seren_ccd | Star Trek 2009 Fic: The Feeling of Being in Motion Again

Title: The Feeling of Being in Motion Again
Series: Going to Georgia
Pairing(s): McCoy/Chapel UST
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek. Someone else far cleverer than me does. The titles and excerpts are from Going to Georgia by the Mountain Goats.

A/N: A huge thank you to Kerichi for beta-ing this chapter. A massive thank you to everyone who has reviewed. I hope you like this chapter. It is actually the last chapter before an epilogue. I would love to know what you think! I'm having an utter ball with these characters, so I hope you enjoy them as much as I do!

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Two Outtake Chapter Three McCoy's Hands aka The Danger of Practicing Field Medicine This is the 'outtake' that started it all! It comes in between Chapter Three and Four.

Christine fought the urge to smooth the front of her uniform down. She uncrossed and re-crossed her ankles. The receptionist sitting at the desk just to the left of her smiled reassuringly. Christine tried to smile back, but was afraid it looked a bit strained.

She took a deep breath to calm and center herself and turned her gaze towards the window on the opposite side of the room. The afternoon sun was shining brightly. Christine could just see the faintest gleam of the bay in the distance.

She tried to focus on what exactly it was she was feeling, sitting in this particular office. She sifted through excited, anxious and settled on bewildered. She couldn't figure out why she had been asked to report to Captain Pike's office.

The semester had carried on in its own traditional way. Personally, she was doing fine. She'd gone out a few more times with Nyota and Gaila, thoroughly enjoying herself each time. She could actually call the other girls her closest friends by this point.

Academically, things couldn't be better. She was doing extremely well in all of her courses and was now looking into where she might intern for the summer. The field hospital in Boston had an exceptional program devoted to the study of endocrinology and she had already filled in the application. In the fall, she'd start her first official semester as a proper resident. She was both excited and intimidated.

The first time she'd expressed her apprehension to McCoy, he'd just looked at her and then told her that she was already a better doctor than half the staff at his old hospital and she could only get better. Her cheeks had burned with a flush of pleasure for an embarrassing amount of time afterwards.

Even now, she felt a glow of warmth. It was a welcome distraction from trying to maintain a composed expression when all she really wanted to do was ask questions.

Something chimed on the receptionist's desk. She stood up. "Lieutenant Chapel? The captain will see you now."

Christine breathed a tiny sigh of relief and walked through the door held open for her. The captain and another man waited inside the office. Captain Pike walked around his desk to greet her.

"Lieutenant Chapel. It's good to see you again," he said holding out his hand to shake hers.

She smiled in greeting. "Captain Pike. Good to see you, too, sir."

"I believe you know Doctor Puri." He indicated the other man in the room.

Dr. Puri stepped forward, a friendly smile on his round face, to shake her hand. "Lieutenant," he said. "Always good to see a former colleague."

Christine remembered the gentleman from her mission to the colony seven years ago. He had been one of the senior medical staff on board and she had genuinely liked working for him. Patient and professional, with an easygoing sense of humor, he'd managed to make the entire staff feel at ease even in the direst situations.

"Thank you, doctor. I had heard you were stateside again," she said, pleased to see him.

"Hopefully not for long," Dr. Puri said cheerfully.

"Please, take a seat, lieutenant," Captain Pike said. He led her away from his desk and towards a set of comfortable chairs in the corner of the office. Christine sat down on one and the doctor and the captain seated themselves in the others. They chatted for a few minutes about Dr. Puri's last trip in the outer rim of the Alpha Quadrant. Christine hoped her facial expressions were ones of interest and not violent curiosity.

Apparently, telepathy could be added to the captain's list of accomplishments, because he soon asked her, "You must be wondering why I've called you in."

"The thought crossed my mind, sir," she said.

"Well, it's very simple," he said. "Assignments went out this past week for the new armada. I've been given the USS Enterprise."

"Congratulations, sir," Christine said. "She's beautiful."

"She is indeed," Pike said with quiet pride. "I'm in the midst of selecting my personnel. Dr. Puri here has agreed to be my Chief Medical Officer."

Christine turned her gaze to Puri and said with a smile, "Congratulations, doctor."

The doctor beamed.

"He's been helping me to create a good medical staff. We've filled most of the positions, except for a few, including Head Nurse." Pike's gaze met Christine's in a significant look. "We'd like you to consider the position."

