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Date: Sat, 05 Jun 2004 17:32:21 -0400
Subject: [ASC] NEW:  TOS Doctor [R] 4/5 K/Ch, ChFF
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Forwarded by the ASC-VSO 
Posted: 1 Jun 2004 17:25:50 -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: 4/5
DISCLAIMERS: Paramount and Viacom own these characters--I'm just
warping canon.
SUMMARY: Sequel to "Nurse."  The continuing look at Chapel through the



The comm unit shrills in Jim's quarters.  "Medical emergency,
casualties arriving in sickbay."

She pushes herself up, reaching for her uniform as she rolls out of
Jim's bed.  Uhura has programmed the computer to page her in his
quarters as well as her own.

Jim's already up, pulling on his pants.  The crew is on shore leave. 
There should be no casualties.

They hurry to the lift, meet Len as he rushes from the other end of
the corridor.  "What the hell, Jim?  That planet's as peaceful as they
come."

They have to take Len's word for it.  They haven't been down yet,
planned to beam down in the morning.

The scene in sickbay is pure pandemonium.  The group of crewmen look
like they've gone ten rounds with a bunch of Tellarites.  Two crewmen
are trying to get to each other.  One of them pulls away from the
nurse holding him and leaps onto the other man.  They punch each other
brutally, seemingly uncaring that doctors and nurses are trying to
pull them away.

Len reaches for a hypo of tranquilizer, hands her another one.   They
wade in after Jim who is already trying to separate the two men.

Christine reaches the nearest of the two fighters and jams the
hypospray against his arm.  He jerks, then falls to the floor.

Someone grabs her by the hair, yanks her away from the man.  She falls
back, feels something connect hard with her side, taking her breath
away as several of her ribs crack under the vicious kick.

She looks up, sees a man bearing down on her. "Leave us alone."  His
face is savage as he kicks her again in the same place.

Jim is on him, knocking him off his feet.  As the man goes down, a
nurse slams a hypo against his neck and he collapses.

Christine forces herself up, reaches for the hypo another nurse holds
out and pushes her way back next to where McCoy is trying to hold off
two men.  She shoots one with the hypo.  He collapses, grabbing her
sleeve as he falls, nearly pulling her off her feet.  Her ribs protest
as she pries his fingers off her sleeve and rights herself.

McCoy sedates the other.  Four crewmen remain awake. 

Jim looks ready to knock them out just on general principle. 
"Report," he practically yells, and the firm--and very pissed
off--tone in his voice seems to reach them.

They straighten to attention.  One of them looks confused, the rest
just look surly.

Holding her side, she grabs a tricorder and scans the man who kicked
her, then the others.  They are all flying high on some kind of
psychotropic compound.  "Did you buy any recreational drugs?" she
asks.

"Sir, no sir."

McCoy has grabbed another scanner.  He runs it over one of the men. 
"Well, you ingested a hell of a lot of some very nasty stuff.  I'd
like to know how that happened."  He moves over to her, scans her
side.  "You've got two broken ribs, Christine."

Jim looks over at her and she waves them both off.  

"Fix them later."  She adjusts her tricorder, moves closer to the
crewman who seems the least violent.  "What did you eat tonight?"

He thinks about it.  "Something native.  They said it was fermented
meat."

She scans him again.  "Fermented.  Rotted.  Whichever, I guess."  She
looks at Len.  "It tests out much like ergot."  She looks at Jim. 
"We'll want to get a sample when we're down there.  See what effect it
has on the local population.  For humans, I think it's safe to say it
acts like a hallucinogenic."  She looks at the young man who seems
calmer with each passing moment.  "You're not just human, are you?"

He shakes his head.  "My grandmother was Betazoid."  He looks very
tired suddenly.  "Can I go?"

Len gestures to one of the nurses.  "Go with Nurse Crandell.  She'll
get you cleaned up."

The other three seem to be getting more agitated as they sit.  She
moves to one.   "Lie back."

"And if I don't want to?"  He is eyeing her hypo suspiciously.

"You can spend the night in the brig," Jim says as he steps closer.  

The man lies back; she shoots the hypo into him and he is snoring in
no time.  She reaches for the restraints, winces as her ribs complain.

