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seren_ccdChapter Nine
The water is so very, very cold and her hands are going numb. Her grip starts to falter…
They raced along in the ground transport vehicle towards Basin Thirteen. McCoy did his best to just think about what to do when they found her (when not if). He checked the medikits, made sure there were blankets and absently took the re-breather Kirk handed to him. She'd be cold, she'd be wet, she'd be...
Oh, she had better be alive.
If she was otherwise, the things he was going to do... He stopped organizing and bent his head down, desperately trying to regulate his breathing and not think.
As if reading his thoughts, Jim reached over and placed a hand on his arm and Spock said, "One of the things that has always impressed me about Nurse Chapel is her ability to find solutions in the face of great tension. She is imminently capable of handling situations that are beyond most people."
McCoy raised his head and stared at the Vulcan. Then the corner of his mouth quirked and he said, "Thanks, Spock."
"She's going to be fine, Bones," Jim said.
"Yeah, fine," he said as he nodded. She'd be fine. His hands gripped the hand rails of the transport and he deliberately did not think about how her eyes shined when she was proving him wrong. Or how hearing her laugh was the best part of his day. How kissing her felt like coming home and how much he wanted to just lie in a bed with her and touch every part of her body. How much it would destroy him if she wasn't alive at the end of all this.
The transport pulled up to the rail of the basin. A large sign proclaimed a warning in Kalpharian and Standard. No one was to play near or around the basin as the risk of drowning was high. McCoy shuddered.
"Over here is the ladder," a worker said as he ran over to the panel that would deploy the ladder. "It retracts automatically when the basin begins to fill."
They hurried over to the rail and looked down. At first all McCoy could see was the murky, brown water and the stink was cloying. Then his eyes caught sight of blonde.
Oh, god. Oh, god, no.
Kirk sucked in a breath.
McCoy leaned over the rail. His hands tightened on the metal and everything inside him called for him to yell out in anger and pain.
Directly beneath them, several feet down was Christine Chapel. She was tucked against the wall and fully submerged. Her green dress fanned out around her as did her blonde hair. The rising sun glinted off the strands and McCoy felt his heart stop and his chest started to burn.
He was too late. They were too late and this was it. He couldn’t breathe and there was a dull roar starting up in his head.
Then, her eyes opened. And they widened. And she moved.
Really moved. She strained her body upwards as far as she could and blinked at them.
"Jim! She's alive! Son of a bitch!” McCoy shouted.
“The ladder!”
The ladder lowered and hit the water with a splash. Kirk, Spock and McCoy immediately descended and McCoy was the first to dive into the water. He reached Christine's side and realized her situation.
She was handcuffed to the pipe and had been using a, was that a god damn reed, to breathe. The tip of the reed was just above the surface of the water and the pipe not too far away was still pumping water into the basin. The idea of what they might have found if they had arrived a few minutes later made him feel sick to his stomach. He made a motion with his hand and she nodded slightly. She sucked in a deep breath through the reed and then held it. He removed the reed from her mouth and pressed the re-breather to her lips. She let out the air she'd been holding and breathed in.
He nodded and yelled, "Jim, get these things off her!"
McCoy moved to situate himself right behind Christine and held her body up as best he could while treading water himself.
Kirk swam to Christine and then putting a re-breather in his mouth, he sank beneath the surface of the water and activated a small laser blade. McCoy started to feel the strain of trying to hold Christine up while maintaining a steady, smooth kick with his legs and wondered, not for the first time at the fortitude of this woman.
When the laser cut through the handcuffs and she started to sink in relief. He quickly raised her up and Spock grabbed at her waist. Kirk surfaced and pulled his re-breather out. McCoy hurriedly raised her up out of the water and she spat the re-breather out and sucked in deep, gasping breaths.
"Easy," McCoy said into her ear. "Easy, Chapel. Slow and easy. You know how to breathe."
She nodded and calmed down. He pulled her closer and her head lolled back to rest on his chest. She looked up at him and said, "I think I've seen enough of the rice terraces, thank you."
McCoy pressed a kiss to her forehead.
They swam over to the stairs, Christine in between him and Spock. They helped her climb up the ladder, her limbs stiff with cold and McCoy could see her begin to shiver. Hands reached for them once they reached the top and they were ushered to the ground transport. She sank onto the seat in the back. McCoy pulled a blanket out of the backseat and draped it around Christine's shoulders and started to rub her arms briskly. She winced.
