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seren_ccdThere was something fundamentally ordinary about hearing someone hammering on a roof on a Saturday. It was something that brought to mind summer and lemonade and family and running around in jean shorts and no shoes on.
It’s comforting, she thought as she sanded down the window-frames on the front porch. Nothing like hammers and Tom Petty on the radio to really scream Americana. Smirking, she leaned over and turned up the volume.
The ladder propped up against the house rattled as McCoy descended and Christine looked over. It was one of the first truly sunny days of spring and already it was promising to be an unusually hot summer. He had sweat dripping down the side of his face and gratefully accepted the bottle of water she handed him.
She couldn’t help but watch him and he drank the entire thing in one long go, the muscles of his throat working and his eyes closed.
Her mouth went dry.
Therefore, she sure as heck wasn’t going to turn away when he set down the bottle and took off his old chambray shirt, leaving him in a grey tank top. She blinked as she took in the seriously defined upper arm and shoulder muscles he had going on. She knew he was in good shape and had a good, strong grip, but sweet Jesus, she hadn’t expected him to be quite so…built.
She looked away and shook her head, chuckling to herself. It’s really been a while, my girl, she thought. Hasn’t it just.
“Do you mind?” he asked and she turned to see him handing his shirt to her with a sheepish smile. “I know if I leave up on the roof I’m liable to just forget it up there.”
“No problem,” she said setting down the scraper and taking the shirt.
He flashed her a grin that she had to return and as she folded up his shirt he headed back up the ladder.
The hammering commenced after a few minutes.
Christine spent the better part of the next hour peeling the remaining paint off of the window frames. Back aching and feeling more than a little accomplished, she set the last one aside and stood. She’d gotten a lot done. Hell, they both had. From the sound of things – the banging was a lot more frantic which was quite different than the steady bang-tap of her new shingles going on – McCoy was just about finished. And from the position of the sun, it was definitely time to check on her roast. As she tidied the porch and stowed her sanding tools, she idly wondered why she was spending so much time feeding the man.
And okay, no she didn’t. She was a Chapel. Showing... appreciation through food was what they did.
Not to mention it had been ages since she’d had the urge and inclination to cook. Now that it had started, she wasn’t sure it would stop.
She had just pulled her Aunt Abbie’s cast-iron pot out of the oven and lifted the lid, letting the aroma of a properly cooked post roast and vegetables fill the air when McCoy appeared at the kitchen entrance.
“Jesus Christ, Chapel,” he said almost reverently. “That smells amazing.”
She smiled at his sincere look of rapture and just said, “It’s almost ready. Go clean up.”
He nodded dazedly and walked away looking longingly over his shoulder at the roast. Christine just chuckled.
As they sat down at her kitchen table and McCoy made tiny noises of pleasure over her pot roast. After a bite, Christine agreed with him. This was her best attempt yet. Wanting to know more about him, Christine asked about his daughter.
“Joanna?” he said swallowing a mouthful of potato. “Joanna is eight going on thirty. She’s got the McCoy stubbornness with a healthy dose of her mother’s pragmatism. Which was equal parts charming and alarming to see in a toddler.”
Christine smiled.
“She loves being outside,” he said looking out of the kitchen window. “I took her camping when she was four and she fell in love with it. She’s sharp as a tack and when she sets her mind on something… Well, let’s just say she’s does her research and will give you every good reason under the sun to give her what she wants.”
He chuckled. “She’s still extolling the many virtues of a puppy.”
“Daddy’s little girl?” she asked still smiling.
“I wish,” he said looking down at his plate. “We tried to keep the fighting around her to a minimum, and God knows I wanted more custody than I got.” He shook his head. “We got divorced when I was right in the middle of my residency and working all kinds of rotten hours. It made perfect sense for Jocelyn to get the lion’s share. But, now…”
“Now?” she said softly.
He looked over and smiled at her. “I hear there’s great camping around here.”
“There is,” Christine said with a grin. “Redwoods with trunks the size of a small car.”
“Perfect,” he said. He got another forkful of pot roast then said, far too casually, “You’ll like her.”
Christine’s fork paused halfway to her mouth, then she replied, just as casually, “I bet I will.”
They kept eating in an amicable silence. Then once they were finished and McCoy had been given a healthy portion of the leftovers, Christine shooed him out the door.