Christine felt her stomach lunge and her mind sputtered a little. "Sir... I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything. Yet," he said raising a finger. "I don't have to tell you that this is a significant position for you. Your abilities speak for themselves. I've had nothing but glowing reports from your former employers, including Dr. Puri here. The head nurse at your former hospital in Louisiana was especially complimentary about your skills in the trauma ward."

"But," she said looking down at her hands briefly and then back up to meet the captain's gaze. "I wasn't looking for a position. I know that as an officer, I would go wherever I was commanded--"

"But you are deeply invested in your current courses," he finished for her. "I do understand, lieutenant. I'll confess to being extremely selfish in this particular instance. I'd like a crew made up of the best. You're one of the best nurses Starfleet has seen graduate."

"Thank you, sir," Christine said quietly her mind beginning to whir through possibilities.

"Christine," Dr. Puri said. "I distinctly remember two things about you: your devotion to your patients and your drive to overcome challenges." He smiled and spread his hands out. "While becoming a doctor is a great challenge, serving on a five year mission on a starship is one of the greatest."

She nodded thinking over the doctor's words.

"However, this is your choice, lieutenant," Pike said. "I would understand if you choose to continue your studies, but I would ask that you at least consider it. Naturally, we hope you say 'yes.'"

He finished with a warm smile that Christine couldn't help but return.

"Thank you, sir," she said again. "Both of you. I'm truly honored to be given the chance to serve with you both. And, please don't think that I'm not grateful. It's just a bit of a shock."

"It shouldn't be," Pike said. "Intelligent, resourceful nurses, such as yourself, will always be in high demand. You've proven that you can handle yourself in extreme situations, whether you're battling the elements on a distant planet or disorderly cadets in your infirmary."

Christine chuckled a little. "When do you need my answer?"

"Monday of next week," Captain Pike said. "If you have any questions or concerns, either of us would be happy to talk to you further."

"Thank you, again," she said. "I'll have my answer ready, sir."

"Good," he said. He stood up and shook Christine's hand again. "Thank you for coming in."

Dr. Puri also gave her a warm good-bye and before she knew it, Christine was outside standing on the sidewalk in front of the command offices. She absently checked the time. 1530. The meeting had taken precisely thirty minutes. Thirty minutes ago, she had known exactly what she was doing. Thirty minutes ago, she had years of course work ahead of her with the ultimate reward of being a doctor at the end of it.

Thirty minutes ago, she hadn't even considered an assignment on a starship.

Now... Now, it was really, really tempting.

When she graduated with her nursing degree, she had fully expected to spend the majority of her years in space. It was only due to her mother's failing health that she decided to take a job close to home. She'd worked hard at the field hospital, been promoted quickly and made the decision to become a doctor... Well, remembering the circumstances under which she'd made her decision caused her to cringe a little internally.

Now, to be given the choice of going back up there; to explore and to see new worlds. To do what she'd been initially trained to do.

She walked slowly towards the green common area and sat on an empty bench. The leaves in the elm tree above rustled above her head and she leaned back to look at the sky.

And considered her choices.

*****

McCoy was worried.

This was actually not a common condition for him, no matter what Jim Kirk might say. Mostly he was just concerned. Concerned that the shuttle he was flying on was about to break apart. Concerned that Jim would get hit in the head one too many times, or concerned that the latest crop of med students had absolutely no practical experience and might actually kill someone one with their incompetence.

However, when he discovered Chapel just standing in front of the shelves of the store room at the infirmary with a blank expression on her face, his usual concern fell with a clang into the worry column.

McCoy's graveyard shift in the infirmary had started out in its traditional way. He arrived at 00:00 hours, just as Chapel did, and they listened to the previous shift's updates and then checked the duty roster. It was a busy evening. Several of the societies were throwing parties and the sheer amount of contraception being asked for was startling.

They had finally sent away the latest walking hormone with enough supplies to satisfy an army and Chapel had gone to start her basic inventory. He'd come in to ask her opinion on a new treatment he'd read about and found her looking slightly lost.

And staring at topical solutions.

No one stared at topical solutions unless something was wrong. Which led to the conclusion that something was wrong in Christine's life. Therefore, McCoy was worried. Because, things just shouldn't go wrong in her life. Period.

He wondered if he could ask her about it. Did he even have the right to ask?

