered back.
"I
thought it had been disbanded. I obviously thought wrong." He touched her
forehead. "Your fever is down. But you are in more pain than before."
"Waking
up does that, though. We see it all the time in sickbay." She put her hand
over his and saw him seem to relax. "So I was wrong? I would have died
from that stuff?"
"Yes."
"Well,
shit."
"But
you were right that the immediate need was for T'Pring. She would not have
survived to make it to Vulcan. The antitoxin was critical for her at the moment
you gave it to her. Your system will tolerate waiting."
"Go
me." She knew her smile was a weak one but it was hard to be ebullient
when things hurt. "Is she okay?"
"She
is. She is with..." He sighed. "It is very complicated and I am not
sure worth explaining."
"Which
means it totally is. But you can wait."
"Ah,
our patient awakes." A new voice, and a very distinguished looking older
Vulcan—kind of reminded her of Roger. "I have pain meds but I am not sure
which are better in this case."
He
held out three vials and she pointed to the one she thought most efficacious.
"10 ccs."
"Thank
you." He calibrated and loaded it into a hypospray. "You did well on
the planet, with the antitoxin."
"Thank
you back."
"This
medicine will make you sleep, which I find a pity. I would enjoy exploring your
mind."
Spock
looked at him with what he feared was a very possessive look.
"I
mean with conversation, not with a meld." He patted her gently on the
sleeve. "And he says he does not have two women..." He scanned her
quickly, seemed satisfied with what he saw, and left them alone.
"What
was he talking about?"
"He
sees the situation clearly."
"You're
super tired or you would not answer that way." She looked to her other
side and saw a med bay, and also two soldiers. "Uhhhh?"
"Ignore
them."
"Only
if you go lie down and rest. I'm fine. You've watched over me and now you can
relax."
"I
will not sleep."
"Spock,
get in that bed. Now."
With
a sigh, he rose and walked to the bed, hopping up and lying down in the way of
a man who desperately needed to not be hovering on a stool.
"Close
your eyes. Meditate if you can't sleep. I don't care, just give your body a
break, okay?"
"Very
well."
"Thank
you for taking care of me."
"Thank
you for putting T'Pring above yourself." He turned to look at her, his
eyes incredibly soft. "I respect you even more than I did before."
She
could feel her eyes closing. Heard him say, "Do not fight it, Christine.
You need the rest."
And
then she was gone.
##
Spock
was resting when he heard footsteps coming into the medical bay. When they
turned in his direction, he sat up and saw Stonn, watching him with a look he
could not read.
The
doctor soon joined them, but Stonn did not take his eyes off Spock. Spock
refused to break the gaze.
"As
much as these childish games fascinate me, sir, must they occur in here?"
The doctor sounded very much like Sarek.
"We
are nearing Vulcan. Can she walk?" He gestured to the sleeping Christine.
"I
do not guess when it comes to my patients, as you well know. Give me a
moment." He walked over to Christine and scanned her, then gently nudged
her awake. "Nurse Chapel, we are close to the planet. Your condition has
not worsened. Do you wish to try walking or would you prefer an antigravity
gurney for transport to the planet?"
"I
don't know. I just woke up." She gave him a look that was full of amused
scorn. "But I'd rather walk if it's feasible."
"Either
way, you will need Tri-ox on Vulcan. I have some here." He injected her
and scanned her again. "All right. When you're ready."
She
sat up and smiled. "So far, so good."
"Please
go slowly." He even took her elbow to help her as she swung her legs over
the bed.
Spock
bit back a smile—was there no one she could not charm?
She
slid down and stood, never taking her hands off the bed behind her. "How
long a walk?"
"A
short walk to the transporter room," Stonn said. "After that, not far
to where the antitoxin will be administered."
"To
which hospital are we taking her?" Spock asked.
He
saw T'Pring escorted into the room by a member of the team. "Sir, we are
ready for transport."
"You
did not answer Spock's question, Stonn, and I, too, am curious. Where are you
sending her?" She moved closer to Spock as if declaring her allegiance.
"Guys,
can I sit down if you're going to argue over medical venues."
"There
is no argument. Let us go and you will find out." He left, clearly
expecting the rest of them to follow.
"We
will help her," T'Pring said, surprising Spock as she hurried to Christine
and took one arm.
Spock
took her other arm.
"I'm
not going to fall down."
"No,
you are not. We will ensure that. Also, this way we go where you go. Or if they
wish to take you, they must incapacitate us to accomplish that."
They
started walking.
Christine
turned to the doctor. "Thank you."
"You
are quite welcome." As they headed out the door and to where Stonn was
waiting, she asked, "Do you not trust the stern guy in charge."
"That
man works for her."
"Worked."
"There
is so much here I don't understand."
Stonn
went into the transporter room and they followed him onto the pad. Spock
expected the guards to follow but they all stayed off the pad.
Stonn
looked at the guard who had been in charge on the planet. "You have your
orders."