“I see how it is,” he said as he sauntered out. “Getting ready for your night of debauchery?”
“Yep,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ears and waggling her eyebrows. “There are brownies to be made and tequila, Cointreau and lime to be shaken.”
“Good God,” he said shaking his head. “Look, go easy on the tequila, all right?”
“Leonard McCoy, are you implying that a girl from New Orleans would ever have difficulty holding her liquor?” she asked putting her hands on her hips and narrowing her eyes playfully.
“I would never dream of it,” he said the corners of his mouth curving upwards.
“Good,” she said with a nod. “Now, be gone with you. I have limes to slice.”
He sketched her a salute and moved to go, but stopped and turned to give her a quick kiss to the side her neck, just below her jaw. She sucked in a surprised and pleased gasp.
“Have a good time tonight, Chapel,” he said with a wink.
Then he was gone and she was left standing on her porch, blushing and with an incredibly dumb grin on her face.
It would be wrong to call the girls and tell them not to bother coming over and go over to his apartment and let him do naughty things to me, right? she asked herself as she headed inside.
Well, not wrong wrong, she told herself. But, you’d feel guilty about it.
“Would I?” she said out loud going into the kitchen. “Would I really?”
She tilted her head to the side but before she could answer herself, the kitchen door banged open and Janice came inside with a bag that clinked.
“I have brought the vodka and cranberry juice,” she said proudly. “In case we felt like Cosmo-ing up.”
Christine shook her head. “Good. Make one while I get the brownies going.”
Janice set the bag down on the table and looked at the dishes in the sink. “Was that Dr. McDreamy I saw leaving?”
“Yes,” Christine said. “And please, he’s McSteamy if he’s anything. Or maybe McBig Hands That Have No Earthly Right to Be So God Damn Big.”
Janice raised her eyebrows. “Oh, my. Did you know you used the word ‘big’ twice?”
“Yeah. I’m fixating,” Christine said staring off into space. She re-focused when a glass with pink liquid was thrust under her nose.
“Drink,” Janice commanded. “Then tell Auntie Janice all about your unresolved sexual tension, for she doth understand.”
Christine snickered and then she drank.
“An hour into drinks, chatting, and the destruction of most of the tray of brownies and all of Nyota’s orange-chocolate chip cookies, Janice set down her drink, put on her resolve-face and demanded, “Right, Gaila. What’s going on?”
Gaila choked a bit on her margarita. “What? Nothing! Why? Did someone say something?”
The fact that her voice got very high towards the end of her babbling had everyone staring at her with expressions of concern.
“Gaila?” Christine said. “What’s going on, honey?”
“Nothing,” Gaila said looking down at her drink, her curly hair pulled up for once on the top of her head. When no one seemed to buy her statement, she sighed. “Okay, look. Things have been…tight around the salon and I’m trying to work out some money issues.”
“Anything we can help with?” Janice asked.
“No, no,” Gaila said shaking her head and taking a drink. “It’s not serious.”
Christine wondered why she wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes and judging by the look on Janice’s face, Christine wasn’t the only one.
“You seemed pretty upset the other day,” Christine said gently. “You know we just want to help.”
“If you need any financial advice, our broker is fantastic,” Nyota said leaning in. “He’s extremely reasonable and very friendly.”
“Thanks, girls,” Gaila said still not quite looking at anyone and nervously twirling a curl of her hair around a finger.
“I just wish you’d let us know what’s wrong—“ Janice started to say.
“It’s fine!” Gaila said loudly. She closed her eyes. “Sorry. But it is. I promise.” She gave everyone a forced smile and then asked Janice, “So, are you abandoning us for the glamorous world of architecture?”
The dismissal of her own issues was very clear and so reluctantly, Janice said, “I don’t know. Possibly.”
“It would be a great opportunity for you,” Nyota said gently. “And I’d love having you in the firm. I honestly wouldn’t have brought it up if I didn’t think you’d be a great fit. Not to mention the opportunity to do more.”
Janice smiled. “I think I’d love it, too. I don’t know.” She sighed. “I wish I could just be given a sign or something. Something that says, ‘Yes. This way. Go for it.’”
“Don’t we all,” Christine said glumly.