"I can do it, Doctor."   A nurse pushes her aside gently and secures
the man.

Christine feels another hypo being pressed into her hand by Len.   She
goes to one of the other man, who glares at her as he lays back.  "I
don't like doctors."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, we don't think much of you at
the moment either."  She pats him on the shoulder as his eyes close. 
"I'm sure we'll all feel better about each other in the morning."

She feels Jim's hand on her arm.  "Let's look at those ribs."  

"I think I'd rather have a doctor do it, love," she says quietly.

"I'm a highly competent field medic."  He moves her out of the way as
Len and the nurses move the first men they knocked out over to the
biobeds.

Len hands her the regenerator.  "I know you can do this yourself."

She laughs, then regrets it as the movement strains her ribs.  "Damn."

Jim takes the regenerator from her. "Let me?"

She nods.  She'd let him do anything he wants.  Anything.

"This better not ruin our shore leave," she mutters.  Beautiful
planets she can enjoy with him are a luxury.

He smiles.  "Do you plan to work the whole time?"  His touch is gentle
as he moves the regenerator under her shirt.

She smiles.  "One sample.  That's all I want."

He nods, clearly unconvinced.  He works for a long time, finally pulls
the machine away from her skin, runs his hand down her side.

There is no pain.  She smiles.  "Thank you."

He nods.  Then his expression becomes grim.  "I was ready to kill
him."

"I know."  She takes the regenerator from him, moves to the comm unit.
 "Sickbay to bridge."

"Bridge here."  It is Sulu.  Sitting whatever extra shifts will let
him put his backside in the captain's chair.

"Sulu, we have a dangerous food interaction.  Tell those on shore
leave to avoid a fermented meat dish."

"I'll take care of it, Christine.  I'll have the transporter chiefs
brief anyone going out on the next shift."

"Good idea.  Thanks.  Chapel out."  

Jim is at her arm, urging her out of sickbay.  "Let's get some rest." 

She knows he means that she should get some.  "Who would have figured
you for such a mother hen?"

He smiles.  "I know.  Scary, isn't it?"

"Not really.  I kind of like it."  As they get in the lift and the
doors close, she kisses him quickly.

"Well, I kind of like you, so that works out well."  He grins at her. 

They both know his feelings are way beyond kind of liking her.  

And vice versa.

------------------------

She is finishing up her study of the ergot-like compound from their
shore leave.  She's been playing with it for the last month, knows
that her colleagues at Starfleet Medical will love having a shiny new
example of unexpected chemical-endocrine interactions.   Like ergot,
this compound seems to leech serotonin while it increases adrenaline. 
Some advanced class will soon be having fun with her new bio toy.

"Christine?"

She looks up, sees Jan standing at the door to her office.  "Hi."  She
smiles, but her smile dies as she sees the look on her friend's face. 
"Jan?"

Janice moves in quickly, sits in the chair next to Christine's desk.  
She takes a deep breath, seems to be trying to calm down.

"Jan, what's wrong?"

Jan looks up, she smiles deliberately, bravely.  But her eyes are
lost.  "I'm leaving."

"Leaving the ship?"

Jan nods quickly.  "You know I could have gone to OCS the last time I
left?  But I chose to specialize?"

Christine nods.  She was surprised and a little disappointed at
Janice's decision.  But it had been Janice's choice whether or not to
become an officer.  It was her right to choose not to pursue it, even
if Christine knew it was well within her friend's grasp.  "So you're
going now?"

She nods.  "The captain is sponsoring me.  Again.  Only this time I'll
really do it."  She smiles, a half-twisted grimace that is part
hopeful and part trying not to cry.

"Is it because of us?"  Christine takes Jan's hand.  

Her friend nods.  "I'm sorry.  I tried.  But it just hurts."  She
straightens her shoulders.  "And this will be good for me.  I need to
do this."

Christine nods.  She squeezes Jan's hand.  "I'll miss you so much."

Jan shoots her a disbelieving glance.  "Would that be during the five
minutes a day you aren't with him?"

