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seren_ccdTitle: You’re My Picture on the Wall
Fandom: Star Trek 2009
Ship: Christine Chapel/Leonard McCoy
Beta: The brilliant![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fringedweller
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 4,419
Warning: mild language
Disclaimer: They are not mine. The title is from Belle & Sebastian’s Funny Little Frog.
Prompt: I'd like to see a slow build up to a romance. Christine, or Lenard, is extremely gun shy (for whatever reason) and wants to take the romance slow. I'd love to see a slow courtship eventually building up to sexy times, but absolutely enjoying that journey to get there.
Summary: How Christine Chapel and Leonard McCoy got together: a romance. Sort of. Well. It’s a romance by the Enterprise’s standards. Forsleepygoof8784, as part of the ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
mccoy_chapel Fic Exchange. I hope you like it!
The following story is not a romance.
Well.
It is about those tiny moments that make up a relationship. Those moments where you find yourself in complete sync with another person and when you add all those moments up, you realize that those moments weren’t just moments after all. They were steps that eventually led to this something that you knew was missing but had no name for.
In other words:
This is how Christine Chapel met, worked with, and totally fell for Leonard McCoy.
Boston
Christine had absolutely no regrets in regards to breaking off her engagement with Roger Korby.
None.
She poured herself another glass of wine.
Where was she?
Oh, right.
Regrets = None.
He was pompous, he was self-righteous, he was terrible in bed and worst of all: he belittled her and her profession.
She glared at the wine bottle.
No one belittles a Chapel. Damn it.
She took a large gulp of wine.
And signing up with Starfleet was not a rash decision. It made sense. It was going to give her exactly what she wanted, which was a chance to experience something structured, interesting and new.
She raised her glass.
“Here’s to you, Christine,” she said out loud to her almost empty apartment. “Here’s to you for going for what you want and getting rid of that jerk.” She took a drink. “Now, all you have to do is get through the Academy and find a good place on an expedition.” She took another drink. “Oh! And no more relationships! They’re far more trouble than they’re worth.”
She nodded to herself.
Yep.
Piece of cake.
Starfleet Academy
The first thing Christine heard McCoy say was something along the lines of: “What an idiot.”
This was not directed towards her, but towards their Emergency Medicine instructor at Starfleet Academy. The instructor was attempting to explain the, as he called them, ‘rules’ of dealing with an emergency situation and clearly the man had never been involved with an emergency situation in his life. It was also clear that he was more interested in research rather than trauma medicine. Which surprised Christine quite a bit. All her other professors had seemed knowledgeable and brilliant in their fields. This guy…maybe he was in the wrong room?
But Christine was hardly going to say so out loud. She hadn’t been raised in a barn, thank you.
However, the surly, handsome man sitting next to her clearly had no problem expressing his inner thoughts.
So, Christine spent the first half hour of her class fighting the urge to snicker at the instructor’s futile attempts to explain emergency medicine and her seatmate’s running commentary.
Then the instructor said something truly moronic and Christine couldn’t help herself.
“Oh, please,” dripped derisively from her lips at the same time as her seatmate.
They looked at each other first in surprise, then in camaraderie.
He held his hand out to her below the seat back of the chair in front of them. “Leonard McCoy. Doctor Leonard McCoy. Formerly of Atlanta Medical Regional.”
Christine raised her eyebrows in appreciation and shook his hand. “Christine Chapel. Nurse Christine Chapel. Formerly of Boston Medical Trauma and Research.”
“Prestigious facility.”
“So’s yours.”
“Is it just me or has this guy never been in an emergency before?”
“It’s not just you. I think either he’s in the wrong classroom or we are.”
McCoy grinned at her and she grinned back and felt a nice, healthy bolt of attraction surge through her mid-section.
“Feel like getting a coffee and ripping this guy’s syllabus to shreds afterwards?” he asked.
“I’d be delighted.”
And that was kind of that.
They went for that coffee where Christine was introduced to McCoy’s friend, Jim; McCoy introducing her in the nicest way possible.
“Jim, this is Nurse Christine Chapel,” he said. “Formerly of Boston Medical Trauma and Research. A fellow wiseass and,” here he squinted at her, “I imagine she possesses an extremely steady pair of hands.”
“She does,” Christine said not bothering to hide a smirk.
“Nice,” Jim said with a smile. “And clearly, I should have gone into medicine, because that sounded suspiciously dirty.”
Christine laughed and McCoy rolled his eyes.
(And in case you were wondering, the professor had been filling in for their real professor who was decidedly not an idiot and ended up being one of Christine’s favorite instructors.)
The Narada Incident
“Dr. Puri is dead,” Christine said breathlessly.
McCoy snapped his head up from the ensign he was helping and she watched him rake his eyes over her looking for injuries.
She shook her head when his gaze landed on the scrape along her forearm. “It’s superficial. Did you hear me? Dr. Puri—“
“I heard you,” he said. He looked away at the chaos that was the auxiliary sickbay. “Damn it.”
“You’re in charge now,” she told him.
He hesitated and then nodded and met her eyes. She hoped that some of his steely resolve transferred to her. “So are you. Get them organized. And keep breathing, Chapel.”
“You too, Doctor.”
Surprisingly, they did.
Later, when it was all over and she was offered a position onboard as Head Nurse, she said ‘Yes’ almost immediately.
Deep Space Station K7
Christine cocked a brow at the tiny balls of fur on the table in Rec Room Seven.
“Wow.”
“I know!”
“They’re…furry.”
“And soft! Hold one, Christine.” Uhura thrust a Tribble into Christine’s hands.
Gingerly, Christine cradled the creature in her palm. Then she giggled and held it up to her ear. “Aww. Listen to him. Or her.”
“Sweet, aren’t they?” Uhura smiled.
Christine cuddled the Tribble and smiled as it trilled. She sighed.
“I forgot how nice it was to…” She stopped and rubbed her forehead against the Tribble.