"Yes,
sir. All will be as we discussed."
"Then
transport us."
The
beam took them but they did not materialize in a hospital, or even a city. They
were in an estate surrounded by empty countryside.
"Where
are we?" T'Pring asked.
"My
family vacation house."
"Nonsense.
That is in Tapreve. This is not Tapreve."
"You
remember so much of what I tell you, T'Pring. It is charming." He glanced
at Spock. "Although I doubt he finds it so."
He
led them through the gates and into a large courtyard, then to the main doors
to the entrance, which were quickly opened by a woman.
"Did
they send the antitoxin?" he asked.
"They
did. I am ready to administer it."
"I
am oh so ready to receive it," Christine said and pulled away from them.
Stonn
nodded and the woman held it to Christine's arm and let it go.
"It
began to work quickly for me," T'Pring said, and Spock was surprised she
seemed so eager to reassure her.
"I
think coming this late, it might take a while. But it's good to know I have it
working for me." She looked like she was about to fall down, but before
Spock could get to her, T'Pring was there.
"Where
are our rooms?" T'Pring glared at Stonn. "You are a terrible host."
Christine
stumbled slightly. "I feel woozy."
"I
did not say it was pleasant when it worked quickly. I hoped for you it might
not make you dizzy."
"Just
for the future, I'd rather know than be surprised."
"Understood."
The
Vulcan woman took Christine's other arm. "I will show you to your
rooms."
Spock
stayed behind and followed Stonn into a salon, richly appointed. "You are
V'Shar?" And if so, this must be some sort of safe house.
"I
would never admit it if I were." He poured some wine and glanced at Spock
in question, who nodded. "The wine here is usually exceptional."
"How
are you explaining this to Starfleet?"
"There
was nothing to explain. As soon as you were taken, we told your captain that we
had located you and were on our way. I may have indicated that your father
knew."
Spock
took a sip of his wine. It was indeed exceptional. "And Captain Pike would
have accepted that. Hence no one is looking for us. He thinks we are soon to be
returned and I imagine the bulk of the Vulcan authorities has no idea we are
here."
"You
imagine correctly."
"So
we are prisoners? Why?"
"Not
prisoners. Bait." Stonn walked to a window with a gorgeous view of the
valley beyond the estate walls. "Angel has lost Sybok and they have been
deprived of their vengeance. But they have one last trick to play." He
turned to study Spock. "One they think we do not know about."
"How
will they find us?"
"When
you were unconscious, they put a tracker under your skin, the same way I did to
T'Pring. They will be on their way once they realize you are off the planetoid.
Which I imagine they have already realized."
"So
we will simply wait for them?"
"Yes."
"And
if they do not come?"
"Then
it will be a long wait. I did not indicate when we would return you to your ship.
Or T'Pring to the facility. It will happen when it happens." He sat in one
of the many comfortable looking chairs. "Angel will not stop and I take
issue with T'Pring being a target. If it was just you and your other
woman..."
"Understood."
He considered joining T'Pring and Christine but thought the time to bond might
be beneficial for them, so he sat across from Stonn. "You are in love with
T'Pring."
"I
did not say that."
"You
also did not not say that." It was something Christine would have said to
him, and he almost smiled.
Stonn
seemed to follow it with little issue. "No, I did not. You know we have
been rivals for some time now. I was...disappointed when she chose you."
"I
am sure you were." He took another sip of the wine. "You were one of
the few at school who did not torment me. Who would spend time with me. But was
that because you were kind or because even then you wanted to be with T'Pring
and she was fascinated with me?"
"I
think a little of both. I did not like how others treated you. It was at odds
with IDIC. Infinite diversity in infinite combinations seemed only to apply if
one limited themselves to full Vulcans."
"It
did not apply to my brother." He frowned. "But he hurt people?"
Stonn
nodded. "He was not punished for believing in emotional freedom. He was
punished for true crimes."
"By
which I take it you do not view the V'tosh Ka'tur as true criminals. Are you a
sympathizer?"
"I
am a counselor of logic. But that does not mean I do not see a need for
balance."
"Especially
when it comes to T'Pring?" Spock sighed and leaned his head back.
"Yes.
But now it is complicated. What exactly is going on with her and your
nurse?"
"I
am unsure."
"She
seemed unusually solicitous."
"Agreed.
But Christine did give her the full dosage of the antitoxin. She may feel
obliged to be grateful."
"Or
she may just be grateful. You underestimate her, Spock. She is a kind person.
She never judged you, not ever."
"I
know." He looked down. "I have been..." He took a deep breath.
"Christine is important to me. Just as, I think, you are important to
T'Pring."
"Then
that means that she is second best and I pity her." He got up and walked
to the window again. "My men will tell me when Angel's ship arrives. You
may go."
"I
do not work for you, Stonn. I will stay."
He
turned to look at him. "Fine. Then I will go."
