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Date: Sat, 05 Jun 2004 17:32:11 -0400
Subject: [ASC] NEW:  TOS Doctor [R] 2/5 K/Ch, ChFF
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Forwarded by the ASC-VSO 
Posted: 1 Jun 2004 17:21:39 -0700  
In: alt.startrek.creative 
From: djinn@djinnslair.com (Djinn) 
 

TITLE: Doctor
AUTHOR: Djinn
CONTACT: djinn@djinnslair.com http://www.djinnslair.com
SERIES: TOS
RATING: R
CODES: K/Ch, Chapel Fic Fest
PART: 2/5
DISCLAIMERS: Paramount and Viacom own these characters--I'm just
warping canon.
SUMMARY: Sequel to "Nurse."  The continuing look at Chapel through the


Christine is dozing when she hears Jim cough and mutter something. 
She jerks awake, is on her feet instantly, searching his eyes for any
recognition at all.  He seizured for so long.  Brain damage is
possible--even likely.

She refuses to believe it though.   This is James T. Kirk.  He will
beat any odds.  He will be fine.

"Chris?"

She nearly weeps in relief as she touches his cheek.  "I'm here, Jim."

He is in pain, and she motions for the nurse to bring her a hypo.
Something that will relieve the suffering without sending him into
slumber prematurely.  Although she expects him to be asleep again
soon.  His body needs it.

"Are you thirsty?" she asks.  

He nods.

A nurse brings him an ice stick to suck on.  He licks it greedily, and
Christine finds herself evaluating the movement for anything that
looks off.  But his actions are just those of a hurt and exhausted
man.

Her hurt and exhausted man.

It is a dangerous thought.  They are not together.  They may not be. 
She should just be happy he is alive and awake and that he knows who
she is.  That he is looking at her again, that he needs her.

"What is it?" she asks.

"How long have I been out?"  His voice is weakening.

"Five days."  She strokes his hair back.  It's dirty but she doesn't
care.  Nothing matters except that he is alive.

"Have you slept?"

She starts to answer--starts to lie--and he looks over at the nurse. 
The nurse slowly shakes her head then flees.

"Chris."  He points to the biobed next to his.  "Sleep.  I know you
won't go to your quarters but lie down over there."

"I'm fine."

"You're not."  He yawns.  "Please, Chris.  Please sleep."

She can't help it, she leans down, kisses his cheek.  Lets her lips
linger on his skin.  Cooler now.  Not so hot.  "I'll sleep when Len
comes back, all right?"

He nods, his eyes already closing.  "I love you," he says, the sound
barely a whisper.

"I love you too."  She can feel the tears starting, tears of relief,
of sheer exhaustion.

Len comes in, smiles as one of the nurses stops him, points over to
Jim's bed.  He walks over, studies her and Jim.  "He's all right?"

She nods, wipes at the tears.  "He wanted me to sleep."

Len points to the biobed.  "He is the captain.  Do what he says."

She lies down.  Is asleep in moments.

When she wakes up, Jim is watching her.  She moves to the chair, pulls
it closer to the bed.  "Hey."

He smiles.  His eyes close but he forces them open.

"Don't fight sleep."  She takes his hand.  

His grasp on hers is weak.  Weak like in the shuttle when they died
and she feels a moment of panic, then forces it back.  He is not
dying.  He is just tired.  Hurt and in shock maybe.  But not dying.

He forces his eyes open again.  "Doesn't Joe wonder where you are?"

She shakes her head.  "Not anymore."

He looks more troubled than happy.  "You and he--"

"--Have gone our separate ways."

He searches her face, and she isn't sure what he wants to find.  

She feels a strange pain begin in her chest, looks away.  There are
some men who only want what they can't have.  She knows this.  She
just never pegged Jim for being one of them.  "I thought you'd be
happy."

"Are you?"

She isn't sure how to answer that, feels tears begin.  Why isn't he
happy?  Why can't he just answer the question?

She pulls her hand away from his.  "You need to sleep."

"Chris."

She closes her eyes.  The name hurts if he doesn't want her.  

"Chris.  Yes, I'm happy.  But if you're not..."

She looks at him.  He is happy?  "It came down to a choice.  You or
him."

"And you chose me."

She nods.  She still feels off balance.  This isn't going where she
thought it would.  Her voice is almost the Christine of old when she
asks, "Do you wish I hadn't?"