“Have a cuddle with something?” Uhura asked far too knowingly.
Christine stuck her tongue out at her and continued to hold the Tribble.
She carried it into sickbay with her and McCoy had groaned.
“Ah, hell, not you too?” he asked.
“What? They’re cute.” She scratched the top of the Tribble.
“They’re breeding like crazy,” McCoy said holding up a large glass container filled with Tribbles. “It’s not sustainable. Put your new little friend down and help me out here.”
Christine rolled her eyes but did as he asked, experiencing a momentary pang of regret when she put the Tribble down.
They started the battery of tests that McCoy wanted to run and every time she snuggled a Tribble he glared at her. She rolled her eyes.
“I know, I know,” she said putting the larger Tribble down. “Uhura said that it’s indicative of desperately needing a good cuddle.”
McCoy looked up at her in disgust.
“What?” she asked with a laugh. “What’s with the face?”
“Just…don’t ever use the words ‘Uhura’ and ‘cuddle’ in the same sentence,” he said. “Ever. It makes me think of Spock and…cuddling, so just… Don’t.”
“You’re ridiculous,” she said shaking her head. “I bet he’s a lovely cuddler.”
“Ugh! Chapel! Stop it!”
“Wimp.”
“Minx.”
They continued to run tests and document their findings until McCoy eventually said, “Just because you like the Tribbles doesn’t mean you’re in desperate need of affection. It could just mean you like the little rodents.”
“I thought we discovered that they weren’t rodents?”
“Chapel.”
“Kidding,” she said. “And yes. Thank you. I am self-possessed enough to know that I’m not desperate for anything.”
“Oh.” He soundly oddly disappointed. “Good.”
Christine decidedly didn’t think about how his disappointment dovetailed with her…whatever she was feeling. She did pick up another Tribble though.
Of course, by the time the seven thousandth Tribble was born, the charm was gone; but still… It had been nice to, as Uhura had put it, have a cuddle with something.
Exo III
Christine sat on the edge of her bed, still in her mussed up and singed uniform, and stared at her hands. Hands that not three hours ago, held a phaser and shot her ex-fiancé in the heart.
Well.
Heart may have been stretching it.
Was it murder if the person you killed was actually not human and was, in fact, a robot?
The official report Kirk and Spock shared with her called it self-defense.
Christine didn’t know what to call it.
Running into Roger had been…chance. Pure chance. She honestly hadn’t been looking for him. When her sister had sent her the news that his expedition had gone missing, at the time, she’d felt a pang of regret and sent out a brief thought that he’d be found and be safe. But, she hadn’t done anything past that.
It just…hadn’t occurred to her.
Her hands looked too clean, she thought as she stared at them. Shouldn’t they leave a big red handprint on everything she touched?
“Well, that was morbid,” she said out loud, startling herself as her voice echoed slightly in her empty room. She sighed, then said out loud, “I don’t know how to feel about this.”
Her empty room declined to comment.
But, the chime to her door chimed.
Christine cringed. She loved the girls, but she didn’t think this counted as a good post-break-up chocolate/braiding each other’s hair session. But, her momma raised her right, so she got up to answer the chime.
It wasn’t the girls.
It was…well, not worse.
It was McCoy.
Who just stood there, with his hands behind his back, looking at her.
She’d only seen him briefly when they beamed back up as he’d immediately headed to see to Jim’s injuries while she was whisked off to Spock’s office. He’d still managed to give her a onceover that said they’d be speaking later.
Which appeared to be now.
“If I ask you nicely to go away, will you?” she asked not bothering to hide her still shaking hands and strained voice.
“Nope,” he said shaking his head once.
“What about if I just say ‘go away’?”
“Nope.”
“How about if I order you?” she tried one last time.
“I outrank you,” he said far too drily.
Christine sighed and said, “Fine. But that better be the good stuff behind your back.”
He held out a bottle of whiskey. The real stuff, not the paint thinner Scotty created down in engineering.
She let him in. She also let him pour the first glass. Her whiskey in hand, she returned to her seat on the edge of her bed, while he sat in her desk chair.
“Cheers, I guess,” she said holding up her glass.
“Cheers, Chapel,” he said, his eyes never once leaving her face.
Christine took a small sip, but savored it, letting the whiskey smolder on her tongue. Then she swallowed and gasped.
“Damn, that is the good stuff,” she said. “I’m impressed.”
“You should be,” he said, “I won’t be so crass as to actually tell you what I paid for it.”
She chuckled. “But you’ll be crass about Ensign Wilmott’s rash?”
“Not even close to comparable, Chapel,” he said, the corners of his lips curving upwards.
Christine laughed and then caught her breath on what felt suspiciously like a sob. “Oh, damn, McCoy. I slept with the man. I shared his bed. I was going to marry him, join my life to his. What the hell happened today?”
“You did what you had to, to save your life and the captain’s,” McCoy said maddeningly calm. “You had no other choice.”
“Really?” she asked. “That’s it? It’s that simple?”
“Hell no, it’s not that simple,” McCoy said scowling. “You do know that I’ve already signed you up for a full six weeks of counseling and you’re on half shifts for the next four days?”
“Damn it, Leonard,” Christine said her hand clenching her glass tightly.
“Don’t even think about welching on either of those,” he said pointing a finger at her. “Gaila, Uhura and Janice Rand are on my side.”
“Traitors,” she mumbled into her whiskey.
They sat in silence for a few minutes as they sipped their drinks. Then McCoy said, “I’m sorry, Chapel. I’m so sorry you had to go through all of that. I really am.”
“You’re the first person to say that, you know,” she said softly. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
She stared down at her drink, tilting the glass back and forth, watching the liquid move from side to side. Then she chuckled.
“What?”
“I find myself saying this more and more often,” she said, “but thank heavens for Jim Kirk. If he hadn’t switched into captain mode with Roger and been so, I don’t know, authoritative – which he has down, by the way – I would have been done for. I was in shock most of the time.”
