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 R.

It's in the Spaces Between That We Fall in Love

by Djinn



Part 3: How We Met Again


He sees her in the corridors and it should feel natural, but she does not belong on the ship now, not with Chris gone and Jim here.


Not when he has finally found some peace without her. A sense of inevitability that he will end up with T'Pring once the burning strikes. He and T'Pring have not spoken since her ultimatum but from the way his mother speaks of her, it is clear she still assumes T'Pring will be her daughter-in-law at some point.


It is why he did not take what Leila offered. She was so different than Christine, had been almost a balm for the parts of him that still ached. Her love had soothed him during his time on Earth, when he had been at the Academy on rotation, a short distance from where Christine was. So near he could have been there in minutes even via conventional transportation.


Leila had offered him everything. But she wanted as much of him back. If Christine, who could easily live with shades of gray, could not tolerate the world he was able to offer, someone like Leila would never prosper.


He has gone out of his way to avoid Christine, but one day he turns a corner and they nearly collide. "Nurse."


"Commander." Her voice is the same. He allows himself to assess, to look for a flaw, a sign that age has made her less attractive.


He does not find it.


"I offer condolences on the loss of your fiancé."


She looks down. "Thank you."


"I expected you to be lost with him."


She laughs and mutters, "Jesus, Spock. Real nice."


He can feel himself flushing. "I meant only that he would want you near, not that I would wish you to be lost."


"Oh." She licks her lips. "Sorry, it's still raw."


As he was raw for so long after she left, the wound renewed when he saw her with Korby for the first time.


So, if he were being petty, they are even.


"I must go," he says, trying to keep his voice even.


"Yes. Of course." She turns to go then whirls back. "I know we can't be friends, but can we not be enemies?"


He assesses her statement. Is it true they cannot be friends? He does not want that from her at this moment but that is only because he wants to drag her to his quarters and have sex with her. "We will not be enemies."


"Good. Yeah." She hurries off.


He stands watching her for far too long.




He is outside of sickbay, trying not to cry. Having Christine touch him again, love him again. Her eyes so soft. The way she seemed to be forgiving everything.


She sees him. She has always seen the real him.


But she will not be his. Not with T'Pring in his life still. Why must he be tied to her? And how did they go so wrong? He loved her once—didn't he?


He cries again at the poor choice he made, then again at the thought of his mother, waiting for an "I love you" from him and it never coming.


It is a relief when Jim finds him, when he gives him something to do, something to focus on.


Something to remind him that he is Vulcan and above this.


They nearly die, but they do not and that is because of him.


He sleeps easily knowing this.


He wakes early for shift and goes to the mess for breakfast. He sees Christine ahead of him in line and is about to follow her to a table so they can talk about what she told him, when she joins McCoy at his table. His smile is wide and he winks at her as she sits.


Her smile is open as she laughs—Spock knows that smile. And that laugh.


Are they lovers?


He watches them for a moment as they talk with their heads close, and then, appetite gone, he dumps his uneaten breakfast in the recycler and reports early for his shift on the bridge.




He goes to her quarters. He will offer comfort because she has lost someone important to her. He will be kind because that is who he is when the Vulcan austerity is stripped away.


He wants to be kind to her.


He wants so much from her. Now that her search is over. Even if the reports show Korby was never found, he knows the truth.


He rings her chime and debates which approach he has practiced to use. But she does not answer. "Computer, alert Nurse Chapel that it is Commander Spock who seeks entry."


"Nurse Chapel is not in her quarters."


She at times drowned her feelings. Perhaps she is in the lounge.


He goes there and looks for her, but she is not there. "You okay?" Jim asks, coming up to him. "I for one am glad to see the backside of that planet. Poor Christine."


"Where is she?"


Jim narrows his eyes. "I didn't know you cared, Mister Spock. She and Bones went off—somewhere." He gestures around the lounge.


"They are not here."


Again Jim seems to be assessing him. "This does seem like you care, Spock. Interesting."


"I do not care. It is just customary to extend condolences on the loss of someone close."


"And that is a secret, my friend. Remember?" Jim pushes him toward where they keep the chess board. "I hope you're more careful with your play than you are with keeping mum on what we really found."


"Of course. I would not betray her or you."


She has gone somewhere with McCoy, who she sits with, closely, and laughs in the way she used to do with him.


McCoy who at times says unkind things to him—the way Jim's brother used to.


Has Christine told him she has feelings for Spock? Is McCoy jealous of him?


He should not be. Not when it appears he has her.


And he is free to enjoy her. Something Spock will never be.


His play is off. Jim thankfully doesn't comment.




He avoids her. It is the easiest way. This crew is different than Chris's. They expect so little of him in the way of interaction.


He has Jim, and that is all. McCoy is a trusted colleague but not a friend.


Not when Spock often smells Christine's perfume on him. Not when he sees how McCoy looks at her when he thinks no one is looking.


McCoy is in love with Christine.


He does not think Christine is in love with McCoy however. Or if she is, she loved Spock first.


That certainty is something he holds to: she loved him first.




"So, fun spores, huh?" It sounds like the Christine of old and he turns to look at her as she stands at his table in the mess, a tray in her hands. "There's nowhere else to sit and I don't feel like being in sickbay right now."


He knows her expression. He nods for her to sit, and once she does, asks, "Doctor McCoy is perhaps proving a less than ideal sexual partner?"


She freezes.


"I can smell your perfume on him. Far more than I ever did on Joseph during our first tour. You clearly get much closer to McCoy."