Christine smiles, but it is a tight smile.  The words sting a bit. 
"More like ten."  Her answer isn't very nice and she shakes her head,
unwilling to have this be how she and Jan say goodbye.  "It's just new
and--"

"--I know.  I'm sorry I said that.  If I had him, I probably wouldn't
let him up to breathe, much less spend any time away."  She sighs. 
She seems about to ask something, then appears to think better of it.

"What?"

Janice looks up.  There is something terribly sad and sort of steely
in her gaze.  "What's he like?  What's it like to be loved by him?"

She can tell Janice doesn't want some flip answer.  She takes a deep
breath.  "Like being swallowed alive.  In the best way possible.  It's
everything I ever dreamed of, only it's nothing like I dreamed because
I'm not sure I ever imagined that anything could feel this good."

Jan looks down.

Maybe that was too much information?  Flip might have been better. 
"Other than that it sucks."

Jan laughs, but it is a weak sound.  "Yeah.  Right."  She slowly pulls
her hand free from Christine's grasp. "I have to go pack.  I wanted
you to hear that I was leaving from me."

Christine nods.  "I will miss you, Jan."

"I'll miss you too."  Janice closes her eyes, then seems to draw
herself up with some unseen strength.  "I'll miss all of you.  Take
good care of him, all right?"

"Always."

Jan nods, leans down and gives her a quick hug, then rushes out.

Christine stands, wanders out to sickbay, feeling strangely adrift. 
She can't decide if she feels guilty.  But she couldn't make Jim love
Janice anymore than she could make herself love Joe enough to stay
with him.  Love is funny, and doesn't march to anyone's drum but its
own.

Len walks out.  "You okay?"

She nods.  "Jan's leaving."

He leans up against the counter, studies her.  "It's not your fault."

"I know."  She smiles at him.  "Joe's abrupt departure was, but hers
isn't."  She sighs, then she frowns.  "Do you think I spend too much
time with Jim?"

He shrugs.   "Define too much."

"I can't.  I'm not exactly objective when it comes to him.  That's why
I'm asking you."

"It's been close to a year now, hasn't it?"

She nods.

He sighs.  "Christine, you're in love with him and he's in love with
you.  Neither of you have had a lot of happiness in your life.  If you
want to enjoy the hell out of it now that it's finally found you, I
say bully for you."

She touches his hand.  "That's so sweet."

"I thought so."

"You must be sleeping with someone or you'd mind not seeing your
friend more."

He laughs.  "It's possible."

"Who is she?"

"I'll never tell.  I'm a gentleman, remember?"

If they weren't in the middle of sickbay, she'd kiss his cheek.  "I
never forget it, Len.  Never."

--------------------------

It is late and she is lying on her stomach while Jim scratches her
back.  He uses just the right amount of pressure, his short nails
teasing her skin the way no one has done for her since she was a
child.

A hedonist, that's what she feels like.  Being with him is turning her
into a pleasure addict.

"Today's his birthday," Jim says softly.

She frowns, is unsure who he is referring to.  She's pretty sure it
isn't Spock.

"I've never sent him a present.  I see things that I'd like to buy
him, but I never do."

David, she realizes.  He is talking about his son.

"Would she really object?"

His hand stops moving.  "Yes. She really would."  His voice is tight.

She decides not to answer, is afraid she will only irritate him.  She
has a pretty good idea that whatever she says will be wrong.

His hand starts moving again.  "I'm sorry.  You don't deserve me
snapping at you."

"It's okay."  She waits for him to say more.

"I used to imagine what it would be like to bring him on board when he
was just a little boy.  I could practically see how excited he would
be, running from station to station.  Talking to everyone."  He falls
silent.  Then in a strangled voice, he says, "My son."

She turns slowly, pulls him down.  "I'm sorry."  She brushes his hair
back.  "I don't understand how she can keep him from you."

"You don't know her."  

She thinks maybe he will say more but he doesn't badmouth Carol.  She
thinks he must hate Carol to some extent, but he doesn't rip into her.
 Just takes his pain and swallows it whole.

"Do you blame yourself, Jim?"

He looks away.

"It's not your fault."

"I was the one who had to be out wandering the stars.  I was the one
who couldn't commit enough to her, to my son, to stay on Earth."

"Why should you have?"  She kisses his cheek, trying to somehow make
this sadness go away.  "You were in Starfleet. She had to know that
when she met you."