“Except when it counted,” McCoy pointed out. “And you know Jim’s beyond grateful.”
“Yeah, I know,” she said. She slumped a little. Then turned and not even caring that she was probably flashing her best friend and superior, she crawled towards the head of her bed. Once she got there, she propped her pillow against the wall and sat down, leaning against it.
McCoy just watched her with that eyebrow of his arched.
Christine primly tugged down her skirt and crossed her ankles. He chuckled.
“Get over here, McCoy,” she said patting the space next to her. “And bring the bottle.”
Never let it be said Leonard McCoy couldn’t follow orders. The bed dipped when he sat down and Christine told herself the only reason it felt so good to have him close to her was due to stress and the whiskey.
He re-filled her glass and then his. They clinked their glasses together before drinking.
“What will you do?” he asked after a few minutes of thoughtful drinking.
“Swear off men totally? See if there are any convents still around and join up?” she offered.
“Stop being melodramatic,” he said after snorting in disbelief.
“McCoy, my ex-fiancé turned himself into a robot and really wanted to do the same to me and your best friend,” Christine said. “If ever there was an appropriate time for melodrama, it would be today.”
“Point taken,” he conceded raising his glass to her. “But, honestly, what will you do?”
“If you’re asking if I’m going to leave the Enterprise, I’m not,” she said quietly.
“No?”
“No,” she said shaking her head. “This is my home. I’m not leaving her.”
“Good,” he said brusquely. “I’d hate to have to break in a new head nurse.”
“Please,” Christine said elbowing his side. “I’ve almost got you fully trained. I’m not about to give up on all that very, very hard work.”
“Harridan.”
“Jerk.”
But she leaned into him and rested her head on his shoulder.
Pyris VII
Christine hesitated before going into McCoy’s office. But then she squared her shoulders and went inside.
He sat behind his desk with his hands loose in his lap and his shoulders hunched forward.
“Neither Mr. Sulu nor Mr. Scott had any irregularities show up in their brain scans,” she said quietly. “Neither did you, for that matter.”
“I figured as much.” She winced at how raw his voice sounded.
“Len…” Christine broke off. She didn’t really know what to say. ‘Sorry that you had your will stripped away from you and you had to shackle your best friend to a wall in a dungeon’?
“I was screaming, Chris,” he said after a few minutes. “In my head. I was hollering and yelling and screaming and I still couldn’t throw it off.”
Christine walked around his desk to grab his hand. “Oh, Len.”
“It hurt, Chris. It really fucking hurt,” he said. His hand tightened around hers.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “Len, I’m so sorry. You do know that there was nothing you could have done? Please tell me you know that?”
“Oh, I know it,” he said. “Doesn’t mean I like it, though.”
“I know,” she said letting her thumb smooth over the back of his knuckles. Her breath caught as he raised her hand and held it to his lips. Not in a kiss, just in a hold, pressed tightly as he breathed in and out. She shivered as his breath ghosted over her skin. He lifted his eyes to hers and they held.
A corner of his mouth quirked up and he let her hand go.
“Thanks, Chapel,” he said. “That’ll be all.”
“Will it?” she asked, not quite breathlessly.
Something flashed in his eyes, but he covered it up with a cough and quick nod.
She nodded back and practically fled from the room.
The rest of the day, her hand tingled.
Risa XII
Christine threw her head back and laughed as she watched Gaila drag Scotty through a very complicated tango on the dance floor. The poor engineer’s feet were just not keeping up but he more than made up for it in enthusiasm.
“That looks painful.”
She tilted her head back and grinned. “Gaila assures me it isn’t and that he’ll be feeling no pain later.”
McCoy arched that eyebrow of his and said, “Right. And I’m sure he won’t come limping into sickbay a few hours from now begging for an anti-inflammatory.”
“Please,” Christine said. “Like Gaila’s going to let him up for air for the next twenty-four hours of leave.”
McCoy looked thoughtful and then nodded. “Good point.” He eyed her neon pink drink. “That looks disgusting.”
“It’s yummy,” she said taking a sip.
“Yummy?”
“Yep.” She licked her lips tasting the fruit. “Yummy.”
She opened her mouth to say something else but noticed that McCoy’s eyes hadn’t left her lips and she felt very aware of every inch of her skin.
He raised his eyes to hers and she swallowed hard, really not sure what to do with all the lust that had just invaded her body.
Someone brushed past them and Christine, with a sharp gasp, stumbled into McCoy. His hands automatically went to her waist and kept her upright. She looked up. He huffed out a quiet laugh.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi,” she whispered back.
His hands were warm and steady on her waist and she wanted to lean in and she wanted, she wanted…
“McCoy! I think Chekov’s beaten your record! Get over here!”
Christine straightened immediately and laughed nervously. “Hear that? Chekov’s out-drinking you.”
“I’m not surprised,” he said. His hands fell away from her waist. “You, ah, steady there?”
“Oh, yeah,” she said nodding a bit manically. “As a rock. Thanks. Go defend your reputation.”
He gave her a crooked grin that did not make her stomach clench. “See you back onboard, Chapel.”
“Yep!” She made her way to a table nearby, sat down, and watched him walk away.
A few minutes later, Janice sat down across from her and followed her line of sight. “McCoy’s got a nice ass,” she said.
“Yeah,” Christine said dazedly. “He does.
“You say that like it’s news to you,” Janice said.
“Well, I always knew he was attractive,” Christine said. She waved her hand. “In an academic sense. But…”
“But…?”
Christine sighed. “He’s really kinda hot, isn’t he?”
Janice snickered. “Yep. What are going to do about it?”
“Nothing?” Christine felt weird. She blamed it on the alcohol and not on the fact that she had just been smacked in the face with the knowledge that she was really attracted to her best friend and superior.
“Fair enough.” Janice said with a nod. Then she slid her unfinished pink yet wonderfully alcoholic drink over to Christine, who took it and drained it.