"No.  Chris, no."  He sighs.  "It's just..."

"It's just what?"   She wipes at her eyes.  She is dirty and tired and
hungry and feels like a lovesick fool.  What is he trying to say?

"I'm your captain."

"Oh, god.  Not this again."  She pushes the chair back, stands up.  

"Chris."  He reaches for her, but she backs up.

"I need to take a shower."  She moves away from him.

"Lieutenant Chapel, get back over here."  His voice is that of her
captain, not the man she loves, and it stops her dead in her tracks.

She sees two of the nurses turn around and stare at them.

"Sit down," he says, his voice shaking.  He is exhausted and he is
wasting energy yelling at her.

She doesn't look at him as she pulls the chair back toward the bed and
sits down.

"This is a problem."

She feels as if she might throw up.  Would that be a problem?

He grabs her hand, his grasp weak but determined.  "Look at me, damn
it."

She is crying and hates herself for it.  But she looks at him.

"I love you and I'm your captain and that's a huge problem.  But we'll
figure it out."

She frowns.

He smiles.  "If you'd let me finish, I might be able to get to the
good part."  He squeezes her hand.  "We'll figure it out."  He sighs
again, closes his eyes.  "Don't leave me," he says and she knows he
means more than just while he sleeps.

He is smart enough to know she was about to run.  Fast and very far
away.

"Don't leave me, Chris."

"I won't," she says.  

It's a problem.  But they'll figure it out.  It's all she needs to
know.

---------------------

Her days compress into a simple routine.  Sleep for a few hours, eat,
shower, and go back to sickbay.  Do her job and be with Jim.  Watch
him as he gets well.  Slowly.  More slowly than she or Len would like.

The weapon took so much out of him.  More than just blood.  He has so
little energy.  It is like the virus again, only they can find no
cause.  What kind of fiend would make a weapon like this?

She knows what kind.  A Klingon kind.

She is walking to the mess when she realizes that someone is watching
her.  She stops, turns around.

Joe is standing at the turbolift.  The doors open, then shut.  He
still stands there, staring at her.  Then he walks over.

"I'm transferring off."

She nods, unsure what he wants her to say.

"Do you care?"

She is not sure she does.  She knows admitting this would be stupid. 
"Of course, I care.  I do have feelings for you."

"Really?"  

She is rapidly beginning to hate the way he says that word.

"I know it's hard to believe, Joe.  And I'm sorry.  I wish I could be
what you want."

"You can be, Christine.  You just don't want to be.  You'd rather be
what he wants."

She decides not to tell him that what Jim wants may be far more real
than the Christine who was with Joe.

He steps closer, and she is suddenly aware that someone else has
stepped closer too.

Spock's voice is pitched low, the words only for the three of them. 
"Is everything all right?"

She wonders if he thinks Joe will hurt her, then wonders how he knows
anything is wrong at all.

"Everything's fine, sir."  Joe's voice is calm.  But his eyes as they
stare back at Spock and her are angry.

"I have approved your request for transfer."

She looks down, knows it is because of her Joe is leaving.  

Is glad he is leaving.

Maybe the Klingons aren't the only fiends in the quadrant?

"The Captain was a little busy, I guess?"  He looks at Christine.  The
unsaid "stealing my woman" is so clear to her she can almost see the
words hanging in the air.

And apparently to Spock.  "He is gravely injured."  His voice invites
Joe to debate that.

She glances at Spock.  His eyes are hard, firm.  Why is he sticking up
for her?  She expected him to resent her.

"Fortunately, he will recover."  This time there is much unsaid in
Spock's words.  Christine's role in that recovery, for example.

Joe takes a step back.  He looks at Christine and shakes his head.  

"I'm sorry, Joe."  The words are meaningless, she can see that.  

He is hurt.  He is angry.  He has every right to be outraged.

And she just wishes he would go away and leave her alone.

Joe turns, walks back to the turbolift and finally disappears inside.

"Thank you.  He wouldn't have hurt me."

"I am aware of that.  I thought, however, it would be prudent to avoid
a scene in the corridor."

She suddenly understands.  He is protecting Jim, not her.  She smiles.
 This she can accept.

"Do you disapprove?" she asks.

"It is not my business."  He indicates she should precede him into the
mess.

"Seems like you just made it your business."

He gives her a noncommittal nod.

"How did you know there might have been trouble?"

He almost smiles.  "Jim told me.  He asked me to look out for you."