"She did."

"Then why isn't it her fault?"

He looks at her and there is a strange emotion in his eyes.  It takes
her a moment to realize it is a banked rage.  "Because if I let myself
think it is her fault, I can't stand it.  I'd want to..."

"Kill her?"

"Well, not literally."  

"I understand."  She rubs his back, is glad when he finally relaxes
against her.  "You would have made a great dad."

"An absentee dad."

She pushes him away so he has to look at her.  "My father was in
Starfleet, Jim.  He was a scientist and an officer and he was gone
more than he was on Earth.  But that doesn't mean I didn't love him. 
Or that he didn't play a huge role in my life.  It would have been the
same for David.  If Carol had just let you in."

He kisses her.  "Thank you."  He hugs her close.  "I didn't have
anyone to share this with last year."

"You can share anything with me, Jim.  You know that."

He curls around her.  "I do know that, Chris.  I trust you."

She smiles, runs her hand through his hair.  It is slightly damp from
their lovemaking earlier.  "Just like I trust you."

The look he turns on her is so tender it takes her breath away.  "Stay
with me forever?"

"Right here?  In this bed?"

He grins.  "Yes."

"Okay.  Forever."  She kisses him, their lips touching quietly.  There
is so much love in the touch that she wishes she could freeze the
moment and live in it forever.

"I'm serious, Chris.  We can't marry now, not if we want to stay
together while we're on the ship.  But later...I want to do this
right.  I want to marry you."

She studies him, feels a smile beginning.  "Fortunately for you, I'm
used to long engagements.  Just don't disappear on me, all right?"

He kisses her.  She touches his face, smiles at the idea that this man
will be hers.  That she'll be his.  They lie quietly; his hand
tightens on her, and she wonders what he is thinking. She glances at
his face; his eyes are very far away, as if they are looking into some
distant past or future that only he can see.

"I love you," she murmurs, low enough that the words won't bring him
back unless he wants them to.

He turns to her.  "I love you too.  More than you'll ever know, I
think."  He sighs.

"Go to sleep, Jim.  I'll watch over you."  She kisses him again, not
sure she will be able to get enough of the sweet way he is kissing
her.

"We'll watch over each other," he says as he closes his eyes.

A short while later he is asleep.  

She is surprised to realize she is crying.  She wants to protect him,
she wants to go to Earth and bring his son back for him.

She wants to give him everything.  But all she has to give him is her
love.

Fortunately, that seems to be enough for him.

--------------------

She studies the Ka'Vareth board, frowning slightly as she tries to
determine the least dangerous move.  Comparing it to backgammon is a
bit like comparing Chinese checkers to chess, but she's managing to
hold her own.

She thinks.

Spock sits back and there is an expression of satisfaction on his face
that she only sees when he has set her up.  She studies the board
harder, sure she is missing something.  "What did you do?"

When she looks at him, he merely lifts an eyebrow.

"Yeah, that's helpful."  She moves several pieces in a combination
move that makes his eyebrow go even higher.

The satisfied look is gone.

She grins.  "I've been reading up.  T'Lur's and Stavol's works have
been especially helpful."

He shoots her a glance.  She can only call it annoyed.  She chuckles.

"Most unexpected," he murmurs as he studies the board carefully. 
Before this turn, he's been moving his pieces quickly, almost
carelessly.

She's pretty sure she has just risen in his estimation.

"Having fun?" Jim asks as he leans over her, his hands trailing down
from her shoulders to her chest.  He stops short of her breasts.  His
affection is public but never in bad taste.

"I think Spock was until my last move."  She looks up at him, smiles. 
"I've been studying."

"It is most disconcerting," Spock says quietly.

"He doesn't sound disconcerted," Jim says, pretending to whisper.  "He
sounds damned pleased with you.  Should I be worried?"

"Yes.  We're thinking of running off together.  It'll be a romantic
life.  Logic.  Ka'Vareth.  We'll talk about you a lot, probably. 
Until the guilt at having abandoned you eats into us and we fall
apart."  She looks over at Spock.

"Yes.  What she just said."  He moves a piece finally.

She smiles, moves her piece to counter then sees that he has set
another trap for her.  She pushes the piece back where it was, studies
the board.