He'd actually done pretty well maintaining a healthy friendship with her. He respected the heck out of her, both personally and professionally. Sure there had been a few times he'd considered asking her out. And there had been the one incident during a renewal class where he'd accidently massaged her foot instead of focusing on bandaging it.

Oh, who are you kidding? he thought. That was no accident.

She'd gotten her own back. Fractured pelvis, his ass. He'd spent the entire time trying to remember the most gruesome autopsy he'd ever done so he didn't make an utter fool of himself, while her steady and nimble fingers danced over his lower body. He deserved a goddamn medal for that.

He quickly came back to the present and the fact that she looked lost in the frickin' storeroom.

McCoy cleared his throat. Christine jumped and turned to face him, her hand on her chest.

"Sweet Jesus, McCoy!" she said. "Give a girl some warning next time."

"I did," he said. "Been standing here for a few minutes now."

"Oh." She looked down at the datapadd in her hands as if she couldn't remember how it got there.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"Nothing," she said with a tone that tried to approach casual and failed. "Why?"

"Because, you've been staring at the miconazole nitrate solution for a while now and unless you've got some fungal infection you're embarrassed about, something's up," he said. Her eyes widened and he was suddenly struck with the thought that he may have completely overstepped his bounds. But, he'd asked and he wasn't going to take it back, so he just met her gaze and stood in a silent battle of wills.

She looked away first and then sighed. She leaned against the shelves behind her and met his eyes again. The bright light illuminated her delicate cheekbones and he stamped down the urge to smooth his thumb over them.

"I had a meeting today," she said. "With Captain Pike."

McCoy crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorjamb. "Okay."

"I've been offered a position on the USS Enterprise," she said. "Head Nurse."

"Wow," he said genuinely stunned. "That's... That's something. Christine, that's great."

She looked at him and asked, "Is it? I'd have to give up med school."

"True. You'd also be getting a hell of a promotion."

"I wasn't even looking for it," she said shaking her head. "I still can't get my head around it." She worried her bottom lip. "Do you know why I decided to go back to school?"

"I assumed it was because you wanted to become a doctor," he said.

She smiled ruefully and looked down. "Yeah."

It appeared that Christine was slowly moving from his Worry column to the more serious Troubled column. "Would you like to talk about it?" he asked hesitantly.

Christine gave him a grateful look and crossed her arms over her chest. "It seems so ridiculous now."

"I have a hard time believing you could ever do anything ridiculous," he said honestly.

Christine met his eyes. "A few years ago, I was engaged to be married."

McCoy felt something inside of him clench and lurch. Outwardly, he just nodded.

"I met him at the field hospital where I was stationed. He was - brilliant. 'Medical archaeology's brightest mind in the field'," she recited. "One thing led to another and before I knew it... I was engaged."

"'Medical archaeology's brightest mind'?" McCoy repeated, a name flashed behind his eyes.

Christine looked regretful. "Yes, Dr. Roger Korby. Did you know him?"

"No, but I read his translations. Met him briefly at a conference," he said. He cocked his head to the side. "He made an impression."

"Really?" she asked raising an eyebrow. "I won't ask what type."

McCoy was relieved. He'd found the man to be an egotistical bore of the worst sort.

"So, anyway. There I was, working shift after shift, in the trauma department," she said. "Which I liked. Heck, which I loved. Roger, on the other hand, was busy writing and teaching. And then, the approval came through for his big expedition."

She stopped, her cheeks filled with pink and her eyes widened. She abruptly turned around to face the shelves and started tapping the datapadd. "No, this is... God, I'm sorry McCoy. You don't want to hear this. I'll figure it out."

"Hey, Chapel," he said walking over to her. He put a hand out, hesitated for a second and then laid it on her shoulder. "I wouldn't have asked if I didn't mean it. When have I ever stood around listening to something when I didn't want to?"

She let out a brief laugh and said, "Never." She looked over her shoulder at him and he just smirked at her. Chapel turned around and he dropped his hand. She looked around the storeroom restlessly and then said, "It was going to be an expedition of an indefinite length. He asked me to wait for him. Just - wait for him."

She leaned back again and rested her head on a shelf. He copied her position next to her. They both stared at the opening to the store room.

"It occurred to me that all I had been doing was waiting," she said. "Waiting for a promotion, waiting for a new placement, waiting to get married. The only reason I wasn't on any kind of a Starfleet mission was because my mother had been ill and my father asked me to come home. So, there had been an awful year of waiting to see if she was going to recover. And now, the man I loved was asking me to just keep waiting." She let out a breath. "I told him no. I told him that I was a fully qualified Starfleet officer and he'd need medical crew, so why not take me with him?" Christine pursed her lips.