In Orbit above Gamma VIII
Christine watched as Captain Kirk joked with McCoy. She felt the all too familiar burn of tears in her throat when McCoy could only manage a weak smile and miniscule nod. His eyes closed and she knew that was her cue.
“Sorry, Jim,” she said stepping up to McCoy’s biobed. “Visiting hours are over.”
“Thanks, Christine,” Jim said giving her a smile. “I’ll be back tomorrow. I may even bring my chess board.”
“Please no,” McCoy rasped. “Anything but that.”
“Just you wait, Bones,” Jim said. “I’ll get you hooked on the game, yet.”
McCoy just grinned slightly and Christine blinked furiously. Jim met her eyes and gave her a nod. Then he was gone.
Christine busied herself by checking McCoy’s vitals and making sure he was receiving the proper dosage of anti-viral solution. She stopped when his hand covered hers.
She looked down in surprise.
“Sit down, Chapel,” he said quietly. “You don’t need to say anything, just sit down for awhile.”
She nodded and did as he asked. She turned her hand around and held onto his. She kept hold long after he fell into a fitful sleep.
When he was fully recovered four days later and back to his irascible self, she wondered if she had let an opportunity pass her by.
Freeon Delta IV
Christine shivered and pressed even closer to McCoy, who tightened his arms around her.
“I’d say this was typical,” McCoy said through gritted teeth into the top of her head. “But I said that about the Klingon attack last week. And I know you know how I feel about repeating myself.”
“I know,” Christine said rubbing her face against his coat. “Although, freezing to death had always seemed so commonplace. You know, too boring for an Enterprise crew member.”
“Yeah.”
They sat curled up in each other for a few quiet moments, listening to raging snowstorm just outside their makeshift shelter.
McCoy sighed. “I can’t feel my toes.”
“Neither can I,” Christine said. “We’ll be lucky to get out of this with all our limbs intact.”
“I’m afraid we’ll be lucky to get out of this at all,” McCoy said. “Christine…”
“Oh, dear. Have we come to the sharing of deep secrets part of our adventure?” she asked only half-joking.
“’Fraid so,” he said. “Chapel, I’m crazy about you. Totally mad. Bonkers, even.”
“Sounds terrible,” she said lifting her eyes to meet his. “Perhaps you should see a doctor.”
“Cute,” he said.
“Well, if we have come to the sharing of secrets, I suppose I should tell you that I’m pretty gone over you, too,” she said tucking her face into the space between his neck and shoulder.
“Damn, woman, your nose is like ice,” he said with a shudder.
“Wow. I always wondered what your sweet nothings would sound like,” she said chuckling.
“Oh, darlin’, I’ll show you sweet nothings,” McCoy said right next to her ear. “When I can feel the lower half of my body.”
“Deal,” Christine said lifting her head and pressing her lips to his.
It wasn’t, by definition, a very good kiss. Their lips were chapped and they were shivering so hard, she was surprised no one got their tongues bit. But, it was honest and real and when she got actual sensation back into her extremities, she had a feeling her toes would curl.
Several hours later, after the Enterprise had finally found them and beamed them up to sickbay, and after they’d been warmed up and hyposprayed to within an inch of their lives, Christine opened her door to McCoy who, unsurprisingly, looked grumpy.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I finally got to see you naked and it was during a hypothermia treatment,” he said.
She frowned. “That wasn’t the only time you got to see me naked.”
“Yeah, but the other time was during a ship-wide decontamination exercise,” he said. “That doesn’t count.”
“McCoy?” she said.
“Yeah?”
“Get in here, rip my clothes off and make it count,” she said.
He grinned and stepped forward.
Their lips met in a kiss that was much improved on from their earlier one. For one thing, their lips were no longer chapped and the only shivering Christine suffered from was more from the feel of McCoy’s hands as they travelled up the length of her back and then down her sides.
“I’m so fucking crazy about you,” he murmured into her skin before kissing her neck. “Have been since I met you.”
“You – oh, right there – hid it well,” she said pulling his shirt up, out of his trousers and off of him, then running her hands over his chest.
“Well, I wasn’t about to go throwing myself at you,” he said as his hands slid up under her shirt and cupped her breasts. “It wasn’t professional.”
She gasped when he ripped her shirt open and covered her left nipple with his mouth. After suckling gently for a lovely few moments, he lifted his head. “Besides, you remember how much of a mess I was when I met you. I wasn’t about to start something which I knew had the potential to be incredible.”
Christine smiled. “How romantically practical you are.”
“Like you’re not,” he retorted. Christine shrugged then grinned when the motion drew his eyes back to her chest. Then he lowered his head and suckled at her other breast and Christine decided to stop thinking and undid his trousers.
Afterwards, as they lay on Christine’s bed in a wonderfully sweaty sprawl, his head pillowed on her stomach, she asked, “Do you think we would have said anything if we hadn’t gotten stuck in that snowstorm?”
“Probably,” he said pressing a kiss to just above her navel. “I mean, it probably still would have come out during a life or death situation, but those happen weekly around here.”
“I almost told you a month ago,” she said running her hand through his hair.
He turned his head to look at her. “When?”
“When you were in sickbay recovering from that Andorian Flu.”
“Hunh.” He frowned. “I almost told you during that Klingon attack two months ago.”
“Really? Wow.” She looked up at the ceiling but continued to massage his scalp.
“Should I have wooed you?” he asked after a few minutes.
“Wooed me?” she repeated.
“You know.” He shrugged. “Dated you. Courted you. Romanced you.”
Christine smiled and tugged at his hair until he rose up to meet her eyes. Then she leaned in and kissed him, hard and slow and dirty.
Eventually, she pulled back and said, “Who needs romance when you’ve got life on the Enterprise?”
Fandom: Star Trek 2009
Ship: Christine Chapel/Leonard McCoy
Beta: The brilliant
fringedwellerRating: PG-13
Word Count: 4,419
Warning: mild language
Disclaimer: They are not mine. The title is from Belle & Sebastian’s Funny Little Frog.