"Was your meeting with the Falkus delegation productive?" Spock asks
Jim.

Jim sits down between them, shaking his head.  "Depends upon how you
define productive.  If you mean listening to four very stubborn people
argue for five hours until you have a splitting headache, then yes, it
was highly productive."

She reaches out, pats him on the knee.  "Poor Jim."

"Next time you can talk to them," he says to Spock, laying his hand
over hers.

She looks over at him.  Smiles. They no longer count how long they've
been together in months.  It is hard for her to believe that more than
two years have gone by; the time has passed so quickly.

But it also feels like she's been with Jim forever.  Like she'll
always be with him.  His hand tightens on hers and she realizes she is
staring at him, with a no doubt sappy look on her face.

"You're not helping my game, love."  She turns back to the board.

"Please continue to distract her, Jim."  Spock gives them both one of
his almost smiles.

"The Falkus were saying that the Klingons have been busy on the border
areas again.  We'll no doubt get the report from Starfleet tomorrow."

"No doubt."  Spock frowns slightly.  "I do not understand why they
have increased these incursions into our space."

"Because they can?  Because we let them?"  Her voice is more bitter
than she means it to be.  Her eyes stray to Jim's abdomen, where the
Klingon weapon ripped him open.

"Would you rather we had war, Chris?"  Jim's look is patient
though--he's no great fan of Klingons either.

Spock shakes his head.  "I believe that soon we will begin to see
signs of stress in the Klingon Empire.  It may crack under its own
weight."

"Well, let's just hope it doesn't take us all with it."  She meets his
placid gaze with a stubbornness that she knows is highly emotional.

"She's right.  Watching the Empire fall and not getting sucked in will
be difficult."  Jim sighs.  "What's that old saying?  Why can't we all
just get along?"

"Because over history, very few cultures have ever been able to 'just
get along.'"  Spock looks at the board.  It is within his rights to
call time on her.

She finally sees what he has done.  It is intricate, and clever.  But
not inescapable.  She moves one of her pieces backwards, is glad to
see him frown.

"Which works did you say you had read?" he asks softly.

She laughs.  "I forget."  She looks over at Jim.  

He's watching her, a gentle smile on his face.  He loves her, and the
thought of that sends a shiver down her spine.  She loves him just as
much.

She never knew it was possible to be this happy.  If anyone had told
her she'd find it with him, she would have laughed in their face.

But here she is.  Happy.  Serene even.  With James T. Kirk.

And joking around with Spock.

The universe has one hell of a sense of humor.

-------------------------

The rec lounge is packed.  The promotion ceremony is always a popular
event, and Starfleet appears to have been particularly generous this
year in the upward mobility department.  Christine looks down, touches
the full lieutenant insignia she thought she was lucky to get when
Starfleet medical upgraded her two ranks for earning her M.D.  She
wasn't expecting to get another promotion this soon.

She shuffles forward, waits her turn.  Each person earning promotion
can choose who will pin on their new insignia.  She doesn't suppose it
will surprise anyone that she has chosen Jim.  They've been together
for over three years; everyone knows they are a couple.  And the crew
seems to approve.  Certainly their captain is usually in a good mood,
which everyone appreciates--and probably unfairly gives her credit
for.  Not that she's complaining.

She hears her name called, walks forward.  He's grinning at her, a
grin she still finds heart stopping after all this time.  She can
never be happy they caught that awful virus when five other people
lost their lives to it.  But still, if not for being stuck together on
that planet, in that shuttle, they would never have fallen in love. 
She feels a perverse sense of gratitude to the malicious little life
form that infected them.

He removes her old insignia, pins on her new.  His hands are so
gentle.  She knows they can be firmer, not so gentle.  She looks up at
him, surprised to find herself aroused.  His own expression is the one
he gets when he is trying to not look aroused.

She can't wait until they get back to their quarters.  Someday, maybe
when they are very old, she will stop feeling her heart skip at the
thought of going back to their quarters with him.  He is like a drug
she cannot stop wanting.  And that's fine with her.

Fine with him too, she thinks.  He loves that she still wants him.  He
loves to show her how much he wants her.