She does smile.  "He did?"

He nods.  

"But you're also concerned for his reputation, aren't you?"

"I am."  He hands her a tray.  "It is my job."

"As first officer."

He shoots her a look.  "And as his friend."

"What are people saying about this?"  She's been in sickbay full-time.
 She doesn't know what her friends think, much less what Joe's friends
think.

Spock considers her question.  "Do you know the tale of David and
Bathsheba?"

She has to think.  Some dim memory comes to mind.  "Didn't he send her
husband off to die?"

"He did."

"That's hardly what happened here."  She frowns.  "Are they calling me
Bathsheba?"

"Among other things."  He helps himself to fruit and cereal.  "Does
that bother you?"

She wonders if he is enjoying the idea of her being called that.

"It does bother me.  But I can't make them stop."  She sighs.  

"The 'they' in question is not a large group, Christine."  Her name
sounds odd coming from him.  It rattles her a bit that he is calling
her that.

She doesn't reply, just busies herself getting food.

As he walks her out of the mess and toward sickbay, she asks softly,
"Do you approve of this?"

"You already asked me that."

"No. I asked if you disapproved.  This is different, and you know it."

He turns to look at her as they wait for the lift.  "Jim wants you. 
If you will make him happy, then I approve."

"If?"  She smiles.  He is being very careful.  Not that he's normally
mister flip.

"We do not know how this will turn out."

She sighs.  He is right.

No one knows how this will turn out.  Least of all her.

------------------

Jim is fidgeting; she can see him from her office.  He is clearly
tired of being stuck in the biobed.  Even the padds Spock brings him
to look over aren't diverting him anymore.

She gets up, moves to the door and looks out at the main ward.  Jim
checks both ways then pulls back the covers.  He slowly starts to move
his leg.

She clears her throat.  Loudly.

He doesn't turn.  Just eases his leg back under the sheet and pulls
the covers up.  His every action is grumpy.

She walks over, sits on the side of the bed.  "Going somewhere?"

"Anywhere but here."

She smiles.  "Should I take that personally?"

"Yes.  You're the one keeping me here."

Her smile gets bigger.  "No, that would be Len.  I thought you should
be able to start moving around a bit."

"You did?"

She nods.  "See what you get for demoting me?"  

She laughs and gets up, but he reaches out and pulls her back.  He is
smiling.  He is so much better--is finally healing the way they are
used to him doing.  She cannot begin to tell him how relieved she is. 
Doesn't want to scare him with how dark the prognosis seemed to be
when they first brought him in covered with blood and crying out in
pain.

He pulls her close.  It is late and the nurses are on break or in the
other room working.  She leans in, kisses him.

It is a great kiss.  Even weak as a kitten, this man can sweep her off
her feet.

"That was fun," he says.  "If I could do more of that here, I might
not want to leave."

She shrugs.  "He's your CMO.  You talk him into letting you go."

"You do it.  He'll listen to you.  You're the objective one."

She laughs.  "Hardly.  He thinks I just want you released so I can
take extreme advantage of you."

"Ooh.  That sounds nice."  He pulls her close again.  It is a very
long time before they pull away.

"I love kissing you," she says softly.  

"Yes, I am nice to kiss," he says, grinning as she pretends to punch
him.

"Are you bored?"

"Well, not right this second.  But the minute you walk away and go
back to work I will be."

She reaches for the instruments, scans him.  His injuries are nearly
healed.  He needs to start getting around.  Len is being an old woman
on this one.

Even if he's right that she does want to take advantage of their
patient.  And as soon as possible.

She pulls back the covers.  "You can walk around."  She looks at him
sternly.  "Slowly, and just in here.  Got that?"

"Yes, ma'am."  He mock salutes her.  Then he carefully swings his legs
over, eases himself down.

She pretends that she isn't watching him as vigilantly as she really
is.  Knows that he will hate her hovering over him.  She pushes
herself up on the biobed, swinging her legs as if this is the most
normal thing in the word.  As if she doesn't want to hurry to him and
take his arm.

"So do you really?"  He is concentrating on walking and the words come
out rushed.

"Do I really what?"

"Want to take extreme advantage of me?"  He turns, one length of
sickbay completed successfully.  She hopes if he walks enough, he'll
tire himself out and sleep.

She nods.

He grins.  "Can you define extreme?"