Prompt: I'd like to see a slow build up to a romance. Christine, or Lenard, is extremely gun shy (for whatever reason) and wants to take the romance slow. I'd love to see a slow courtship eventually building up to sexy times, but absolutely enjoying that journey to get there.
Summary: How Christine Chapel and Leonard McCoy got together: a romance. Sort of. Well. It’s a romance by the Enterprise’s standards. For
sleepygoof8784, as part of the mccoy_chapel Fic Exchange. I hope you like it! The following story is not a romance.
Well.
It is about those tiny moments that make up a relationship. Those moments where you find yourself in complete sync with another person and when you add all those moments up, you realize that those moments weren’t just moments after all. They were steps that eventually led to this something that you knew was missing but had no name for.
In other words:
This is how Christine Chapel met, worked with, and totally fell for Leonard McCoy.
Boston
Christine had absolutely no regrets in regards to breaking off her engagement with Roger Korby.
None.
She poured herself another glass of wine.
Where was she?
Oh, right.
Regrets = None.
He was pompous, he was self-righteous, he was terrible in bed and worst of all: he belittled her and her profession.
She glared at the wine bottle.
No one belittles a Chapel. Damn it.
She took a large gulp of wine.
And signing up with Starfleet was not a rash decision. It made sense. It was going to give her exactly what she wanted, which was a chance to experience something structured, interesting and new.
She raised her glass.
“Here’s to you, Christine,” she said out loud to her almost empty apartment. “Here’s to you for going for what you want and getting rid of that jerk.” She took a drink. “Now, all you have to do is get through the Academy and find a good place on an expedition.” She took another drink. “Oh! And no more relationships! They’re far more trouble than they’re worth.”
She nodded to herself.
Yep.
Piece of cake.
Starfleet Academy
The first thing Christine heard McCoy say was something along the lines of: “What an idiot.”
This was not directed towards her, but towards their Emergency Medicine instructor at Starfleet Academy. The instructor was attempting to explain the, as he called them, ‘rules’ of dealing with an emergency situation and clearly the man had never been involved with an emergency situation in his life. It was also clear that he was more interested in research rather than trauma medicine. Which surprised Christine quite a bit. All her other professors had seemed knowledgeable and brilliant in their fields. This guy…maybe he was in the wrong room?
But Christine was hardly going to say so out loud. She hadn’t been raised in a barn, thank you.
However, the surly, handsome man sitting next to her clearly had no problem expressing his inner thoughts.
So, Christine spent the first half hour of her class fighting the urge to snicker at the instructor’s futile attempts to explain emergency medicine and her seatmate’s running commentary.
Then the instructor said something truly moronic and Christine couldn’t help herself.
“Oh, please,” dripped derisively from her lips at the same time as her seatmate.
They looked at each other first in surprise, then in camaraderie.
He held his hand out to her below the seat back of the chair in front of them. “Leonard McCoy. Doctor Leonard McCoy. Formerly of Atlanta Medical Regional.”
Christine raised her eyebrows in appreciation and shook his hand. “Christine Chapel. Nurse Christine Chapel. Formerly of Boston Medical Trauma and Research.”
“Prestigious facility.”
“So’s yours.”
“Is it just me or has this guy never been in an emergency before?”
“It’s not just you. I think either he’s in the wrong classroom or we are.”
McCoy grinned at her and she grinned back and felt a nice, healthy bolt of attraction surge through her mid-section.
“Feel like getting a coffee and ripping this guy’s syllabus to shreds afterwards?” he asked.
“I’d be delighted.”
And that was kind of that.
They went for that coffee where Christine was introduced to McCoy’s friend, Jim; McCoy introducing her in the nicest way possible.
“Jim, this is Nurse Christine Chapel,” he said. “Formerly of Boston Medical Trauma and Research. A fellow wiseass and,” here he squinted at her, “I imagine she possesses an extremely steady pair of hands.”
“She does,” Christine said not bothering to hide a smirk.
“Nice,” Jim said with a smile. “And clearly, I should have gone into medicine, because that sounded suspiciously dirty.”
Christine laughed and McCoy rolled his eyes.
(And in case you were wondering, the professor had been filling in for their real professor who was decidedly not an idiot and ended up being one of Christine’s favorite instructors.)
The Narada Incident
“Dr. Puri is dead,” Christine said breathlessly.
McCoy snapped his head up from the ensign he was helping and she watched him rake his eyes over her looking for injuries.
She shook her head when his gaze landed on the scrape along her forearm. “It’s superficial. Did you hear me? Dr. Puri—“
“I heard you,” he said. He looked away at the chaos that was the auxiliary sickbay. “Damn it.”
“You’re in charge now,” she told him.
He hesitated and then nodded and met her eyes. She hoped that some of his steely resolve transferred to her. “So are you. Get them organized. And keep breathing, Chapel.”
“You too, Doctor.”
Surprisingly, they did.
Later, when it was all over and she was offered a position onboard as Head Nurse, she said ‘Yes’ almost immediately.
Deep Space Station K7
Christine cocked a brow at the tiny balls of fur on the table in Rec Room Seven.
“Wow.”
“I know!”
“They’re…furry.”
“And soft! Hold one, Christine.” Uhura thrust a Tribble into Christine’s hands.
Gingerly, Christine cradled the creature in her palm. Then she giggled and held it up to her ear. “Aww. Listen to him. Or her.”
“Sweet, aren’t they?” Uhura smiled.
Christine cuddled the Tribble and smiled as it trilled. She sighed.
“I forgot how nice it was to…” She stopped and rubbed her forehead against the Tribble.
“Have a cuddle with something?” Uhura asked far too knowingly.
Christine stuck her tongue out at her and continued to hold the Tribble.
She carried it into sickbay with her and McCoy had groaned.
“Ah, hell, not you too?” he asked.
“What? They’re cute.” She scratched the top of the Tribble.