She walks off the makeshift stage, takes her place with the others in
the back.  There will be a receiving line, then a big loud party. 
It's the Enterprise tradition.  Protocol, then rowdiness liberally
facilitated with much alcohol.

They'll be handing out a lot of antitox in the morning. 

She is surprised to see Len get up from his seat and follow her back. 
He hands her a padd.  "I've been saving this as a surprise."

She looks at it.  A request from Starfleet Medical to speak at the
annual conference.  She's continued to send in research after finding
the ergot-like substance.  Apparently, the various compounds she's
found are enough to base a presentation on.  And they want her to sit
on a panel.  She looks at Len.  "They want me to speak?"

He nods.  "Guess I'll be staying here this year."  He doesn't look
terribly upset.  He's been enjoying the company of Lieutenant
Commander Parkins ever since she transferred onto the Enterprise. 
Christine never knew Len to frequent the security section much, but
he's nearly as creative at making it down to see his favorite redhead
as he used to be in getting up to the bridge.  Which means not at all
creative and totally ballsy when it comes to leaving sickbay.  He
doesn't make up an excuse, he just goes.

He gives her a hug.  "Congratulations, Doctor.  You get to speak in
front of all those people."  He laughs as he sees her go white, and
pats her on the arm. "You'll do great.  Just remember not to lock your
knees.  And imagine the audience naked."

"Go away now," she mutters.  She stares at the padd.  They really want
her to speak?  She didn't realize what she'd been collecting was going
to be _that_ interesting.

The ceremony ends, and people begin to go through the line, before
heading to the bar.  A few rebels skip the line altogether and make a
beeline for the booze.

Uhura is near the front of the line.  She pulls Christine close. 
"Welcome to the ranks of the exalted."

Christine rolls her eyes.  "You mean the ranks of more responsibility,
more headaches, and still being junior to most everyone that matters."

"Yeah, that too."  Uhura winks at her.  "You know Jan graduated OCS as
a Lieutenant JG?"

Christine nods.  "Top of her class.  I'm so proud of her."  It doesn't
surprise her that Jan grabbed the coveted number one spot and earned
two ranks.  She certainly had enough experience to make it.

It was funny really.  Christine never figured that she and Jan would
ever be anything approaching hard chargers and yet they seem to be
exactly that.  It is probably for the best that Jan left the ship,
that she finally decided to run after her future, not lust after
Christine's present.  Which doesn't sound very charitable and
Christine regrets it.  Even if she knows it is more true than not.

Uhura moves on, and Christine is busy accepting well wishes, trying
desperately to remember names.  Fortunately, Jim knows everyone and
being with him has made her better at learning people's names.  Being
with him has been an invaluable lesson in command.

"Christine," Spock's voice is soft.  "Congratulations."

She grins.  "Thanks.  Who'da thunk it?"

His eyebrow goes up, which was exactly the reaction she wanted.  "I
mean, it's an honor and a thrill, sir."

"Indeed."  He graces her with the small lift of his mouth that could
almost be a smile.

She touches his hand, smiles.  "I _am_ honored, Spock."

"You deserve the promotion, Commander."  

It really is thrilling to be addressed that way.  "Thank you,
Commander."

He nods and moves down the line.  Spock knows everyone's name too but
she expects that from him.  He is a Vulcan after all.

Jim is standing before her.  His grin is warm and full of pride.  He
loves her to excel.  "Commander?"

"Captain?"  She grins back at him, lets him knows that she is pretty
darn proud too.

"I'll catch up with you," he murmurs as he continues down the line.  

She can finally escape the protocol and get to the bar.  She orders a
wine and a scotch for Jim.  When she feels his hand on the small of
her back, she slips the glass into his hand.

"Bless you, my child," he winks at her.  His hand is pressing firmly
and as he sips at his drink, his eyes are dark.

He wants her.  Right now.  If he weren't captain, if she weren't a
guest of honor, they'd be hightailing it to his quarters.

A few hours later, they are doing just that. Only they are hightailing
with decorum.  Although she suspects that Jim would like to throw the
other riders off the lift as they turn what could have been a speeding
turbo into the starship equivalent of the local flitterbus.

They finally arrive at their deck, hurry off the lift.  He takes her
hand, pulls her after him.