"It's just the blood circulating," he said.
"I know," she said huddling under the blanket. “Still hurts.”
"Well, you do know that they've got a public swimming pool?" Kirk said as he stood nearby dripping. "You didn't have to come all the way out here for a dip."
"You know me, captain," Christine said hoarsely. "I prefer to get close to nature."
"Do you know who brought you here?" he asked his attitude quickly becoming business-like.
"I think his name was Atro," she said letting McCoy give her a hypospray of antibiotics. "He's Annha, our tour guide’s, brother. I came across them last night." She sat up and the blanket fell off her shoulders. "There's a bomb!"
"It's okay, we know," McCoy said pulling the blanket back up. "We found them and they’ve been disarmed."
"We also have Atro and his partners in custody," Ruthan said coming over. "If I could ask you some questions---"
"No," McCoy said angrily, glaring at the ambassador. "That's enough. We know the rest of this story. She's going straight to get clean and then dry. You can question her later if you have to." His voice was tight with anger and his hands clenched.
"Len, Doctor McCoy," Christine said though her teeth were chattering. "I'm fine."
"No, the doctor is right," Ruthan said, obviously trying to be accomodating and falling back on diplomacy. "And he is quite correct. We do know how this particular story ended. Please rest and warm yourself. On behalf of myself and my planet, I am so very sorry."
Christine nodded. "Thank you, ambassador. I hope you will be fair in your dealing with Annha. I believe she was honestly surprised to discover her brother was at the root of all this."
"I give you my word, we will be absolutely fair in our questioning," Ruthan said, giving her a slight bow.
"Come on, Chapel," McCoy said wrapping his hand around her wrist.
She nodded again. She settled in her seat and leaned against McCoy as they headed towards their living quarters. Christine closed her eyes and was asleep in seconds.
She was woken a short time later when they arrived at their destination. Uhura was waiting outside looking calm and in control; her only giveaway to her troubled mind was the tightness of the skin around her eyes.
She stepped forward and helped Christine out of the transport. "Easy, girl. How good does a warm shower sound?"
"Like bliss," Christine said, her legs a little wobbly. McCoy came around to her other side and put his arm around her waist.
"Let's get you inside then," he said. "My room."
Christine felt too tired to argue the point and the three walked inside and headed up to McCoy's room.
"Christine, I am so sorry," Uhura said when they reached his room. "I should have realized you hadn't come back."
"Oh, hush, you," Christine said. "I'm a grown woman and I should have taken my comm with me. A lot went wrong last night, but none of it was your fault." She took her friend's hand and squeezed it tightly.
"Still..." Uhura said.
"No. Not going to hear it," Christine said with a smile and letting her friend hug her. "No apologies, okay?"
"Okay," she said. "Now, go get warm." Uhura gave her a meaningful look and if Christine had been more alert, she might have blushed.
But as she walked into McCoy's room all she felt was tired and cold. He was puttering about with a medikit and she let herself lean against the wall next to the closed door. Her head fell forward as the tension began to drift from her frame.
"Christine."
She looked up and realized that he must have been calling her name for some time. His eyes were worried and he kept moving his tricorder from one hand to the other. Christine gave him a small smile.
"Okay, scan me, doctor," she said.
The corner of his lip quirked up and he said, "Thanks. Just hold still and then you can have that shower."
Christine stood still as he ran the tricorder over her body, every now and then shivering. She looked down at her ruined and still wet dress and cringed. It was no longer a lovely pale green, but was instead brown with mud and dirty water. There were several ragged rips and a long tear that went all the way from the hem to her thigh. McCoy finished his scan.
"Only a slight case of exposure and your body temperature is a little low, but the shower will soon fix that," he said. "I'm not registering any infections, but let's get those scratches on your wrists seen to."
He led her over to a chair next to a small table and she sank down onto it, letting out a small sigh of relief. She laid her hands on the table and McCoy brought over his medikit.
"You really never do go anywhere without one of those," she said.
"Well, you have met our captain, haven't you?" he said running the dermal regenerator over her wrists. "Besides, I know full well you've got one of your own in your room."
She shrugged. "Caught me."
McCoy finished healing her cuts and put the regenerator back into the kit. He picked up her hand and kissed the back of it. His face thoughtful and sad.