He
walked out and left Spock alone in the salon with his wine.
##
T'Pring
paced as Christine moaned softly. "Can you not give her something for
this? It should not hurt to this extent."
"I
am not a nurse. Only an aide." She pointed to a table in the corner.
"There is water, some food that should be easy for a human in her
condition to tolerate. If you need anything..." She left before she made
it clear what exactly T'Pring was supposed to do if she did need anything.
She
walked to the bed where Christine lay curled in a nearly fetal position.
"I
wish the doctor were here. He'd give me some good juice." She groaned when
T'Pring felt her forehead. "I don't have a fever. I just feel like shit."
"I
am sensing your pain. I am sure Spock has told you that we are touch
telepaths."
"That's
pretty much common knowledge." But she leaned into T'Pring's hand.
Pain
roared into her. "This is more than I experienced. It is possible, with a
meld, I may be able to ease some of your pain. If you would like me to
try?"
"Yes.
Yes." She was already making room on the bed and T'Pring lay down facing
her. "I won't snap it like last time."
"You
should not have been able to do that. Had I not been in pain, I would have
realized that."
"I'm
pretty determined."
"So
I found out." T'Pring touched the meld points. "Are you determined to
steal Spock, Christine?"
"I'm
not trying to do that." She closed her eyes and let T'Pring in—in a way
T'Pring was not used to. So trusting, yet she sensed walls and barriers set up
all over her persona. Pain from long ago and not that far away. "You have
been hurt."
"You
could say that. Don't look for how, okay?"
"All
right." But it was hard not to. The woman was such a contradiction. So
warm and appealing on the outside, but defended like a queen's treasure on the
inside.
"I
think you developed feelings for Spock because you did not think he would want
anything from you."
"Shut
up." But she moaned as T'Pring went to work on easing her pain. "Oh,
shit. I did not know you could do that. Can Spock do that?"
"Probably.
Not as well as I can, though. I am, after all, trained to help retrain minds,
reroute negative patterns."
"I
didn't mean to get close to him. I pick guys who would ask nothing of me. If
they changed, I dumped them." She opened her eyes, and T'Pring was struck
by how light they were, the shade of blue. Spock's mother had a favorite
pendant. Aquamarine. That was the color of Christine's eyes. "He was just
a friend. Someone to tease. But then he wanted help with you. And then Angel...
And then the Gorn. I didn't mean to get too close."
"Shhh."
She worked on soothing her with her mind, as if Christine was a child. "He
is in love with you to some extent."
"Should
I leave the ship?"
"I
do not know." She felt as if she was being sucked deeper into Christine's
mind, felt pain pressing against her but this time it was not from the toxin.
"Oh." A man, a handsome man, his face loving at times, mocking at
others.
"I
loved him. He told me he loved me but I found out he told a lot of his students
that. But still, there was something there—something so strong. When we worked
together...it was like magic. But he used me. I was so young and he wasn't. And
he was married but she didn't live with him—worked in London. All the time he
was telling me lies about our future, he was married. And she was pregnant. He
wasn't even unhappy. I never intended to be the other woman. Not then and not
now." She was trying to pull away again, close to snapping the meld, so
T'Pring sent mental restraints into her, stopping her as gently as she could.
"Shhh.
It is all right. I know you did not intend to hurt me. I can feel your
regret."
"But
I do love him. I'm sorry. He loves you though." She reached up and stroked
T'Pring's face. "And why wouldn't he? You're beautiful and intelligent and
graceful and it's so clear you love him. And you let him be him."
She
moved her hand to T'Pring's hair, stroking lightly, causing shivers to go up
and down T'Pring's back. "You're so fucking pretty. Why would he even look
at me?"
T'Pring
eased the meld, feeling the pain from the toxin had been pushed back
sufficiently. "You're pretty too. We are different. So different."
She should get up. She should leave Christine to rest. She should go to Spock.
"We're
not that different." Christine moved a little closer.
She
should go. She should not be reaching out, stroking fine light hair, pulling
her to her, kissing her.
Christine's
lips were so soft. And they opened to her, and she followed her, until she
heard the door open, and heard the intake of breath.
it
was not the way Spock would have done that.
Christine
peeked over her shoulder "It's that Stonn guy." She studied her.
"You really like him."
"Shhhh."
"Is
this approved therapy?"
"She
was easing my pain with a meld."
"A
meld is generally conducted via one's hands, not one's lips."
T'Pring
moved slowly, as if he had caught them doing nothing wrong.
Was
it wrong? It had not felt wrong. Would she have stopped kissing Christine if he
had not walked in. "Where is Spock?"
"In
the salon. Angel is on their way. They inserted a tracker into him when you
were all unconscious. I thought you would want to know."
This
Stonn perplexed her. He was so clearly in charge, so clearly willing to hide
information from her and spool it out little by little. "You have
confirmation of this? Their ship has been spotted, then?"