She laughs.  "What's the rush?"  She winks at him.  She knows what the
rush is.  Is tempted to beat him to the door and palm it open herself.

"I want to be the first to make love to you now that you're a
lieutenant commander."

"I think that's a given, Jim."  She laughs as he pushes her through
his doorway, as he locks the door.  "You know, I may not be in the
mood tonight."

"No?"  He is peeling her uniform off.

"No."  She makes short work of his uniform.  "In fact, I'm sure I'm
not in the mood."

"Is that so?" he asks as he pushes her up against the wall and enters
her.

She gasps, lifts one leg to circle his hips and pull him closer,
deeper.  "I'm afraid so.  In fact, I don't think I like sex anymore."

"Really?"  He is touching her and she begins to moan.  "That's too
bad."

She is clutching him, and he has his eyes closed as he moves against
her.  His lips find hers, and the kiss is fierce and sweet.  They know
each other so well.  Know how to make each other crazy, how to make
love quickly, know how to draw the sex out.  Know what is good all the
time, what should be saved for special occasions.  There isn't much
they haven't tried, very few pleasures they haven't shared.  And
yet...they still have days like this where they can't keep their hands
off each other.  He made love to her right before the ceremony too. 
Wanted to be the last to make love to her as a lieutenant.

She shudders and cries out and hopes no one is near the door.  He
follows her a moment later, muffling his own cries in her hair, just
above her ear.  His breath on her tickles and she jumps, causing him
to jump too in reaction, both of them so sensitive.

"I'm so sorry you don't like sex anymore."  He kisses her, slipping
out of her and pulling her to the bed.  He sees that she is still
holding the padd, takes it from her.  "What's this?"

As they cuddle on the bed, he reads it through.  "This is great."  He
kisses her.

He is her biggest supporter.  She loves that.  

"You're going to go?"

She nods.  Gulps.  "I hate speaking in public."

He kisses her.  "Everyone does at first.  You just have to get used to
it.  I'll help you."

"You will?"

He nods.  "When I was a cadet, my eyes would glaze over, and my knees
would shake, and all I could hear was my heartbeat in my ears.  But
you give enough briefings and you get over it."  He kisses her. 
"You'll be great."  He makes a face.  "Besides, weren't you the one
who had to give the 'don't get caught with your pants down' lecture?"

She rolls her eyes.  She hated being in charge of the alien sex talk
for new crewmen and women.

He laughs.  "If you can lecture on sex with someone who sports
tentacles, then you can lecture on anything.  Especially something you
know well."

She giggles as he tickles her, then moans as his movements become less
playful, more deliberate.  "Are you saying I don't know tentacley sex
well?"

"No.  I'm just saying you know the stuff you research a lot better." 
He kisses her, his fingers moving relentlessly against her.

She arches, tries to move closer, but he is teasing her.  He'll want
her to say please before he lets her come.  And she'll do it.  She'll
beg if she has to.  And it won't bother either of them in the least. 
Because some other time--or maybe just later--she'll make him beg.

"What do you want?" he asks her.

She pulls his face down to hers.  "You.  Forever."

"That's not the stock answer, Commander."  He looks at her sternly. 
"Improvising now that you're a higher grade?"

She nods.  "I love you."

His eyes soften.  "I love you too, Chris."  He kisses her, the tender
kisses she is not sure she will ever get enough of.  Then he pulls
away, and his eyes sparkle, and his fingers begin their lovely dance
again.

"What do you want?" he asks.

"Com-pletion."  She grins; she has not yet begun to improvise.

He laughs and his fingers speed up.

"How do you ask?"  He nuzzles her neck. 

"Please?"  She sighs as he sucks on the skin underneath her ear. 
"Please, please, please."

"Since you ask so nicely," he murmurs as he goes back to marking her
neck up.

She closes her eyes and lets him push her over into pleasure.  It is a
very long fall down.

She lands, feels him pulls her closer, his leg looped over hers.  He
is aroused again and she reaches down for him.

He moans.  It is one of the loveliest sounds she knows.

This will never get old.  Never.  


End part 4 of 5

--
Forwarded to ASCL by:
Stephen Ratliff
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