“They’re breeding like crazy,” McCoy said holding up a large glass container filled with Tribbles. “It’s not sustainable. Put your new little friend down and help me out here.”
Christine rolled her eyes but did as he asked, experiencing a momentary pang of regret when she put the Tribble down.
They started the battery of tests that McCoy wanted to run and every time she snuggled a Tribble he glared at her. She rolled her eyes.
“I know, I know,” she said putting the larger Tribble down. “Uhura said that it’s indicative of desperately needing a good cuddle.”
McCoy looked up at her in disgust.
“What?” she asked with a laugh. “What’s with the face?”
“Just…don’t ever use the words ‘Uhura’ and ‘cuddle’ in the same sentence,” he said. “Ever. It makes me think of Spock and…cuddling, so just… Don’t.”
“You’re ridiculous,” she said shaking her head. “I bet he’s a lovely cuddler.”
“Ugh! Chapel! Stop it!”
“Wimp.”
“Minx.”
They continued to run tests and document their findings until McCoy eventually said, “Just because you like the Tribbles doesn’t mean you’re in desperate need of affection. It could just mean you like the little rodents.”
“I thought we discovered that they weren’t rodents?”
“Chapel.”
“Kidding,” she said. “And yes. Thank you. I am self-possessed enough to know that I’m not desperate for anything.”
“Oh.” He soundly oddly disappointed. “Good.”
Christine decidedly didn’t think about how his disappointment dovetailed with her…whatever she was feeling. She did pick up another Tribble though.
Of course, by the time the seven thousandth Tribble was born, the charm was gone; but still… It had been nice to, as Uhura had put it, have a cuddle with something.
Exo III
Christine sat on the edge of her bed, still in her mussed up and singed uniform, and stared at her hands. Hands that not three hours ago, held a phaser and shot her ex-fiancé in the heart.
Well.
Heart may have been stretching it.
Was it murder if the person you killed was actually not human and was, in fact, a robot?
The official report Kirk and Spock shared with her called it self-defense.
Christine didn’t know what to call it.
Running into Roger had been…chance. Pure chance. She honestly hadn’t been looking for him. When her sister had sent her the news that his expedition had gone missing, at the time, she’d felt a pang of regret and sent out a brief thought that he’d be found and be safe. But, she hadn’t done anything past that.
It just…hadn’t occurred to her.
Her hands looked too clean, she thought as she stared at them. Shouldn’t they leave a big red handprint on everything she touched?
“Well, that was morbid,” she said out loud, startling herself as her voice echoed slightly in her empty room. She sighed, then said out loud, “I don’t know how to feel about this.”
Her empty room declined to comment.
But, the chime to her door chimed.
Christine cringed. She loved the girls, but she didn’t think this counted as a good post-break-up chocolate/braiding each other’s hair session. But, her momma raised her right, so she got up to answer the chime.
It wasn’t the girls.
It was…well, not worse.
It was McCoy.
Who just stood there, with his hands behind his back, looking at her.
She’d only seen him briefly when they beamed back up as he’d immediately headed to see to Jim’s injuries while she was whisked off to Spock’s office. He’d still managed to give her a onceover that said they’d be speaking later.
Which appeared to be now.
“If I ask you nicely to go away, will you?” she asked not bothering to hide her still shaking hands and strained voice.
“Nope,” he said shaking his head once.
“What about if I just say ‘go away’?”
“Nope.”
“How about if I order you?” she tried one last time.
“I outrank you,” he said far too drily.
Christine sighed and said, “Fine. But that better be the good stuff behind your back.”
He held out a bottle of whiskey. The real stuff, not the paint thinner Scotty created down in engineering.
She let him in. She also let him pour the first glass. Her whiskey in hand, she returned to her seat on the edge of her bed, while he sat in her desk chair.
“Cheers, I guess,” she said holding up her glass.
“Cheers, Chapel,” he said, his eyes never once leaving her face.
Christine took a small sip, but savored it, letting the whiskey smolder on her tongue. Then she swallowed and gasped.
“Damn, that is the good stuff,” she said. “I’m impressed.”
“You should be,” he said, “I won’t be so crass as to actually tell you what I paid for it.”
She chuckled. “But you’ll be crass about Ensign Wilmott’s rash?”
“Not even close to comparable, Chapel,” he said, the corners of his lips curving upwards.
Christine laughed and then caught her breath on what felt suspiciously like a sob. “Oh, damn, McCoy. I slept with the man. I shared his bed. I was going to marry him, join my life to his. What the hell happened today?”
“You did what you had to, to save your life and the captain’s,” McCoy said maddeningly calm. “You had no other choice.”
“Really?” she asked. “That’s it? It’s that simple?”
“Hell no, it’s not that simple,” McCoy said scowling. “You do know that I’ve already signed you up for a full six weeks of counseling and you’re on half shifts for the next four days?”
“Damn it, Leonard,” Christine said her hand clenching her glass tightly.
“Don’t even think about welching on either of those,” he said pointing a finger at her. “Gaila, Uhura and Janice Rand are on my side.”
“Traitors,” she mumbled into her whiskey.
They sat in silence for a few minutes as they sipped their drinks. Then McCoy said, “I’m sorry, Chapel. I’m so sorry you had to go through all of that. I really am.”
“You’re the first person to say that, you know,” she said softly. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
She stared down at her drink, tilting the glass back and forth, watching the liquid move from side to side. Then she chuckled.
“What?”
“I find myself saying this more and more often,” she said, “but thank heavens for Jim Kirk. If he hadn’t switched into captain mode with Roger and been so, I don’t know, authoritative – which he has down, by the way – I would have been done for. I was in shock most of the time.”
“Except when it counted,” McCoy pointed out. “And you know Jim’s beyond grateful.”
“Yeah, I know,” she said. She slumped a little. Then turned and not even caring that she was probably flashing her best friend and superior, she crawled towards the head of her bed. Once she got there, she propped her pillow against the wall and sat down, leaning against it.