"Len?" she asked quietly.
He shook his head and kissed her hand once more, his lips warm on her cold skin. He seemed to come out of his thoughts and his expression turned gentle. "It's okay. Go get clean."
The warm water was at first too hot on her chilled skin, but it quickly became bearable and Christine bowed her head under the spray, letting the water run over her head and down her back.
She started when she heard the door open and she held her breath.
"Christine?" McCoy called. She let out a gusty breath of relief. "Uhura brought some clothes for you to change into."
"Thanks," she called out. "I'll be out in a minute."
"Take your time," he said. She heard the door close.
Christine picked up the soap and began to scrub at her skin. She stopped when her skin turned a bright shade of pink.
Next she washed her hair. Then she washed it again. Then another two times to make sure all there was absolutely no trace of the sour smell of rotten rice.
Finally, she turned the shower off and grabbed a thick towel. Christine buried her face in the towel for a moment and breathed in the scent of freshly washed material. Then she got out of the shower and briskly dried herself off.
She pulled on the underwear Uhura had given McCoy and the shorts she normally slept in. However, she discarded her usual top in favor of a large shirt that had been left in the bathroom. One that was clearly McCoy's. She pulled it over her head and breathed in the smell of him still present in the fabric. The scent immediately calmed her.
After finding a hair drying unit, she dried her hair and used McCoy's comb to brush her hair flat. Then she exited the bathroom.
McCoy looked up from where he was seated at the table where he'd fixed her wrists earlier. He had changed into dry clothes, soft looking trousers and a tunic that was open to halfway down his chest. He looked sexy and tired and so, so beautiful, she thought.
"You're wearing my shirt," he said, his voice tight and almost hoarse.
"It's very comfortable," she said.
He nodded and swallowed hard. "Okay." He stood up and his hands hung loosely at his sides.
Christine bit her lip.
"I-- You--," he tried to say. He lifted his hands to emphasize whatever point he was trying to make, but then he let them just fall back to his sides. Christine had never seen him look so helpless. "Damn it, Christine. I almost lost you today."
"I know," she said her voice catching. Her heart hammered in her chest as she remembered the terror of being in that water, alone and cold. Damn everything else, all she really wanted was to feel him.
They stared at each other.
Finally McCoy said again, "You're wearing my shirt."
"Yes."
Then they were crashing into one another in the middle of the room. One of his hands cupped the back of her neck, both of hers tightly fisted his shirt and their mouths pressed against each other. She opened her mouth under his instantly and he wasted no time and matched her fervor with his own. Christine thought she'd catch on fire from the heat that was flaring up between them.
His hand pressed her lower body to his and then moved up under her recently appropriated shirt. She gasped into his mouth at the feel of his warm palm on her back.
"I want you," she said harshly against his mouth. "I want you, I want you, I want you."
McCoy pulled his head back and met her eyes. "Damn it, woman, don't you know you have me?"
Christine smiled for the first time that night and felt the last remnants of cold evaporate from her body and mind.
"I want to go to bed, McCoy," she said firmly.
"Only if you take me with you," he growled. His mouth descended onto hers and she pressed her body closer to him, drinking him in. Her hands clutched at his hair as his slipped down to curl under her thighs and she gave a slight hop as he pulled her up. Her legs automatically wrapped around his hips as she continued to kiss him.
He took three unsteady steps and they fell onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, breathless and wanting more and more and more.
It wasn't long until Christine was warmed completely from head to toe.
“Right there.”
“There?”
“Mmm hmm.”
“That is pretty tight.”
“Told you. Ow!”
“What? Sorry. Damn it, Chapel. How is it that your feet are this filled with knots?”
“It’s where all my tension goes.”
Christine looked at McCoy from her reclined position against the headboard. She was wonderfully naked as was he, with the soft duvet covering them both. He was propped up at the foot of the bed with her right foot in his hands while he slowly massaged it. His forehead was creased in the way it tended to be when he was faced with a problem and he was determined to fix it. She sighed. She really didn’t care if it meant he was going to slowly massage away the tension that resided in her feet.
His thumb found a persistent knot on the ball of her foot and she winced at the initial ache and then relaxed as it was soothed out and away with firm, determined strokes.
She studied his face and marveled at the way the sex had only served to relax them both. She’d want him again shortly, she was sure of it. The hum of her body had died down from the fever pitch his hands and mouth had brought her to again and again. But it was still there. On a low frequency, but still very, very much there.