"Not
yet. But we will wait here until they arrive. And then they may have the cell
next to Sybok for all I care." He turned to leave.
"You
are angry," Christine said. "That's not very Vulcan of you."
He
turned to look at her. "I have no idea what you are talking about."
Then he left.
"Should
you go to him? He seemed hurt that you were kissing me." She smiled in a
sensuous way. "I liked kissing you, if we're still sharing truths. Or I
guess I was. You didn't really."
"Here
is a truth. I care for Stonn. I always have. Both he and Spock are dear to me.
I had to choose one. I chose Spock."
"Left
Stonn pretty unhappy from the looks of it."
"Yes."
"You
could have invited him to join us." She laughed in a way that charmed
rather than annoyed T'Pring.
"I
do not think that would improve the tension. And what of Spock?"
"Invite
him too. It's a big bed." She grinned, and then she sighed. "You
really helped me. Thank you. I think I can sleep now."
"Are
you going to tell Spock that we kissed?"
"Wasn't
planning on it. But you can, if you want. Or if you think you need to, before
Stonn does."
"Good
point." She closed her eyes. "It was a difficult choice, which of
them to pick. Today, when he revealed he was not just my colleague, I thought
he had used me to get to Angel. That I meant nothing more than a connection to
capture them. But he did look...off just now, did he not?"
"He
was not happy. He definitely cares."
"I
should talk to him."
"I
think you should talk to Spock. Who is sitting alone in the salon. And is
bait."
"And
my betrothed."
"And
that."
T'Pring
touched Christine's cheek, then moved her fingers to her lips for a moment.
"I enjoyed kissing you. I have never kissed a woman before."
"I
have. I love it. It's nice. It's different."
"Yes.
Softer." She got up and took a deep breath. "I am going to talk to
one of them. Whichever of them I see first."
"A
valid way to choose." She grinned, then turned to her side.
"Get
under the covers."
"Bossy
and sexy. Mmmm." But she did as she said and let her tuck her in. "I
think I like you. I preferred it when I hardly knew you. You were just...his
woman. Not someone I might want to be with too." She smiled in a hazy way.
"Oops, that was way too much honesty."
"Go
to sleep."
She
closed her eyes and was out in moments.
T'Pring
left her and when she closed the door, she did not see Stonn in the hallway, so
she headed toward the front of the house to find Spock.
##
Spock
was standing by the window, a refilled glass of wine in his hand, when he heard
T'Pring's step. He did not turn, but reached for her hand when she came to
stand next to him.
She
jerked away.
He
glanced at her. "You only do that when you do not want me to read you.
What emotion is it you do not want to share?"
She
was silent so long he thought he would get no answer, but then she whispered,
"Guilt. Confusion. Anger. Understanding. Desire."
"You
love Stonn that much?"
"I
was talking about Christine mostly."
He
let an eyebrow rise and turned so he could see her face fully.
"Explain."
"I
was helping ease her pain with a meld."
An
extraordinarily intimate thing to do with a woman she had once so casually
dismissed as beneath his notice.
"And...we
kissed. Stonn came in. He saw us. He will no doubt tell you."
"Ah.
So this honesty is prompted only by that fact: that he might tell me before you
could?"
"Perhaps.
Would you rather I attempt to talk my way around it? I do not know why I kissed
her except she is..."
"Remarkable.
Generous. Charming. Intelligent."
"Yes.
All of those things. You left off attractive."
"I
did. That as well." He studied her. "You have never indicated you
were drawn to women."
"Because
I was not. Until..."
"Her.
Yes, I commiserate. I was not drawn to anyone but you until I met her." He
reached for her hand, felt only a level of understanding between them he had
never felt. "You do not have to let it mean anything. You have both been
through trauma. You have been sick. You have been medicated with substances
that might have loosened your inhibitions."
"Those
are wonderful excuses." She squeezed his hand tighter. "But untrue. I
kissed her because I wanted to. And had Stonn not walked in, I would have kept
on." She eased into him, curling her arm around his waist. "Do you
kiss her on your ship?"
"Only
the one time, that you witnessed."
"I
said it was nothing. Feigned. But I knew it was real when I watched it. I saw
the passion. The connection."
He
pulled her closer. "Yes. But she will not interfere in our lives. She
seems intent on that."
"But
what if we want her to. Not just you wanting her this time. But I, as
well?"
He
could feel how serious she was through where he touched her skin. The thought—the
thought both excited and calmed him. Could he have them both? "Ask me this
again when Angel is captured and we are free of Stonn's safe house." He
sighed. "He loves you still."
"I
know. I cannot say I am unmoved by him. Perhaps he is my Christine?"
"Except
that I have no desire to kiss him."
She
actually laughed. A soft puff of air, but still, a laugh. "Decide nothing
now?"
"Decide
nothing."
"I
will follow your counsel." She took his glass from him and sipped.
"This is very good wine."
"Yes.
Whoever owns this house provides well."