"Better not.  Don't want to get you too excited."  She looks down
suddenly.  She is not sure that she is actually in his league when it
comes to sex.  This might be false advertising on her part.

He traverses the room and stops next to her.  He pushes her chin up,
forcing her to look at him.  "Nervous?"

"I thought we covered this.  A long time ago."  She smiles.  "I'm
always nervous around you."

"Don't be."  He moves his hand, touches her jaw, slides up to her ear,
then her hair.

She moans and he smiles at the sound.  

"I haven't had much experience.  I mean Joe and Roger and there were a
few others when I was in school.  Nothing serious."  She stops
talking.  What she's saying might not be considered good P.R.   Is six
too many?  Or not enough?

"It'll be good."  His eyes are calm, all-knowing.  He smiles tenderly
at her.

"How do you know?  What if it's not?"

"I just know."  He moves his hand behind her head, pulls her to him. 
He kisses her and this time it is different.

Everything he does seems designed to arouse her.  His lips moving
softly against hers, his tongue tracing her upper lip, then pushing
into her mouth, meeting her own tongue, tasting it.  She shivers,
moans again.

"I rest my case," he says as he pulls away.  "You can tell a lot from
a kiss, you know."  He winks at her as he turns and sets off across
the ward again.

She exhales in what she is afraid is a very dreamy way.  He is capable
of turning her into a total sap.

He reaches the end of the room, starts the return walk.  As he sees
her touch her lips, he grins.  "I told you I was nice to kiss."  He
waggles his eyebrows at her.  "Just imagine what the rest will be
like."

She's been imagining it.  For years now.

He sighs.  "I'm sorry about Joe though.  I didn't want him to get
hurt."

She almost shrugs then thinks better of it.  It might not be nice. 
And Jim seems to want to be nice about her former lover.

"I don't think I was the right woman for him."

"Well, obviously not, because witness this conversation."  He smiles,
then his expression becomes more somber.  "He hates us, I imagine."

"Oh, yes."  She looks down.  "But I think he's hated the idea of us
for some time.  Apparently we light up when we're around each other."

He nods.  "Not something we can help, I'm afraid.  It's been my
experience that chemistry isn't something you can turn off."

"I know."

He yawns and she hops off the bed.  "That's enough for you, mister."

He lets her help him onto the biobed even though he doesn't really
need the help.  She covers him up, and he pulls her down to him again.

"Your turn," he says.

"My turn for what?"

He grins.  The mischievous grin she hasn't seen since he was shot,
another milestone that brings relief.  She grins back.

"Your turn to kiss me," he says.

She leans into him, gives him the best kiss she knows how.  Her hands
come up to run through his hair.

He groans, clutches at her arms.

Maybe she's not so bad at this after all.

When she pulls away he smiles, a self-satisfied,
cat-who-ate-the-canary smile.  "Like I said.  A lot you can tell from
a kiss."

She smiles too.

"I can't wait," he says, then promptly falls asleep, exhausted from
his two laps across sickbay.

-----------------

She sits at Jim's table, working on a report.  Len has relented and
allowed Jim to return to his quarters.  It will still be a few days
before he can begin very limited duty.

He lies on his bed and watches her.  "Come here."

She shakes her head slowly and continues working.

"Chris."  His voice alone sends shivers down her spine.

"You're recuperating.  And I'm working."

"Well, work over here."

She laughs.  She should have known he would be as relentless at this
as he is at everything else.  "No."

His voice changes.  "Chris.  Oh--"

She turns, sees he is clutching his stomach.  She is by his side in an
instant.  "Did you sit up too fast?"

He looks up, and she realizes too late that he is faking.  He pulls
her down hard, making her land in an ungraceful heap on the bed.  He
laughs.

She glares at him.  "If I'd fallen on you, you wouldn't think this was
so funny."

"I knew where you'd land."  He smiles, a smile that would leave her
weak in the knees if she was standing.

"And now you can watch me get up."

He grabs her, and she's glad to see that he has much of his strength
back as he pulls her back to the bed.

"You're better," she murmurs as he pulls her close.

"Yes.  I am."  He kisses her.

She relaxes, enjoying the sensation of being this close to him.  They
are lying on their sides, lips pressed together, his hand on her arm. 
As he pulls away, she whispers, "Just like the shuttle."

"Only we're not dying."  He touches her face.  "Not by a long shot." 
He begins to push her to her back.

She gently pushes him back.  "I haven't cleared you for that activity,
Captain."