“So,” he said.
“So.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Pretty god damn spectacular, doctor,” she said raising her arms above her head and stretching. “How about you?”
He chuckled and didn't hide his appreciative look at the way her body moved. “I’m feeling pretty god damn spectacular myself.”
Christine grinned, feeling sexy and languid. McCoy looked up at her and matched her grin. She closed her eyes and focused on the sensation of his firm hands on her foot. She was actually close to dozing when he asked, “Are we still not talking about what the heck was up the other night?”
Oh. Right. That. Christine opened her eyes and bit her lip. Talk about killing a mood, but she had to tell him about returning to Earth. She opened her mouth to speak, but he beat her to it.
“It wouldn’t, by any chance, have anything to do with Starfleet Medical bugging you about returning to finish your doctorate?” McCoy asked.
Christine whipped her head up so fast her vision swam. “How on earth do you know about that?”
“Well, contrary to popular opinion, I am your commanding officer,” he said rubbing at a stubborn knot in her instep. “Starfleet is obligated to tell me about my head nurse needing to return to Earth for a sustained period of time.”
Christine blinked and said nothing. How utterly typical. All that worry and he already knew? She was torn between feeling relieved and annoyed.
He stopped rubbing her foot and frowned. “Was that seriously it? That’s what freaked you out? The fact that you’re about to finish your doctorate?”
“It’s not the fact that I’m about to finish my doctorate, Len,” she said. “It’s the fact that I’ll have to go back. For a year. At least.”
“Oh,” he said. He pursed his lips thoughtfully.
“Oh,” she echoed. He resumed massaging her foot. “That one’s good. Do this one.” She offered up her left foot.
“Bossy.”
“You love it.”
“I do,” he said looking her in the eyes. “I really, really do.”
Oh. Well. That changed… absolutely nothing and everything.
Christine held his gaze for awhile and then smiled as she sank back into the pillows, feeling giddy. He chuckled and focused on her foot.
"Why didn’t you want to tell me?" he asked.
"It's not that I didn't want to tell you," she said. "I just didn't want to tell you."
He gave her another look. "Right. You're speaking Standard, but I have no idea what you're saying."
Christine sighed and covered her face with her hands. "Roger asked me to wait. He was going off on his big quest and he asked me to wait. It was unfair and presumed far too much and I headed straight to enlist with Starfleet the day after. I didn't want to have to do that to you. Make you wait."
McCoy stopped her by enfolding her foot in both of his hands and pressing it to his chest, right above his heart.
"Christine Chapel, am I Roger Korby?" he asked, his voice stern and his brow furrowed.
"No," she said.
"Do you want your doctorate?"
"Yes."
"Do you plan to come back to work on the Enterprise when you've finished?"
"Yes."
"Do you love me?"
Christine bit her lip and then said, "So much that it makes me crazy."
McCoy's cheeks flushed a little but he went on. "Do you believe that I love you?"
"Yes."
"Good. Let's double check this," he said. He held up her left foot and started to list items using her toes. "One – I am not Roger Korby. Two – you want your doctorate. Three – You want to come back to the Enterprise. Four – You love me. Five – I love you."
She fought the urge to giggle and lost. "Okay. So what does all this add up to then, Doctor McCoy?" She wiggled her toes and he pressed a kiss to her arch.
"That I am not some asshole who only wants you to make him look good while he takes all the credit," he said, his eyes dark and his voice strong and certain. "That I want you to go back and get that doctorate and work in my sickbay and challenge me in every way possible. That I love you more than I can say and I know that we are going to fight this every step of the way, but god damn it, Christine, this is going to be worth it."
Christine felt like she was underwater again. But this time the water was warm and inviting and made her body hum in all the right places.
"Okay," she said.
He arched a brow. "Okay? I pour myself out to you and all I get is an 'okay'?"
She smirked. "No. You get more than an 'okay'." She withdrew her foot from his oh, so capable hands and sat up, the duvet falling away to reveal her naked chest. To his credit his eyes stayed fixed on hers. Christine bent forward and then slowly crawled across the duvet to him. She put a hand on his chest and pushed gently. He lay down on his back and she straddled his hips. His hands came to her waist as he gazed up at her.
"You get all of me, McCoy," she said before leaning down and covering his mouth with hers.