"I
did not know, Spock. That Stonn was anything other than a counselor."
"I
know. It is a surprise."
"An
understatement."
"Indeed."
##
Chapel
sat in her room, staring out at the beautiful view. Thinking about the kiss
last night. About how nice it was. About how much she'd like more. With T'Pring—and
with Spock. That could work, the three of them. She could even see leaving the
ship for a while, coming to Vulcan, building the relationship with T'Pring
while Spock soared among the stars.
A
soft knock sounded and she got up and opened the door, wanting to have at least
that much agency in this place.
Stonn
stood there with a breakfast tray. "I fear that your impression of me is a
negative one. I wished to talk with you privately—perhaps remedy that."
"And
you brought breakfast?"
"Even
coffee."
"My
impression of you is rapidly veering toward the positive. Please." She
gestured for him to come in and then debated on whether to keep the door open
or shut. This was sort of T'Pring's other guy, right?
"Shut
it, please. I have things of a personal nature I wish to discuss. I believe you
and I have much in common."
She
thought so too. So she shut the door and walked over to the table and sat.
"Won't T'Pring mind you being in here with me?"
"T'Pring
and Spock appeared to have worn themselves out. They are still sleeping." He
gave her a look she could only characterize as compassionate.
"Together."
"Oh."
She looked down.
"Drink
your coffee. I have spent time with humans. I know how they get when they have
not had their caffeine."
"You're
not wrong." She sipped. The coffee was a little off but then it was Vulcan's
attempt at the beverage—or possibly really stale real coffee. Still, it was the
thought that counted. "Do you love her?"
She
immediately blushed. Why was she asking him this? His opinion of her was going
to dive bomb.
But
instead he just answered, "I do. More than you could ever imagine. But I
take the long view on this. I can wait. Until she tires of Spock and his
absences." He reached out and touched her hair. "And his
dalliances."
"He
and I aren't having an affair."
"There
are many different types of affairs. I apologize for touching your hair. It is
just so different for a Vulcan. The color but also the texture."
"You
should have asked first. But you're impulsive, aren't you?"
"I
am not, actually. I am quite the planner." Something started to chime
softly and he pulled out a communicator. "You will sit silently and not
move."
She
tried to say, "Excuse me?" but couldn't open her mouth. She tried to
get up, but couldn't get her limbs to obey her. For a moment she thought she
couldn't breathe, but that was silly. She knew what this was. Had tried one
once with a more adventurous lover. A puppet drug. The coffee hadn't been off:
it had been drugged. She could only do what he let her do.
Stonn
gave her an actual smile, and it was full of what she thought was pity. Then he
held the communicator to his mouth and said softly, "You have him?"
"I
do."
Chapel
knew that voice. Why was he talking to Angel?
"Good.
He is free now. And you will leave Spock and T'Pring alone?"
"As
we agreed. Everything all right on your end? You sound off."
"It
is. I am in the clean-up stage."
"Really?
Why? Aren't T'Pring and Chapel ready to tear each other to bits? Won't that
play into your plan to steal her?"
"They
are about to become lovers. The three of them."
That
mocking laughter. Chapel remembered it too well. "Did not see that coming.
And I see everything coming. Had to be the blonde's influence."
"She
has appeal."
"I
agree. If my brother-in-law weren't head over heels for her, I'd beam her up
here for Sybok and me."
She
wanted to make a face of disgust but could not move.
"She
will destroy them. Once the clean-up is done."
"If
you say so. She has ethics though. I've done my research, which I think maybe
you have not. She may surprise you."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning
stealing another woman's man may not be her style."
At
least Angel understood her. But then that was their superpower. Finding out
what made a person tick and using it against them.
"My
husband is coming around from the drug your people gave him. Our communications
are over."
"Indeed."
He cut the connection. Then he looked at her. "I did not intend for you to
hear that. But it did not, as you can see, matter. I plan ahead. And this is
far easier than a shoulder pinch. Those ache for days."
Also
puppet drugs were easily reversed and had a half life of minutes. Virtually
undetectable by the next day.
"I
truly thought you would be the thing that destroyed them. But instead you were
in danger of cementing their union forever. With you in the mix. I could never
have competed with that." He murmured, "You may speak but at this
volume only."
"You're
working with Angel?"
"I
deduced they would try to hurt T'Pring. They did have plans to take her and
you, but they would have killed you both to punish Spock. I convinced them to
work with me. To trade Sybok for T'Pring. A worthy trade. My men are loyal to
me and they will not tell."
Stonn
did not appear to be the type of guy to leave things to chance. "Because
they'll be dead?" Even the doctor? He was so nice. Maybe he didn't know?
Maybe he'd be okay.
"You
are quick. No wonder they are both so infatuated with you."
"You're
obsessed with her."
He
actually shrugged. "I thought Spock would give you the antitoxin. I was
prepared to swoop in, to save her before she died."
"To
be the hero."