He pouts and she laughs.  She kisses the pout off his face, kisses him
until he starts chuckling.

"And when will I be cleared for that particular duty, Doctor?"

"A few more days."

"I'm sure I can do it now."

"I'm sure you can too.  But that doesn't mean we're going to."  She
runs her hand through his hair.  "That doesn't mean it's good for you
yet."

"Oh, I'm sure you'd make it good for me."

She laughs.  She used to think sparring with him was fun.  This is so
much better.

He is studying her; his hand comes up and gently touches the skin
under her eyes.  "You look tired."

If Roger said that, it would be a criticism.  A roundabout way of
telling her to go fix her face, conceal the flaws.  But Jim seems only
to be making an observation.  And showing that he notices, that he
cares.  So she is free to just lie there and say, "I am."

"Sleep here.  Stay with me."

"Stay?"

He nods, pulls her closer.  His lips rest on her cheek.  "I love you."

"I love you too," she says.  It's such a luxury to have him all to
herself.

He pulls away, then gently pushes her to her back. 

"Jim.  I said--"

He lays his finger on her lips.  "You said I wasn't cleared.  You
didn't say anything about you."

She can feel herself blushing, tries to get up.

He holds her down with one hand.  He is definitely getting stronger. 
"Chris.  Just lie still.  You don't want me to hurt myself holding you
down, do you?"

She slowly shakes her head.

"Now, if I don't move much, will you object to this?"

She blushes again and he smiles.  

"You, on the other hand, can move around as much as you like."  He
kisses her gently.  "As much...as you like."

He slowly pulls up her uniform top.  She swallows hard.  He smiles,
and she closes her eyes in relief.  She has never been this nervous.

And he seems to know it.  His hands are running over her, his fingers
making her moan.  "Relax, Chris."  He settles in next to her, his head
on her shoulder, his lips on her cheek, then near her ear.  His voice
is so soft, so sensual.  "Just relax."

She shivers again, turns to him and kisses him.  He lets her do most
of the work, and she indulges herself.  His lips are soft, his tongue
is not.  It is a heady combination.

He pulls away gently.  "Lie back."

She relaxes against the pillow.  His hand slides down under her pants,
warm against her skin.  Down and down and then--there.

She throws her head back, breathes in through her mouth, moaning.

"I think you like that."  His fingers are pushing, prodding, touching
places.  "I think you like this too."  He is deep, moving in and out. 
"Soon," he says, drawing the sound out.  "Soon, this will be more than
just my fingers."

She turns to look at him.  She knows her eyes are half-closed, her
mouth is open.  He controls her; his fingers are the only thing in her
world.

"You are so beautiful," he whispers.  

Then his lips come down on hers and she wonders if it is possible to
overload from the feelings he is causing.  She moans, loudly.

He is moving so slowly, his fingers torturing her.  In and out, over
and around.  She wants to make him go faster but he just smiles as if
he can read her mind.  "Not yet."

"Please?"  She lifts herself against him.  "Please?"

"Please what?"  He grins.

She stares at him.  This is different.  So different.  Joe was a good
lover but he was silent when they made love.  Much tender staring and
soulful kisses.

Jim is giving her a look she can only call mischievous.  "Please
what?" he says again.

Roger would never have done this.  He would have rested.  Waited till
they could both partake.

Jim is doing this just for her.  Only not.  Somehow, this is as much
for him.

"Please finish it," she says.

He smiles.  "You want that?"

She nods, feels his fingers speed up just enough.  He knows exactly
what he's doing.  And it's wonderful.

"Like this?" he asks as he pushes her closer and closer.

She can't talk, just opens her legs to give him more access.  She
feels herself falling.

"Let go," he says, as he pushes her off the cliff.

She is not quiet as she falls.  He seems to like that a great deal.

As she lies, breathing heavily, he brushes the hair off her forehead. 
His lips touch gently down on her face.  Over and over again.  So
tender.  So sweet.

She smiles, knows it is a goofy smile.  "I owe you."

"Don't think of it that way."  He kisses her again.  "Mutual pleasure
is just that.  Mutual."  He smiles, lays his head down on her shoulder
again and closes his eyes.  "I love you.  I'm glad you chose me."

She can feel her eyes closing.  Gods, she is sleepy.  Her mouth is dry
and she wants to get some water but it is so comfortable lying like
this.  His head resting on her, his hand still under her pants.