"It's just a friends thing," she says softly, focusing on her food. "Does everyone know?"


"I think no one but me knows." He leans in. "Were you with him on the planet?"


She laughs and it is a bitter sound. "I was. The spores made me nostalgic—about you. I told him all about how I love you. It hurt him. Enough to snap him out of it but there were more flowers nearby so he didn't get far." She meets his eyes. "I was snapped out of it by seeing you and her."


"I saw you, watching us."


"Did it give you pleasure? To know I was watching?"


"It did not. I was a slave to the spores. To be honest, I actually thought that since you were both scientists, you and Leila and I would be quite happy together."


She laughs, the way she used to, and he feels some of the old pleasure of being with her. "Did you tell her that?"


"No. And now, from this perspective, I do not think she would have wanted to share."


"No shit, Sherlock."


"But, Christine. I would have wanted that. I would have left her in those fields if I had thought I could not eventually have you both."


She is frozen, staring into his eyes the way she used to, when he told her truths she longed to hear. "I've missed you."


"I have missed you, as well."


"Seeing you with her. It just reinforced how much it all would have hurt—when you finally have to go to T'Pring." She looks down. "The distance between us feels so empty, but I think it's better than trying to be friends."


"That seems cowardly."


He expects any reaction except her agreement but she nods and says, "Losing Roger...it changed me, Spock." She takes a deep breath. Then another.


He realizes she is trying to ground herself. "Are you all right, Christine?"


"I should have been lost with Roger. We planned for me to be with him. But I—I got pregnant. And he didn't want the child at risk. I miscarried three weeks after the launch."`


He is unsure how to comfort her, but he wants to. "I am deeply sorry, Christine."


"I should be dead with him or I should be a mom to his child. This alternate path isn't something I know how to walk. Especially with you here."


"I will not make it harder. I promise."


"Okay." She reaches over without looking. Takes his hand and he feels her love and her pain, intermingling. Nearly overwhelming. "This thing with McCoy. It was probably stupid. I probably shouldn't have. But he and I...we kind of fit. We're both really angry at life." She shakes her head. "But now he's jealous of you. Because when I'm doped up on happy juice or under the influence of a virus, my natural instinct is apparently to vomit out how much I love you."


He is not sure what to say other than, "I will keep my distance."


"Thank you." She draws her hand back and he feels the absence of her intensely. "You and T'Pring are talking now?"


"We are not. No one here even knows I am engaged."


"I won't tell them." She smiles. "Even if I did tease you about it when we found Roger. Asking you if you'd ever been engaged. That was mean, I think. I'm just so mad, Spock."


"I understand. This started with my rage, after all. The end of us."


"The end of us." She pushes the tray away. "I need to go to sickbay. I need to make this better."


"Leave the tray. I will take care of it."


She stands and then stops, speaking so softly no one but a Vulcan would hear her, "Do you still have the photos?"


"I do."


"So do I. Only in a box now, not displayed."


"Hidden from him?"


"No. Yours are intermingled with all the rest. And there weren't that many of them, comparatively." She finally meets his eyes. "For you, that's all you kept. The ones of us."


"And of you alone."


"Right." She seems unsure what to say and he studies her, sees that she is, indeed, a different person than the young woman he first met. As is he. "What you did for Pike—how you risked everything for him. I admire that. I admire you."


"He was my friend."


"I know." Her voice is infinitely tender and he wants nothing more than to follow her to the corridor and steer her away from McCoy and to his quarters.


But he does nothing other than let her go, and take care of her tray once he finishes his breakfast.




He sits in sickbay, blackness surrounding him, but hears Christine's footsteps, the singular way she moves.


"Here." She presses a glass of water into his hands. "You're dehydrated from fighting that thing."


He sips, realizing she is right. He has been so focused on getting rid of what has infected him, he did not notice. "Where is Doctor McCoy."


"In his office. Feeling shitty for blinding you." She pulls a chair up next to him, the wheels making a particular sound as they move. "Hemmer made it work, Spock."


"Hemmer was Andorian and blind from birth." He looks at her even though he sees nothing. "I appreciate your concern, though. Your care."


"I questioned him. On your care. Made him mad on so many levels."


"You were only doing what you thought right. I trust you, Christine. I know there is much between us, not all positive. But I will always trust you."


"And I you." They sit quietly and she takes his hand gently. "If they send you for reorienting without sight, I'll go with you—if you want. You'll need someone there with you."


"You would do that?"


There is something different in her voice, something from the old days. "I wouldn't let anyone else do it, Spock. I love you and I want to help you."


"It might be a new start for us."


She laughs softly but he can tell she is also crying.


"Christine, I would—" He stops talking because he is seeing white-blonde hair—not in detail but as an aura around her blurry face.


"Spock, can you see?" She is up and to McCoy's office. "Doctor, something's happening."


McCoy rushes out, scanner already whirring. "Well, Mister Spock, what is this? I think you have another eyelid, like a cat."


"Most interesting, Doctor." He looks up at him but he is not seeing him; he is seeing Christine behind him. She is beaming, and brushing tears away.


He wants to push McCoy out of the way, and pull her to him. Tell her that they will be together always.


But T'Pring still exists. The bond still exists. So nothing has changed.


"Let's get you up to the bridge, Mister Spock. I know a captain who will be thrilled to see you. And to think it was my face you saw first."


Spock looks over at Christine. She rolls her eyes but when she touches him as he passes, he feels relief—and her enduring love.


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