McCoy said, "I take it he wasn't keen on the idea."

"He said that he appreciated the offer, I didn't have enough experience," she said. "I was much better suited for the field hospital. Because, after all, I was only a nurse, not a doctor or a specialist."

The thing about her statement that made McCoy see red wasn't the words that this man dared to say to her, it was the defeated tone in Christine's voice.

"What did you do?" he asked.

"Ah, yes, well," she said with a sardonic quirk of her lips. "Is this the point in the narrative where I tell you that in a fit of empowerment, I left his sorry ass?"

"If it would make you feel better."

"I wish," she said. "When it came down to it, it was a fairly mutual decision. He phrased it so that it appeared that he was doing the responsible thing, saving me from years of heartache and that I was now free to follow my own path. So I am and I did. I applied to Starfleet Medical two days after I returned the ring."

"Good for you," he said. "Do you regret it?"

"No! No, of course not," she said with a vehement shake of her head that loosened a few blonde strands. "I could never regret coming here. I only... I think I regret the reason I came here."

He understood, remembering the reason he came here; running as fast from Georgia as he could, the metaphorical ink not quite dry on the divorce papers.

"There are worse reasons to want to start over, Chapel," he said. "At least you care about the profession."

"I was doing it to prove a point though," she said. "That's hardly honorable."

"Well, that's a load of bullshit," he said loudly startling her into looking over at him. "You're becoming a doctor because you want to. Because, you'll be a good one. Because, you care about the practice. Maybe proving a point got you here; but, it's not what's making you stay."

He met her wide eyes and watched a sweet smile slowly light up her face.

"My goodness, Doctor McCoy. Who says you don't have a positive bedside manner?"

"Everyone," he said emphatically. They shared a small chuckle and she sighed.

"They expect my answer on Monday," she said. "I'm not sure if the fact that I've got a few days to think it over is a good or bad thing."

"So, stop thinking about it," he said. "Go with your instincts. They've gotten you this far."

"You think?"

McCoy started to answer but a loud shout suddenly came from the waiting room.

"Help! Is anyone here?"

Both of their heads whipped to look at the door and McCoy walked quickly out of the store room into the waiting room, Chapel right behind him.

A cadet stood in the middle of the room, his arm was around the waist of another cadet who was leaning against his friend heavily. The injured cadet's left leg had the hilt of some kind of weapon buried in the calf.

"Oh, God," the cadet said. "You've got to help. It was an accident."

"My leg!" the injured one groaned out. "I can't believe you stabbed me!"

"Stop saying that!" the first cadet said.

"Room Two," Chapel said before she disappeared into the exam room.

"What happened?" McCoy asked, he put the wounded cadet's arm over his shoulders and began to guide them towards the room Chapel indicated.

"We were in the square," the young man said as he stumbled. He gulped. "We were trying out some of the moves we learned in hand to hand combat."

"I told you we should have kept the guards on," the other one gritted out. "Bastard got me right in the leg."

"Hey! You said 'go for it!'"

"No! I said 'don't go for it!'"

"Enough!" McCoy snapped. "Chapel."

She went to his side and they carefully got the young man on the biobed. She handed McCoy a tricorder and he went straight to the wound on the leg and she made sure the monitor was displaying the boy's vitals. "Elevated heart rate, BP eighty over fifty," she said. She moved so she could look the boy in the eye and asked firmly, "What's your name, Cadet?"

"Richards, Joseph R.," he said in between grimaces of pain, his face was pale and a sheen of sweat was present on his forehead. She nodded and typed his name into the system.

"And you?" she asked his friend who was hugging his arms around his waist and bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Marks, Thomas F."

"It's punctured his gastrocnemious and is partially embedded in his soleous muscle," McCoy said reading the tricorder results.

"I didn't pull it out," Marks said. "That was right, right? In case it'd make him bleed out or something?"

McCoy just managed to not roll his eyes and said, "Yeah, which was the only bit of good thinking you've done tonight." He heard Chapel clear her throat but ignored her hint to keep the sarcastic comments to himself. "Call for hospital transport."

"Yes, doctor," she said as she went to the comm unit on the wall by the counter.