Next
The water is so very, very cold and her hands are going numb. Her grip starts to falter…
They raced along in the ground transport vehicle towards Basin Thirteen. McCoy did his best to just think about what to do when they found her (when not if). He checked the medikits, made sure there were blankets and absently took the re-breather Kirk handed to him. She'd be cold, she'd be wet, she'd be...
Oh, she had better be alive.
If she was otherwise, the things he was going to do... He stopped organizing and bent his head down, desperately trying to regulate his breathing and not think.
As if reading his thoughts, Jim reached over and placed a hand on his arm and Spock said, "One of the things that has always impressed me about Nurse Chapel is her ability to find solutions in the face of great tension. She is imminently capable of handling situations that are beyond most people."
McCoy raised his head and stared at the Vulcan. Then the corner of his mouth quirked and he said, "Thanks, Spock."
"She's going to be fine, Bones," Jim said.
"Yeah, fine," he said as he nodded. She'd be fine. His hands gripped the hand rails of the transport and he deliberately did not think about how her eyes shined when she was proving him wrong. Or how hearing her laugh was the best part of his day. How kissing her felt like coming home and how much he wanted to just lie in a bed with her and touch every part of her body. How much it would destroy him if she wasn't alive at the end of all this.
The transport pulled up to the rail of the basin. A large sign proclaimed a warning in Kalpharian and Standard. No one was to play near or around the basin as the risk of drowning was high. McCoy shuddered.
"Over here is the ladder," a worker said as he ran over to the panel that would deploy the ladder. "It retracts automatically when the basin begins to fill."
They hurried over to the rail and looked down. At first all McCoy could see was the murky, brown water and the stink was cloying. Then his eyes caught sight of blonde.
Oh, god. Oh, god, no.
Kirk sucked in a breath.
McCoy leaned over the rail. His hands tightened on the metal and everything inside him called for him to yell out in anger and pain.
Directly beneath them, several feet down was Christine Chapel. She was tucked against the wall and fully submerged. Her green dress fanned out around her as did her blonde hair. The rising sun glinted off the strands and McCoy felt his heart stop and his chest started to burn.
He was too late. They were too late and this was it. He couldn’t breathe and there was a dull roar starting up in his head.
Then, her eyes opened. And they widened. And she moved.
Really moved. She strained her body upwards as far as she could and blinked at them.
"Jim! She's alive! Son of a bitch!” McCoy shouted.
“The ladder!”
The ladder lowered and hit the water with a splash. Kirk, Spock and McCoy immediately descended and McCoy was the first to dive into the water. He reached Christine's side and realized her situation.
She was handcuffed to the pipe and had been using a, was that a god damn reed, to breathe. The tip of the reed was just above the surface of the water and the pipe not too far away was still pumping water into the basin. The idea of what they might have found if they had arrived a few minutes later made him feel sick to his stomach. He made a motion with his hand and she nodded slightly. She sucked in a deep breath through the reed and then held it. He removed the reed from her mouth and pressed the re-breather to her lips. She let out the air she'd been holding and breathed in.
He nodded and yelled, "Jim, get these things off her!"
McCoy moved to situate himself right behind Christine and held her body up as best he could while treading water himself.
Kirk swam to Christine and then putting a re-breather in his mouth, he sank beneath the surface of the water and activated a small laser blade. McCoy started to feel the strain of trying to hold Christine up while maintaining a steady, smooth kick with his legs and wondered, not for the first time at the fortitude of this woman.
When the laser cut through the handcuffs and she started to sink in relief. He quickly raised her up and Spock grabbed at her waist. Kirk surfaced and pulled his re-breather out. McCoy hurriedly raised her up out of the water and she spat the re-breather out and sucked in deep, gasping breaths.
"Easy," McCoy said into her ear. "Easy, Chapel. Slow and easy. You know how to breathe."
She nodded and calmed down. He pulled her closer and her head lolled back to rest on his chest. She looked up at him and said, "I think I've seen enough of the rice terraces, thank you."
McCoy pressed a kiss to her forehead.
They swam over to the stairs, Christine in between him and Spock. They helped her climb up the ladder, her limbs stiff with cold and McCoy could see her begin to shiver. Hands reached for them once they reached the top and they were ushered to the ground transport. She sank onto the seat in the back. McCoy pulled a blanket out of the backseat and draped it around Christine's shoulders and started to rub her arms briskly. She winced.