He
nodded. "But you already were. And she did gravitate toward that. So my
instincts were not wrong. I just had not counted on you. Next time I will do my
homework on all parties involved." He gently pushed the breakfast tray
aside. "For what it is worth, I think the three of you would have been
very happy." He reached for the meld points.
"No,
no please."
"I
have done this before. Many times. And it is what I will do to my men. I would
never kill such loyal assets unless there was no other option."
"Please.
Who will I be without my memories?"
"I
will only take from the time you were taken by Angel to this moment. You will
remember everything else of your life. I will not pry into your private thoughts.
I will not hurt you as I do this. You will simply not remember any of this. Nor
will T'Pring or Spock. Everything will be as it was. A do over, is that not the
human word?"
"Stonn,
no. Fight fair."
"Another
human saying: All is fair in love and war. And this is both." He pushed
into her mind. "I am sorry, Christine."
Then
he pushed her consciousness gently away as he worked and she floated, unsure
who was doing these strange things to her mind or even where she was until
blackness claimed her.
##
T'Pring
woke up in Ankeshtan K'til, in the medical bay. Stonn was at her side.
Why
was she here? She was last on Denaria with Spock. Until he had heard that
Christine was in danger and rushed out of their room. And someone else had come
in. Someone in a mask with weapon that they fired.
She
tried to remember anything after that but it was gone.
"Easy.
You were mind-wiped." Stonn looked down. "Xaverius."
"What?
No."
"Angel
kidnapped you and Spock and the nurse you so often speak of. I am unsure what
transpired. Except that you..." He was clearly upset.
She
reached for him but then stopped herself. They were not alone in here. "I
what?"
"You
called. You were—for you—frantic. Angel had injected you and the nurse with a
toxin and given Spock only one vial of antitoxin. He had to choose. And he
chose..." He looked down.
"He
chose her?"
"So
you said. You did not want to die. I commend that desire, T'Pring. I would not
thrive without you in the world. You traded Xaverius for your own vial of the
antitoxin, and I was not conflicted when I told you the location and turned off
the security grid when necessary so Angel could extract him."
"I
am responsible for Sybok being loosed on the galaxy?"
"No.
Spock is. For not choosing you. T'Pring, I would have chosen you. I would have
died for you."
She
did reach for him then, Let her hand settle on his cheek and felt only love
beating gently above the barriers all counselors of logic erected to keep their
privacy safe during the often deep sessions they conducted with patients. He
never hid his love under those walls.
She
wished Spock was as free.
Or
that he had made the sacrifices this man had made and probably would continue
to make for her.
But...
She pulled her hand away and he sighed.
"I
know he comes first. But, perhaps someday, he will not. And I am prepared to
wait, T'Pring. As long as it takes."
Such
constancy. It was a balm to her wounded heart.
"I
assume Chapel survived the encounter?"
"She
and Spock were returned to the Enterprise."
"Of
course. Angel would enjoy that. Hurting me that way."
"Angel
said you were even. I heard them say that. When Sybok was beamed up, when you
were beamed down to me. I do not believe they will bother you ever again."
"That
is scant consolation. I have committed treason. And I do not even remember
it."
"I
am sorry. I know it was trespass, but I tried to find your memories. I could
not. Sybok was skilled."
"Of
course he was. He had plenty of practice." She sighed. "I am
thirsty."
"I
will get you water." He rose but then leaned down and whispered in her
ear. "I will get you anything, at any time. I am here for you, no matter
what happens with Spock. We are...connected, you and I. In ways you and Spock
may never be."
"Thank
you, Stonn. I will treasure that."
As
her heart—a heart she did bury under the walls she'd constructed long ago—broke
again at Spock's hands.
Perhaps
someday there would be nothing left of her for him to destroy.
##
Spock
woke in sickbay. His first thought was of Christine.
"Easy,
my friend." Pike. Pike holding him down and pointing gently to the bed
next to him where Christine slept, as M'Benga scanned him. "You're safe
now. Do you remember anything?"
"I
was on Denaria with T'Pring. We had just come back from dinner. And then
Christine commed. She was in trouble. Angel." He tried to reach for what
had happened after that, but it was gone.
"We
think someone mind-wiped you," M'Benga said gently. "We think it
might have been the prisoner that Captain Angel wanted to free. Word from
Vulcan is that he has escaped."
"Xaverius
is free?" His brother was free. He was unsure how he felt about that. Then
again, he had never understood why he was being held at Ankeshtan K'til in the
first place. Simply for embracing emotions? The cause seemed insufficient.
He
turned to look at Christine. "Did they hurt her?"
"We
found evidence of a toxin and an antitoxin of some sort. Possibly black market,
maybe to keep you subdued." M'Benga shrugged. "It was in her system
and I checked with the docs on Vulcan, who said it was in T'Pring's as well.
But not in yours."