McCoy felt a scowl form on his face as the tricorder readings altered. Despite his good humor, the patient was going into shock. When Christine concluded the call, he showed her the screen and said, "We'll have to take it out ourselves."

She shot him a look and he knew what she was thinking. Technically, any and all invasive procedures had to be performed at the hospital. The infirmary's remit was only to stabilize and treat minor surface injuries. This would the third time he'd ignored the proscribed course of action. She didn't say a word to contradict him though. McCoy looked at the wound again and asked the cadet hovering in the corner, "What the heck is it anyway?"

"A standard Class C dagger, sir," he said. "It's designed for hand to hand combat. Very light, good for sharp thrusts."

"Yeah, sharp thrusts into my leg!" Cadet Richards said as he rose a little from the bed, his voice shrill and the skin around his eyes were now tinged with grey.

"Easy, now," Chapel said putting a hand on the injured boy's shoulder and gently pushing him back. "You need to stay still and calm. We'll get you fixed up."

"Yes, ma'am," he said laying his head back and closing his eyes.

"Chapel, I'm going to need the usual," McCoy said meeting her eyes and giving her one more chance to back out and follow the proper procedure.

"I'll get everything together, doctor." She maintained eye contact and he knew that she approved. She left the room to gather the equipment.

McCoy grabbed a pair of scissors and carefully cut the cadet's pants leg to get to the wound. It was still bleeding sluggishly and would do even more once the dagger was out. He took another reading with the tricorder to confirm his initial findings.

"Chapel!" he called. "I'll need the--"

"Autosuture," she said as she came back in with a tray of equipment. He spared her a quick look while he grabbed the hypospray.

"Thank you," he said and then he quickly injected the area right below the cadet's knee. "That should help the pain, Cadet. It should also kill off the infection you got on the way over."

"Don't you mean 'any' infection?" he asked his eyes struggling to open. "It didn't get dirty or anything."

"You think you need to play in the mud to get an infection?" McCoy asked. He shook his head. "Boy, you've probably got all kinds of things swimming around this little nick of yours which you got just by existing."

"What?!" the cadet said breaking through the haze of blood loss.

"Easy, easy," Chapel said to the cadet again before she gave McCoy an amused look. He did roll his eyes this time.

"Oh, man," the cadet in the corner said. "Our instructor is going to kill us."

"Us?! Who stabbed who, here?" Richards said trying to glare at him.

"We both decided to practice!" Marks shot back. "'It'll get us ahead in class!' you said."

"Cadets," Chapel said sharply. "Blame can be placed later. Let's get the weapon out of Mr. Richards' leg first. Cadet Marks, would you mind sitting in the waiting room?"

It really wasn't a question and McCoy didn't bother to hide his smirk. The cadet left the room hastily.

The next ten minutes were filled with requests for instruments that were filled before he'd finish speaking. The blade was extracted in a smooth pull and Chapel quickly disinfected the area before McCoy got to work with the autosuture, making sure the muscles would heal in the correct place. Then, it only took five passes of the dermal regenerator to patch up the wound. McCoy used the tricorder again to make sure the sutures were taking.

"Well, that's that," McCoy said.

"Heart rate is normal, BP stabilizing," Chapel said. She smiled at the cadet who was breathing steadily and staring up at the ceiling. "Your color's coming back. How do you feel?"

"Kind of stupid," he said looking at her with a sheepish expression.

"Good. Means you're getting better," McCoy said. "Well, you certainly won't be attending anymore sparring sessions. And you'll need to keep this leg still for at least a day or two."

"But, I've got a final in Weapons Training tomorrow!"

"You should have remembered that before you decided to play with pointy metal things," McCoy said. "The transport will take you to the hospital for observation, so for right now, just stay here, be quiet and don't move that leg."

Chapel finished putting the instruments back on the tray and with a glance at McCoy left the room to put them away. He followed her out and into the lab. She put the tray down and just looked at him with slightly upturned lips as if she was amused at his belligerence.

"They're going to yell at me again," McCoy said.

"Oh, yes," she said. "They are definitely going to yell at you again."

He rolled his neck to let out some of the tension in it. "Ah, hell."

"I'll back you up, you know," she said.

"You'll do no such thing," he said pointing a finger at her. She crossed her arms over her chest and frowned. "It was my call; I'll take whatever they want to throw at me. Probably another round with the Discipline Committee and an extra lecture on proper responses to protocol."