"It's just the blood circulating," he said.
"I know," she said huddling under the blanket. “Still hurts.”
"Well, you do know that they've got a public swimming pool?" Kirk said as he stood nearby dripping. "You didn't have to come all the way out here for a dip."
"You know me, captain," Christine said hoarsely. "I prefer to get close to nature."
"Do you know who brought you here?" he asked his attitude quickly becoming business-like.
"I think his name was Atro," she said letting McCoy give her a hypospray of antibiotics. "He's Annha, our tour guide’s, brother. I came across them last night." She sat up and the blanket fell off her shoulders. "There's a bomb!"
"It's okay, we know," McCoy said pulling the blanket back up. "We found them and they’ve been disarmed."
"We also have Atro and his partners in custody," Ruthan said coming over. "If I could ask you some questions---"
"No," McCoy said angrily, glaring at the ambassador. "That's enough. We know the rest of this story. She's going straight to get clean and then dry. You can question her later if you have to." His voice was tight with anger and his hands clenched.
"Len, Doctor McCoy," Christine said though her teeth were chattering. "I'm fine."
"No, the doctor is right," Ruthan said, obviously trying to be accomodating and falling back on diplomacy. "And he is quite correct. We do know how this particular story ended. Please rest and warm yourself. On behalf of myself and my planet, I am so very sorry."
Christine nodded. "Thank you, ambassador. I hope you will be fair in your dealing with Annha. I believe she was honestly surprised to discover her brother was at the root of all this."
"I give you my word, we will be absolutely fair in our questioning," Ruthan said, giving her a slight bow.
"Come on, Chapel," McCoy said wrapping his hand around her wrist.
She nodded again. She settled in her seat and leaned against McCoy as they headed towards their living quarters. Christine closed her eyes and was asleep in seconds.
She was woken a short time later when they arrived at their destination. Uhura was waiting outside looking calm and in control; her only giveaway to her troubled mind was the tightness of the skin around her eyes.
She stepped forward and helped Christine out of the transport. "Easy, girl. How good does a warm shower sound?"
"Like bliss," Christine said, her legs a little wobbly. McCoy came around to her other side and put his arm around her waist.
"Let's get you inside then," he said. "My room."
Christine felt too tired to argue the point and the three walked inside and headed up to McCoy's room.
"Christine, I am so sorry," Uhura said when they reached his room. "I should have realized you hadn't come back."
"Oh, hush, you," Christine said. "I'm a grown woman and I should have taken my comm with me. A lot went wrong last night, but none of it was your fault." She took her friend's hand and squeezed it tightly.
"Still..." Uhura said.
"No. Not going to hear it," Christine said with a smile and letting her friend hug her. "No apologies, okay?"
"Okay," she said. "Now, go get warm." Uhura gave her a meaningful look and if Christine had been more alert, she might have blushed.
But as she walked into McCoy's room all she felt was tired and cold. He was puttering about with a medikit and she let herself lean against the wall next to the closed door. Her head fell forward as the tension began to drift from her frame.
"Christine."
She looked up and realized that he must have been calling her name for some time. His eyes were worried and he kept moving his tricorder from one hand to the other. Christine gave him a small smile.
"Okay, scan me, doctor," she said.
The corner of his lip quirked up and he said, "Thanks. Just hold still and then you can have that shower."
Christine stood still as he ran the tricorder over her body, every now and then shivering. She looked down at her ruined and still wet dress and cringed. It was no longer a lovely pale green, but was instead brown with mud and dirty water. There were several ragged rips and a long tear that went all the way from the hem to her thigh. McCoy finished his scan.
"Only a slight case of exposure and your body temperature is a little low, but the shower will soon fix that," he said. "I'm not registering any infections, but let's get those scratches on your wrists seen to."
He led her over to a chair next to a small table and she sank down onto it, letting out a small sigh of relief. She laid her hands on the table and McCoy brought over his medikit.
"You really never do go anywhere without one of those," she said.
"Well, you have met our captain, haven't you?" he said running the dermal regenerator over her wrists. "Besides, I know full well you've got one of your own in your room."
She shrugged. "Caught me."
McCoy finished healing her cuts and put the regenerator back into the kit. He picked up her hand and kissed the back of it. His face thoughtful and sad.
"Len?" she asked quietly.