"Would
there be a reason it wasn't in yours, Spock?" Pike asked. "Captain
Angel was especially interested in you. Did they want you?"
"No,
not like that." He would not have helped them rescue his brother. Would
he?
He
tried to think back, to capture even a stray memory. But it was completely
blank. He was hurrying to help Christine and then he was here. "I do not
know why they would drug the women but not me. Unless..." He met Chris's
eyes. "Angel enjoys games. Poisoning them both would be an incentive to
get me to help. Providing an antitoxin would indicate..."
"That
your help was successful."
"Yes.
I am to blame. Captain, I surrender to Federation justice."
"Belay
that, Spock. I've already got one officer in a Starfleet security holding
facility. I don't intend to give them two. Especially when there is no evidence
you were involved. And if you did it, to save Christine and T'Pring. Well, I'd
make the same choice if it were Una."
"Thank
you, sir." But he felt a deep sense of shame. Whatever Sybok did now that
he was free—Spock had a hand in that.
"Oh,
man, did someone get the number of the shuttle that ran me over?"
Christine was sitting up, and M'Benga hurried toward her, scanning and then
smiling. "I can help with the headache." He loaded up a hypo and let
it go into her arm.
"Ah,
yes. You are a god, boss."
"Do
not spread that around. I wish no worship for my excellence." He laughed
and touched her shoulder gently. "I was worried. I will not lie."
"Why?
I was just..." She frowned. "I was just..."
"Do
not try to remember. They have mind-wiped us, Christine." Spock sat up and
swung his legs over the bed, watching her as she processed that. "Do you
remember Angel?"
"No,
I was in the bar with this guy..." She blushed. "Oh, man. He drugged
me. I remember getting woozy and him helping me out and then a voice. Yeah, it
could have been Angel's. What did they do to us?"
"And
T'Pring," Chris added quickly. "You were all three caught up in
this."
"Is
she all right? Why isn't she here?"
"She
was returned to Vulcan by your captors. We are unsure why, but Vulcan doctors
are better equipped to handle her," M'Benga said gently.
"We
did pretty good that one time." She grinned and Spock found himself
relaxing. That she could still smile that way, so free, so open, after whatever
they had been through. It meant she had not been hurt.
Or
if she had, she would never remember it.
What
had he done to ensure she would survive this? But not just her.
T'Pring
too.
T'Pring
who was not here.
Why
would Angel separate them? Unless he had done something that showed he favored
Christine? Had T'Pring severed their bond again? He reached for it and felt the
answering ping—but from the bond itself, not directly from her because he did
not reach that far in. Did not want to, not until he was more himself.
Not
until he made sure Christine was all right.
He
met her eyes. "I failed to protect you."
"It's
not your job to protect me."
Chris
coughed gently. "Maybe you want to contact T'Pring, Spock?"
Christine
blushed and looked away, and Spock felt her embarrassment as if it was his own.
How dare his captain decide how he conduct himself? T'Pring was on Vulcan,
where she always was. He was here.
And
so was Christine.
He
slid off the biobed and pulled a stool over to sit next to her bed. "I
believe I am exactly where I need to be, Captain."
He
saw her lips flicker into a smile she quickly hid.
He
heard his captain's sigh.
M'Benga
scanned her one more time and said, "She can actually go so long as she
rests."
Spock
looked up at him in time to see Chris glare. Did M'Benga favor Christine for
him? "Then I will escort her to her quarters."
"I'd
like to debrief you, Spock. There's reports and—"
"Later,"
Spock actually said. To this man he...he loved. The captain who had only ever
been good to him.
But
this was about Christine. He heard her slide off the biobed behind him and walk
to the door. He eased around M'Benga and a clearly unhappy Chris and joined
her.
As
the lift door closed behind them, she said, "Are you sure you know what
you're doing? For either of us? The captain was a fan of me."
"He
still will be. He will blame me for this." The lift was waiting and no one
stopped it on the way to her deck. When they got to her door, he said,
"Invite me in."
"Spock."
"Invite
me in, Christine."
She
palmed open her door and said, "Come in."
He
did, and once the door closed, he slowly traced her cheek with his finger.
"You were in danger. I left T'Pring. I did not stop to question that she,
too, might be taken. It is no doubt why she is on Vulcan. Angry...again. No
longer able to tell me that there is no reality where I would be interested in
you."
"She
said that?"
"Words
to that effect." He eased his hand around her neck. "I do not know
what the future brings. I do not know what I want ultimately. I just know you
are important to me." He touched her lips gently with his, nothing like
the kiss on the bridge.
He
would not take her now, and she would not want him to. She would want him when
he was free.
She
stood so still, her eyes the same compassionate ones she showed him after their
hug in the corridor, after his emotional outburst. When he was walking away
from her. Walking away but wanting not to.
"You
are crucial to me, Christine. Never forget that." He eased away. "And
we are friends, yes? I treasure that as much as the other feelings. The
certainty I have with you. That you will always be there for me."