"It doesn’t matter that it was your call," she said. "They'll only say that I should have enforced the rules on you and made you wait until the transport got here. I'll receive some share of the blame no matter how we phrase it. I'd rather get it for following my own instincts and not just yours."

For the second time that evening, McCoy found himself staring into Christine's eyes and waiting to see who would give.

Neither gave and it seemed they would have glared at each other all night until the transport team arrived and called from the waiting room, "Doctor McCoy? Someone call for a lift?"

Chapel walked past McCoy and went to take the transport crew in to get Richards ready to be moved. McCoy looked at the tray of used instruments on the counter said under his breath, "Damn it, woman."

Cadet Richards was loaded into the vehicle that would take him to the hospital. Cadet Marks clambered up behind him.

"Nice extraction, Doc," the EMT said. "Bet the hospital will appreciate one less thing to do tonight."

"Yeah, we'll see," McCoy said. Chapel said nothing. They stood back and watched the ambulance head off.

Chapel turned to go inside, but placed a hand on McCoy's chest first and said, "I'm backing you up, Leonard. Deal with it."

He rolled his eyes and followed her inside.

The rest of the evening was quiet with only a few calls. Chapel seemed to be a little less distracted and they eventually had a good debate over the latest treatment he'd read about.

They had less than half an hour to go before the early morning shift arrived, and were sitting in the lab when the comm chimed.

Chapel answered and made sure it went to speaker. "Student Infirmary."

"Nurse Chapel?" a cultured voice inquired.

They both froze. It was the doctor in charge of the supervision of the infirmary. The report about the cadet must have already made its way over to him. McCoy made a face.

"Yes, Doctor Grant," she said. "This is Chapel."

"Is McCoy there too?" Grant asked.

"McCoy here," he said. "What can I do for you, sir?"

Grant snorted. "I seriously doubt you following protocol and calling me 'sir' at this point will do you any favors, McCoy. Did you or did you not perform an invasive procedure this evening? The question is directed at both of you, by the way."

"Under my orders, due to the fact that although the wound wasn't critical, the patient was going into shock, I could not allow for that kind of condition to just go untreated," McCoy said. "It was a simple extraction and suture."

"Nurse Chapel?" Grant said.

"Nurse Chapel was following my orders-" McCoy said ignoring Chapel's glare.

"I was asking Nurse Chapel, McCoy," Grant interrupted.

"Yes, sir. That is exactly what happened," she said her eyes daring McCoy to say something else. "The situation was serious but the procedure was a simple one and neither of us saw any reason to let the cadet suffer due to the hospital's lack of managerial foresight."

McCoy was impressed that she managed to somehow blame the hospital for their breach of protocol.

A deep sigh came over the comm.

"It is only because the two of you are the best in your respective fields that you are able to get away with your blatant disregard for the rules," Grant said. "You will both, however, report to the Discipline Committee on Monday and attend however many seminars they deem necessary to throw at you until you learn to accept that procedures exist for a reason and things should be done by the book."

"With all due respect, sir, sometimes the book doesn't have all the answers," McCoy said.

"And that, doctor, is the only reason your punishment isn't a severe one. However, you are still a Cadet at this Academy," Grant said. "Therefore, you will also be signing up to teach rudimentary health care and sanitation practices needed in space travel to the first years at the local elementary school. I understand you have a passion for the subject, so it shouldn't be too much of a hardship."

McCoy gritted his teeth and said, "It would be a pleasure."

Chapel bit her lip to stifle her laugh.

"Good," Grant said. McCoy could practically see the fastidious little man gloating over the connection. "The young man is recovering nicely and you two did a very good job on his leg. In the future, please attempt to show some restraint before you unashamedly break the rules."

Grant hung up. Chapel pressed the disconnect button and wouldn't meet McCoy's eyes.

He scowled at her and said, "You can laugh now."

She did. Heartily, in fact. When she was finished, she said, "And here I thought I had things to worry about."

McCoy just groaned and slumped down in his chair.

The morning crew finally turned up and McCoy had never been happier to see daylight when they left the infirmary. He rubbed his face with one hand and yawned. Chapel just lifted her face up towards the sky and closed her eyes. McCoy checked his watch: it was just past 0600 hours.

"Heading home?" he asked.

Chapel tilted her head and thought for a moment. She opened her eyes and said, "I think I may take the long way actually. Get some air."