He shook his head and kissed her hand once more, his lips warm on her cold skin. He seemed to come out of his thoughts and his expression turned gentle. "It's okay. Go get clean."
The warm water was at first too hot on her chilled skin, but it quickly became bearable and Christine bowed her head under the spray, letting the water run over her head and down her back.
She started when she heard the door open and she held her breath.
"Christine?" McCoy called. She let out a gusty breath of relief. "Uhura brought some clothes for you to change into."
"Thanks," she called out. "I'll be out in a minute."
"Take your time," he said. She heard the door close.
Christine picked up the soap and began to scrub at her skin. She stopped when her skin turned a bright shade of pink.
Next she washed her hair. Then she washed it again. Then another two times to make sure all there was absolutely no trace of the sour smell of rotten rice.
Finally, she turned the shower off and grabbed a thick towel. Christine buried her face in the towel for a moment and breathed in the scent of freshly washed material. Then she got out of the shower and briskly dried herself off.
She pulled on the underwear Uhura had given McCoy and the shorts she normally slept in. However, she discarded her usual top in favor of a large shirt that had been left in the bathroom. One that was clearly McCoy's. She pulled it over her head and breathed in the smell of him still present in the fabric. The scent immediately calmed her.
After finding a hair drying unit, she dried her hair and used McCoy's comb to brush her hair flat. Then she exited the bathroom.
McCoy looked up from where he was seated at the table where he'd fixed her wrists earlier. He had changed into dry clothes, soft looking trousers and a tunic that was open to halfway down his chest. He looked sexy and tired and so, so beautiful, she thought.
"You're wearing my shirt," he said, his voice tight and almost hoarse.
"It's very comfortable," she said.
He nodded and swallowed hard. "Okay." He stood up and his hands hung loosely at his sides.
Christine bit her lip.
"I-- You--," he tried to say. He lifted his hands to emphasize whatever point he was trying to make, but then he let them just fall back to his sides. Christine had never seen him look so helpless. "Damn it, Christine. I almost lost you today."
"I know," she said her voice catching. Her heart hammered in her chest as she remembered the terror of being in that water, alone and cold. Damn everything else, all she really wanted was to feel him.
They stared at each other.
Finally McCoy said again, "You're wearing my shirt."
"Yes."
Then they were crashing into one another in the middle of the room. One of his hands cupped the back of her neck, both of hers tightly fisted his shirt and their mouths pressed against each other. She opened her mouth under his instantly and he wasted no time and matched her fervor with his own. Christine thought she'd catch on fire from the heat that was flaring up between them.
His hand pressed her lower body to his and then moved up under her recently appropriated shirt. She gasped into his mouth at the feel of his warm palm on her back.
"I want you," she said harshly against his mouth. "I want you, I want you, I want you."
McCoy pulled his head back and met her eyes. "Damn it, woman, don't you know you have me?"
Christine smiled for the first time that night and felt the last remnants of cold evaporate from her body and mind.
"I want to go to bed, McCoy," she said firmly.
"Only if you take me with you," he growled. His mouth descended onto hers and she pressed her body closer to him, drinking him in. Her hands clutched at his hair as his slipped down to curl under her thighs and she gave a slight hop as he pulled her up. Her legs automatically wrapped around his hips as she continued to kiss him.
He took three unsteady steps and they fell onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, breathless and wanting more and more and more.
It wasn't long until Christine was warmed completely from head to toe.
“Right there.”
“There?”
“Mmm hmm.”
“That is pretty tight.”
“Told you. Ow!”
“What? Sorry. Damn it, Chapel. How is it that your feet are this filled with knots?”
“It’s where all my tension goes.”
Christine looked at McCoy from her reclined position against the headboard. She was wonderfully naked as was he, with the soft duvet covering them both. He was propped up at the foot of the bed with her right foot in his hands while he slowly massaged it. His forehead was creased in the way it tended to be when he was faced with a problem and he was determined to fix it. She sighed. She really didn’t care if it meant he was going to slowly massage away the tension that resided in her feet.
His thumb found a persistent knot on the ball of her foot and she winced at the initial ache and then relaxed as it was soothed out and away with firm, determined strokes.
She studied his face and marveled at the way the sex had only served to relax them both. She’d want him again shortly, she was sure of it. The hum of her body had died down from the fever pitch his hands and mouth had brought her to again and again. But it was still there. On a low frequency, but still very, very much there.