McCoy just watched her with that eyebrow of his arched.
Christine primly tugged down her skirt and crossed her ankles. He chuckled.
“Get over here, McCoy,” she said patting the space next to her. “And bring the bottle.”
Never let it be said Leonard McCoy couldn’t follow orders. The bed dipped when he sat down and Christine told herself the only reason it felt so good to have him close to her was due to stress and the whiskey.
He re-filled her glass and then his. They clinked their glasses together before drinking.
“What will you do?” he asked after a few minutes of thoughtful drinking.
“Swear off men totally? See if there are any convents still around and join up?” she offered.
“Stop being melodramatic,” he said after snorting in disbelief.
“McCoy, my ex-fiancé turned himself into a robot and really wanted to do the same to me and your best friend,” Christine said. “If ever there was an appropriate time for melodrama, it would be today.”
“Point taken,” he conceded raising his glass to her. “But, honestly, what will you do?”
“If you’re asking if I’m going to leave the Enterprise, I’m not,” she said quietly.
“No?”
“No,” she said shaking her head. “This is my home. I’m not leaving her.”
“Good,” he said brusquely. “I’d hate to have to break in a new head nurse.”
“Please,” Christine said elbowing his side. “I’ve almost got you fully trained. I’m not about to give up on all that very, very hard work.”
“Harridan.”
“Jerk.”
But she leaned into him and rested her head on his shoulder.
Pyris VII
Christine hesitated before going into McCoy’s office. But then she squared her shoulders and went inside.
He sat behind his desk with his hands loose in his lap and his shoulders hunched forward.
“Neither Mr. Sulu nor Mr. Scott had any irregularities show up in their brain scans,” she said quietly. “Neither did you, for that matter.”
“I figured as much.” She winced at how raw his voice sounded.
“Len…” Christine broke off. She didn’t really know what to say. ‘Sorry that you had your will stripped away from you and you had to shackle your best friend to a wall in a dungeon’?
“I was screaming, Chris,” he said after a few minutes. “In my head. I was hollering and yelling and screaming and I still couldn’t throw it off.”
Christine walked around his desk to grab his hand. “Oh, Len.”
“It hurt, Chris. It really fucking hurt,” he said. His hand tightened around hers.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “Len, I’m so sorry. You do know that there was nothing you could have done? Please tell me you know that?”
“Oh, I know it,” he said. “Doesn’t mean I like it, though.”
“I know,” she said letting her thumb smooth over the back of his knuckles. Her breath caught as he raised her hand and held it to his lips. Not in a kiss, just in a hold, pressed tightly as he breathed in and out. She shivered as his breath ghosted over her skin. He lifted his eyes to hers and they held.
A corner of his mouth quirked up and he let her hand go.
“Thanks, Chapel,” he said. “That’ll be all.”
“Will it?” she asked, not quite breathlessly.
Something flashed in his eyes, but he covered it up with a cough and quick nod.
She nodded back and practically fled from the room.
The rest of the day, her hand tingled.
Risa XII
Christine threw her head back and laughed as she watched Gaila drag Scotty through a very complicated tango on the dance floor. The poor engineer’s feet were just not keeping up but he more than made up for it in enthusiasm.
“That looks painful.”
She tilted her head back and grinned. “Gaila assures me it isn’t and that he’ll be feeling no pain later.”
McCoy arched that eyebrow of his and said, “Right. And I’m sure he won’t come limping into sickbay a few hours from now begging for an anti-inflammatory.”
“Please,” Christine said. “Like Gaila’s going to let him up for air for the next twenty-four hours of leave.”
McCoy looked thoughtful and then nodded. “Good point.” He eyed her neon pink drink. “That looks disgusting.”
“It’s yummy,” she said taking a sip.
“Yummy?”
“Yep.” She licked her lips tasting the fruit. “Yummy.”
She opened her mouth to say something else but noticed that McCoy’s eyes hadn’t left her lips and she felt very aware of every inch of her skin.
He raised his eyes to hers and she swallowed hard, really not sure what to do with all the lust that had just invaded her body.
Someone brushed past them and Christine, with a sharp gasp, stumbled into McCoy. His hands automatically went to her waist and kept her upright. She looked up. He huffed out a quiet laugh.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi,” she whispered back.
His hands were warm and steady on her waist and she wanted to lean in and she wanted, she wanted…
“McCoy! I think Chekov’s beaten your record! Get over here!”
Christine straightened immediately and laughed nervously. “Hear that? Chekov’s out-drinking you.”
“I’m not surprised,” he said. His hands fell away from her waist. “You, ah, steady there?”
“Oh, yeah,” she said nodding a bit manically. “As a rock. Thanks. Go defend your reputation.”
He gave her a crooked grin that did not make her stomach clench. “See you back onboard, Chapel.”
“Yep!” She made her way to a table nearby, sat down, and watched him walk away.
A few minutes later, Janice sat down across from her and followed her line of sight. “McCoy’s got a nice ass,” she said.
“Yeah,” Christine said dazedly. “He does.
“You say that like it’s news to you,” Janice said.
“Well, I always knew he was attractive,” Christine said. She waved her hand. “In an academic sense. But…”
“But…?”
Christine sighed. “He’s really kinda hot, isn’t he?”
Janice snickered. “Yep. What are going to do about it?”
“Nothing?” Christine felt weird. She blamed it on the alcohol and not on the fact that she had just been smacked in the face with the knowledge that she was really attracted to her best friend and superior.
“Fair enough.” Janice said with a nod. Then she slid her unfinished pink yet wonderfully alcoholic drink over to Christine, who took it and drained it.
In Orbit above Gamma VIII
Christine watched as Captain Kirk joked with McCoy. She felt the all too familiar burn of tears in her throat when McCoy could only manage a weak smile and miniscule nod. His eyes closed and she knew that was her cue.