"We're
friends. But Spock, if you're with her..."
"I
understand." But if that was true, why was he pulling her back to him? Why
was she wrapping her arms around his neck? Why were their lips now pressed hard
and fast and just like on the bridge only with no one watching?
This
one was just for them. Perhaps a promise?
"Figure
your shit out fast," she said as they pulled away. "I really like
kissing you."
He
smiled. A small one but a real one. He wanted to give her that. "I really
like kissing you as well." He backed up. "But T'Pring and I..."
"Have
unfinished business. And maybe she's your future." She sounded sad as she
said it.
They
stood gazing at each other, and he thought they were both unwilling for the
moment to end.
Then
her terminal began to buzz with a strange chime, and she ran to it, saying
"It's just Stanford. No doubt with tweaks for the disguise stuff. Hang
on." But then she answered the comm and her face changed.
"Roger."
"Hello,
Christine. I just wanted to let you know that I'll be on the ship for a few
months. The school wants me to see first hand how our tech is being used."
Spock
could not read her face. Was that dismay? Or longing?
"I
know we didn't part on the best of terms. I know I made mistakes. I know I
should have been... I should have been faithful. In so many ways."
She
did not answer, just stared at the screen in what was rapidly becoming
obviously longing and not dismay.
"But
I'll also be using the time to get used to being a single man again. Beatrice
left me for another man. The child was his. Rich, isn't it?" His voice was
intimate in a way Spock did not like. "I...I look forward to working with
you again. Closely."
"Okay."
It was the most helpless sound he'd ever heard her make. Who was this man that
he could reduce her to this? "When?"
"I'll
be there in a week."
"Oh.
Wow."
Again
the helpless tone, the monosyllabic replies. And the look in her eyes. The shy
smile, the downturned eyes. Was that look not for him alone?
She
did not even cut the channel. Waited for this Roger to do it. Then she turned
to him.
And
he saw it. In her eyes.
This
was going to change everything.
"He
and I also have unfinished business. Shit to sort out." She looked down.
"Only maybe it's not shit. Not if he's free. Not if he can be
faithful."
"I
see."
She
moved toward him, regret clear. "We're friends, Spock. We'll always be
that. Yes?"
"Yes."
But would they? He had said that but if he could not have her, if her as his
wife did not lie at the end of this journey, from friends to lovers to
bondmates—did he want to venture down this road?
It
would please his captain if he backed off. It would no doubt also please the
woman who still held the role of his future wife.
"I
am pleased you are unhurt by Angel's actions." He turned to go.
"Spock..."
"No,
Christine. It is fine. It is...it is perhaps quite fitting." And then he
left her alone and went to apologize to his captain for his behavior.
And
to ask for leave during the time this Roger would be on the ship. It had been
months since he had visited Vulcan and T'Pring would no doubt appreciate the
effort on his part.
Chris
was only too happy to grant him leave, even if he was down a first officer. But
La'an was serving in that capacity, not Spock. And the other science officers
on the ship were skilled.
"She's
worth the effort, Spock."
"Yes."
"You
don't sound overly enthusiastic."
"When
do I ever, sir? I am, as we both know, Vulcan." He took a deep breath.
"Apologies."
"Spock,
it's fine. You've been through God knows what. I'm just glad to have you back.
Go rest. I'll see you at shift tomorrow, okay?"
"Yes."
He went to his quarters and commed T'Pring. She answered immediately, her face
like stone.
"I
would like to come home. For a month, if that would work for you?"
"To
Vulcan?" She sounded incredulous. "For a month?"
"Yes,
if you can get the time off."
"I
have excess leave. And Stonn will manage capably in my absence. I would...I
would find that agreeable. Make your plans." She studied him. "You
have not asked me how I am? If I was harmed during whatever happened—I assume
you were also mind-wiped?"
"Yes."
He closed his eyes. "I am not myself. I should have led with that query.
Are you unharmed?"
"I
am. How is your other woman?"
"Fine."
And in love with someone else. An older claim, one he was not sure he had a
chance of fighting. He would not, however, tell T'Pring that.
Let
her think she had won. "I do not wish to speak of her. It is not, after
all, her that I am planning leave with."
"No,"
she said, her voice finally lightening, "No, it is not."
She
was called away and he signed off gratefully, tired of pretending that he was
not torn, that he was not even now considering going back to Christine's
quarters and trying to claim her before this Roger could return.
And
ruin everything they had built.
But
he did not. He settled in front of his terminal and made reservations at places
that would please and surprise T'Pring. Expensive places. Places to be seen by
others. To show how he valued her.
He
would give her what she wanted for the month he was there. The attentive
partner she craved. Who was proud of her. Who would never prefer blue eyes to
her luminous brown ones, white-blond hair to her raven strands.
When
he finished, he was exhausted and he went to bed, sleep claiming him quickly.
He
dreamed of Christine, not T'Pring.
FIN