“So,” he said.
“So.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Pretty god damn spectacular, doctor,” she said raising her arms above her head and stretching. “How about you?”
He chuckled and didn't hide his appreciative look at the way her body moved. “I’m feeling pretty god damn spectacular myself.”
Christine grinned, feeling sexy and languid. McCoy looked up at her and matched her grin. She closed her eyes and focused on the sensation of his firm hands on her foot. She was actually close to dozing when he asked, “Are we still not talking about what the heck was up the other night?”
Oh. Right. That. Christine opened her eyes and bit her lip. Talk about killing a mood, but she had to tell him about returning to Earth. She opened her mouth to speak, but he beat her to it.
“It wouldn’t, by any chance, have anything to do with Starfleet Medical bugging you about returning to finish your doctorate?” McCoy asked.
Christine whipped her head up so fast her vision swam. “How on earth do you know about that?”
“Well, contrary to popular opinion, I am your commanding officer,” he said rubbing at a stubborn knot in her instep. “Starfleet is obligated to tell me about my head nurse needing to return to Earth for a sustained period of time.”
Christine blinked and said nothing. How utterly typical. All that worry and he already knew? She was torn between feeling relieved and annoyed.
He stopped rubbing her foot and frowned. “Was that seriously it? That’s what freaked you out? The fact that you’re about to finish your doctorate?”
“It’s not the fact that I’m about to finish my doctorate, Len,” she said. “It’s the fact that I’ll have to go back. For a year. At least.”
“Oh,” he said. He pursed his lips thoughtfully.
“Oh,” she echoed. He resumed massaging her foot. “That one’s good. Do this one.” She offered up her left foot.
“Bossy.”
“You love it.”
“I do,” he said looking her in the eyes. “I really, really do.”
Oh. Well. That changed… absolutely nothing and everything.
Christine held his gaze for awhile and then smiled as she sank back into the pillows, feeling giddy. He chuckled and focused on her foot.
"Why didn’t you want to tell me?" he asked.
"It's not that I didn't want to tell you," she said. "I just didn't want to tell you."
He gave her another look. "Right. You're speaking Standard, but I have no idea what you're saying."
Christine sighed and covered her face with her hands. "Roger asked me to wait. He was going off on his big quest and he asked me to wait. It was unfair and presumed far too much and I headed straight to enlist with Starfleet the day after. I didn't want to have to do that to you. Make you wait."
McCoy stopped her by enfolding her foot in both of his hands and pressing it to his chest, right above his heart.
"Christine Chapel, am I Roger Korby?" he asked, his voice stern and his brow furrowed.
"No," she said.
"Do you want your doctorate?"
"Yes."
"Do you plan to come back to work on the Enterprise when you've finished?"
"Yes."
"Do you love me?"
Christine bit her lip and then said, "So much that it makes me crazy."
McCoy's cheeks flushed a little but he went on. "Do you believe that I love you?"
"Yes."
"Good. Let's double check this," he said. He held up her left foot and started to list items using her toes. "One – I am not Roger Korby. Two – you want your doctorate. Three – You want to come back to the Enterprise. Four – You love me. Five – I love you."
She fought the urge to giggle and lost. "Okay. So what does all this add up to then, Doctor McCoy?" She wiggled her toes and he pressed a kiss to her arch.
"That I am not some asshole who only wants you to make him look good while he takes all the credit," he said, his eyes dark and his voice strong and certain. "That I want you to go back and get that doctorate and work in my sickbay and challenge me in every way possible. That I love you more than I can say and I know that we are going to fight this every step of the way, but god damn it, Christine, this is going to be worth it."
Christine felt like she was underwater again. But this time the water was warm and inviting and made her body hum in all the right places.
"Okay," she said.
He arched a brow. "Okay? I pour myself out to you and all I get is an 'okay'?"
She smirked. "No. You get more than an 'okay'." She withdrew her foot from his oh, so capable hands and sat up, the duvet falling away to reveal her naked chest. To his credit his eyes stayed fixed on hers. Christine bent forward and then slowly crawled across the duvet to him. She put a hand on his chest and pushed gently. He lay down on his back and she straddled his hips. His hands came to her waist as he gazed up at her.
"You get all of me, McCoy," she said before leaning down and covering his mouth with hers.
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