“Sorry, Jim,” she said stepping up to McCoy’s biobed. “Visiting hours are over.”
“Thanks, Christine,” Jim said giving her a smile. “I’ll be back tomorrow. I may even bring my chess board.”
“Please no,” McCoy rasped. “Anything but that.”
“Just you wait, Bones,” Jim said. “I’ll get you hooked on the game, yet.”
McCoy just grinned slightly and Christine blinked furiously. Jim met her eyes and gave her a nod. Then he was gone.
Christine busied herself by checking McCoy’s vitals and making sure he was receiving the proper dosage of anti-viral solution. She stopped when his hand covered hers.
She looked down in surprise.
“Sit down, Chapel,” he said quietly. “You don’t need to say anything, just sit down for awhile.”
She nodded and did as he asked. She turned her hand around and held onto his. She kept hold long after he fell into a fitful sleep.
When he was fully recovered four days later and back to his irascible self, she wondered if she had let an opportunity pass her by.
Freeon Delta IV
Christine shivered and pressed even closer to McCoy, who tightened his arms around her.
“I’d say this was typical,” McCoy said through gritted teeth into the top of her head. “But I said that about the Klingon attack last week. And I know you know how I feel about repeating myself.”
“I know,” Christine said rubbing her face against his coat. “Although, freezing to death had always seemed so commonplace. You know, too boring for an Enterprise crew member.”
“Yeah.”
They sat curled up in each other for a few quiet moments, listening to raging snowstorm just outside their makeshift shelter.
McCoy sighed. “I can’t feel my toes.”
“Neither can I,” Christine said. “We’ll be lucky to get out of this with all our limbs intact.”
“I’m afraid we’ll be lucky to get out of this at all,” McCoy said. “Christine…”
“Oh, dear. Have we come to the sharing of deep secrets part of our adventure?” she asked only half-joking.
“’Fraid so,” he said. “Chapel, I’m crazy about you. Totally mad. Bonkers, even.”
“Sounds terrible,” she said lifting her eyes to meet his. “Perhaps you should see a doctor.”
“Cute,” he said.
“Well, if we have come to the sharing of secrets, I suppose I should tell you that I’m pretty gone over you, too,” she said tucking her face into the space between his neck and shoulder.
“Damn, woman, your nose is like ice,” he said with a shudder.
“Wow. I always wondered what your sweet nothings would sound like,” she said chuckling.
“Oh, darlin’, I’ll show you sweet nothings,” McCoy said right next to her ear. “When I can feel the lower half of my body.”
“Deal,” Christine said lifting her head and pressing her lips to his.
It wasn’t, by definition, a very good kiss. Their lips were chapped and they were shivering so hard, she was surprised no one got their tongues bit. But, it was honest and real and when she got actual sensation back into her extremities, she had a feeling her toes would curl.
Several hours later, after the Enterprise had finally found them and beamed them up to sickbay, and after they’d been warmed up and hyposprayed to within an inch of their lives, Christine opened her door to McCoy who, unsurprisingly, looked grumpy.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I finally got to see you naked and it was during a hypothermia treatment,” he said.
She frowned. “That wasn’t the only time you got to see me naked.”
“Yeah, but the other time was during a ship-wide decontamination exercise,” he said. “That doesn’t count.”
“McCoy?” she said.
“Yeah?”
“Get in here, rip my clothes off and make it count,” she said.
He grinned and stepped forward.
Their lips met in a kiss that was much improved on from their earlier one. For one thing, their lips were no longer chapped and the only shivering Christine suffered from was more from the feel of McCoy’s hands as they travelled up the length of her back and then down her sides.
“I’m so fucking crazy about you,” he murmured into her skin before kissing her neck. “Have been since I met you.”
“You – oh, right there – hid it well,” she said pulling his shirt up, out of his trousers and off of him, then running her hands over his chest.
“Well, I wasn’t about to go throwing myself at you,” he said as his hands slid up under her shirt and cupped her breasts. “It wasn’t professional.”
She gasped when he ripped her shirt open and covered her left nipple with his mouth. After suckling gently for a lovely few moments, he lifted his head. “Besides, you remember how much of a mess I was when I met you. I wasn’t about to start something which I knew had the potential to be incredible.”
Christine smiled. “How romantically practical you are.”
“Like you’re not,” he retorted. Christine shrugged then grinned when the motion drew his eyes back to her chest. Then he lowered his head and suckled at her other breast and Christine decided to stop thinking and undid his trousers.
Afterwards, as they lay on Christine’s bed in a wonderfully sweaty sprawl, his head pillowed on her stomach, she asked, “Do you think we would have said anything if we hadn’t gotten stuck in that snowstorm?”
“Probably,” he said pressing a kiss to just above her navel. “I mean, it probably still would have come out during a life or death situation, but those happen weekly around here.”
“I almost told you a month ago,” she said running her hand through his hair.
He turned his head to look at her. “When?”
“When you were in sickbay recovering from that Andorian Flu.”
“Hunh.” He frowned. “I almost told you during that Klingon attack two months ago.”
“Really? Wow.” She looked up at the ceiling but continued to massage his scalp.
“Should I have wooed you?” he asked after a few minutes.
“Wooed me?” she repeated.
“You know.” He shrugged. “Dated you. Courted you. Romanced you.”
Christine smiled and tugged at his hair until he rose up to meet her eyes. Then she leaned in and kissed him, hard and slow and dirty.
Eventually, she pulled back and said, “Who needs romance when you’ve got life on the Enterprise?”
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Date: 2012-01-01 10:02 pm (UTC)And this line made me giggle: “I mean, it probably still would have come out during a life or death situation, but those happen weekly around here.”
So so VERY true!
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Date: 2012-01-02 03:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-01 10:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-02 03:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-02 11:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-02 03:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-06 12:35 am (UTC)So much goodness wrapped up in a neat little package. I love all the TOS echoes and how they might be different in this new universe :)
(sorry, stupidly behind on commenting... )