"I'll walk you," he said. She must have been more tired than usual, because she didn't even offer up her token refusal.

They headed in the opposite direction of her building and walked along the path that would take them by the water. The campus was slowly beginning to show signs of life. They gravitated towards the platform that let them look out over the bay. Chapel let her hands rest lightly on the guardrail as McCoy leaned fully on his arms and hunched over to look down at the water lapping at the concrete wall below.

The only sounds were the soft thumps the early morning joggers made as they passed on the sidewalk behind them and the rumble of maintenance vehicles.

Chapel let out a quiet sigh that McCoy would have missed if he hadn't been so attuned to her.

"Still worried?" he asked.

"Not worried," she said. "More like conflicted."

McCoy nodded. She turned around to face the way they had just walked and rested her back against the rail. He straightened up a little and just looked at her. A little grin started to appear on her face.

"At least I don't have to lecture a bunch of ten year-olds about cleanliness," she said.

"Oh thanks, Chapel. Because, I really needed the reminder," he said twisting his lips in exasperation.

A wind blew past them and stirred the leaves on the ground and some strands of Chapel's hair. She absently tucked them behind her ear and slouched a little.

"I'm honestly not sure of what to do," she said. "God, to go back up there. Say what you will about the danger and the disease, it's the most amazing feeling in the world to see all that space stretched out in front of you."

McCoy snorted. "I'll take your word for it."

"Just you wait," she said playfully bumping his shoulder with hers. "You'll get it one of these days."

He bumped her back. "If by 'it' you mean Coridian Herpes, I'll pass."

Christine just shook her head in amusement and looked thoughtfully at the ground. "Thanks, McCoy."

"For--?" he asked.

"Nothing," she said raising her head to look at him. "Just thanks."

He raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Have I helped you come to a life-changing decision?"

"Ha! You're good, Doctor, but you're not that good," she said with a smirk of her own.

"Why, Nurse Chapel. Is that a challenge?" McCoy asked. He realized that he was leaning slightly into her and that her face was only inches away.

She must have had the same realization because the smirk fell from her face and she swallowed. "If it is?" she quietly asked.

He watched her eyes flicker down to his lips and he felt the pull of her begin somewhere in his solar plexus. Another breeze came past and the same unruly strands of her hair teased her cheek. Before he could stop himself, he trailed a finger down the side of her face, collecting the fine hairs and tucking them gently behind her ear. The same finger gently traced the shell of her ear cataloguing how soft it was, how dark her eyes were, how this minute touch caused her entire body to shiver and her lips to part.

McCoy leaned in and her eyes fluttered shut.

The loud insistent beeping of a sidewalk cleaner drone right behind Christine caused them to spring apart. They flattened themselves against the guardrail to let the thing pass and McCoy had never before wished to rip something into pieces with his bare hands as much as he did right then.

Christine's face turned red and she was looking down at the ground with a rueful smile. They finally looked awkwardly at one another.

"I should…" she gestured in the direction of her building.

"Me too," he said. "I've got a class at 1100."

"Yeah," she said. "Have fun with that."

McCoy all of a sudden felt too big standing next to her slim figure and his hands hung heavily by his side.

But, then she looked up at him and grinned. "Be seein' you, Doctor McCoy," echoing his words from their first meeting.

He smirked at her. "Good night, Chapel."

"Nope," she said still smiling as she started to walk backwards away from him. She pointed at the sun. "Good morning!"

With a cheeky turn on her heel, she walked off towards her apartment building. McCoy leaned against the guardrail and watched her go. Then he mentally kicked his own ass and with mumbled, "Smooth, old man," he headed off to his own dorm.

By the time he'd reached his room and keyed in he'd figured out his plan of action; because, there was now ample evidence that a plan of action was called for. After all, she certainly hadn't run away shrieking. He couldn't stop the grin from appearing as the sight of her parted lips flashed behind his eyes.

McCoy ignored the unintelligible noises that Jim made when the lights came on and headed for the sonic shower. His plan was simple: ask her out for a cup of coffee at their next shift on Friday. As long as he managed not to talk himself out of it.

McCoy fell onto his bed to take a short nap before his class feeling pretty good.

His mood took a downturn that afternoon when Jim told him he was taking the Kobayashi Maru again. And suddenly, everyone's choices were made for them.

Epilogue

Current Mood: pleased
Current Location: Home
Current Music: Dinner being made