"Go to sleep, Chris."  He relaxes, his head becomes heavier on her
shoulder.

She does what he says.  She goes to sleep.  And doesn't wake up till
morning.

He's still curled up against her.

-------------------------

Her chime sounds and she says, "Come," not looking up to see who it
is.

"Captain Kirk reporting for duty."

She turns, sees that he has his uniform on.  It's wonderful to see him
back in it.  Wonderful to see him looking tall and strong.  Not so
weak.  Not so close to broken.

She stands up, moves over to him.  "I think you're supposed to report
to the bridge, sir."

He pulls her into his arms.  "You think so, do you?"

They kiss for a very long time.  When they pull away, she says,
"Weren't we just doing this in your quarters?"

He nods.  "But you left before I was ready."  He tried to get her to
take a shower with him, but she decided to take one in her own
quarters.  She still hasn't cleared him for naughty activities.

Except, of course, the ones he does to her, for her.  She smiles. 
She's not being selfish.  Really.  He's just not ready.

He pulls her closer, lets her feel that he is, indeed, ready for her. 
"Tonight?"

She smiles.  "Let's see how you feel after half a shift?"

He isn't amused anymore, pulls away.  "I'm fine."

She doesn't let him bully her, or move her with his irritation. For
this to work, she has to be able to be his lover and his doctor.

"I'm sorry.  I know it's not what you want to hear.  But let's see how
it goes."  She doesn't try to cuddle up to him, doesn't try to cajole.

He stares at her, eventually nods.  "Fine."

"Jim."

When he turns, she moves closer.  "I want this too.  But rushing
it...what's a few days, if it means you don't re-injure yourself?"

He scowls, but it is a playful one.  "Easy for you to say."

She laughs.  "I thought it was mutual pleasure."  She reaches down,
begins to rub him.  "Maybe I could make it more mutual?"

"I thought you said--"

She puts her fingers on his lips the way he did to her that first
night.  She pushes him back to her desk, till he is leaning,
half-sitting on it.  Sitting down in her desk chair, she pulls his
pants down, then lets them fall to the floor.

He groans.  "Chris.  You don't have to."

She looks up at him.  "Of course, I don't have to.  I want to.  Now,
try to limit your movements...if you can."  She is not really worried
about injuring him, not when she is doing all the work.  And she can
see how much he needs it.  Needs her to touch him.  The way he's been
touching her.  For one purpose only.  Pleasure.  Shared, mutual
pleasure.

She grasps him, her hand tightening and she hears him mutter, "God,
yes."  She has strong fingers, a nurse's strength in her hand.  She
slides her hand and he throws his head back, groans again.

She bends down, kissing around his thighs, his belly, finally taking
him, tasting him.

He is saying something.  It sounds like a prayer.  She decides to keep
going.

Her hand is still gripping and his own comes down to cover hers,
squeezing her hand so that she tightens her own grip.

"Yesssssssss."  It is a hiss.  She didn't know he could make that
sound.  She loves that she can make him make that sound.

He is thrusting against her and she pushes deeper onto him, her tongue
never still.  There is only the sound of his groans and his whispered
urgings not to stop, please god don't stop, and the sound of suction
and moistness and then he is crying out.  She feels him start to pull
away but she holds him to her, lets him know it's all right. She loves
him for trying to be a gentleman.  Even if it's unnecessary.

She finally pulls away, releases her grip and he slumps.  

"Oh.  My god."  He pulls her up, kisses her.  

She loves him for that too.  Roger never would.  Roger would have
insisted she rinse her mouth out first.

Roger, she is rapidly learning, was a toad.

Jim pulls her in, hugs her close.  "Thank you."

"My pleasure," she whispers as she kisses his cheek, reaching down to
do up his uniform.  "Now promise me you'll take it easy.  And you'll
be back in your room resting in four hours.  Less if you get too
tired."

"Yes, ma'am."

She pulls back to be sure he's not mocking her.  He's not.  He's
smiling at her.  Her lover smiling at his lover.  And her captain
smiling at his deputy CMO.  She reaches up, strokes his face.

"What?" he asks softly.

"I'm just happy."  She sees his expression soften.

"I am too.  And you know what?  It feels nice."  He grins at her, then
walks out.

He's right.  This happiness does feel nice.

And long overdue.


End part 2 of 5

--
Forwarded to ASCL by:
Stephen Ratliff
ASC Stories Only Forwarding

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