“But you got your sign,” Janice said pointing in the vague direction of Christine’s bedroom. “You got the Love Bed.”
Gaila and Nyota looked at each other and then with a screech of their chairs, ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs, both shrieking when the funky step creaked loudly, then shrieking again when they saw the bed.
“Thanks,” Christine said to Janice.
Janice shrugged. “Just spreadin’ the love.”
Nyota and Gaila came back down, both wearing looks of disbelief mixed with envy.
“Christine, it’s enormous!” Gaila sounded utterly delighted.
“That’s what she said,” Janice said snickering. Nyota snorted and then looked so appalled at herself, it set everyone else off.
In the midst of their laughter, the doorbell rang.
They all stopped so abruptly, they then started to laugh at how ridiculous they were. Christine got up from the table and said, “Leave me some brownies. I’ll see who it is.”
She steadied herself by trailing her hand along the wall of the hallway and then peeked around the curtain to see who it was. She blinked at the sight of McCoy looking awkward.
Well.
She hadn’t exactly expected him.
Stay in the kitchen, girls, she thought. Please don’t embarrass me.
After making sure she didn’t have brownie on her face, she opened the door. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he said sheepishly.
“Come to check up on me?” she asked swaying a little.
He smirked. “Actually, I forgot my shirt.”
Christine frowned. “Oh. It’s probably where I left it.” She stepped out onto the porch and walked over to the railing and yes, there was his shirt. She picked it up and handed it to him.
“Thank you,” he said full-on grinning.
“You’re welcome,” she said, looking him up and down and beginning to smile.
He arched an eyebrow. “Well, now, that’s a wicked look you’ve got, Ms. Chapel. Just what have you been drinking?”
“The usual,” she replied. “Do you not like me looking wicked?”
“I could get used to it,” he said sounding amused.
“I could get used to you getting used to it,” she said wondering if that made as much sense out loud as it did in her head.
He chuckled, but kept his eyes on her.
“Did you really come all this way just to get your shirt?” she asked.
“Nope,” he said shaking his head. “I’m definitely checking up on you.”
She stood up straight and lifted her chin. “I’m a grown woman, McCoy.”
“I noticed,” he said returning her move from earlier and looked her up and down.
“I like your wrists,” she said leaning up against the side of the house, feeling the peeling paint crinkle under her palms.
“Yeah? I like your legs,” he said.
“I thought you were looking at them.”
“Just try to get me to stop.”
“I think I’m going to kiss you now.”
McCoy blinked and then smirked. “Darlin’, you’re drunk.”
“I know,” Christine said. “That makes it the perfect time to kiss you.”
“Perfect? How so?” he asked putting a hand on the house, right beside her head. The move brought his eyes and his face and that mouth just that little bit closer, which was highly convenient, but he asked her something, didn’t he?
“It’s the perfect time to kiss you because it means that if it sucks, well, I was drunk and that can explain that,” she said. “Also, I wouldn’t normally just kiss a guy out of the blue, but hey! I’m drunk. I can hardly be held responsible for my actions.”
“I think the fact that you can rationalize all of this means you’re not actually drunk and therefore you are responsible for your actions,” he said sounding maddeningly sober and pedantic.
Christine rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut up. I’m drunk.” Then she grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him down those tiny inches and kissed him. Hard.
His hands immediately fell to her waist and when she felt the sheer width and breadth of them on her ribcage, she moaned. Hand-to-God, moaned.
Which apparently he liked because her mouth was instantly plundered by his tongue and he pressed her up against the side of the house, the crackling paint pricking into her skin through her dress.
Like she cared.
She was making out with Leonard McCoy on her front porch, his hands were the size of Utah and they were sliding up and down her sides, brushing against the side of her breast and one crept down to her thigh to slide up under her skirt and hitch her leg up against his leg.
Christine raked her nails over his scalp and his hips surged against hers.
It was hot. It was incredible. It was...ringing?
McCoy broke away from her mouth with a ‘god damn it!’ and answered his phone.
“I swear to God, Jim, someone better be dead!”
Christine stared at him as he talked to Jim (she could hear some of what Jim was saying, something about a two-by-four and Scotty), feeling an interesting mix of drunk and giddy. His hair was mussed and his lips were red and slightly moist.
I did that, she thought proudly. I think I want to do it again.
McCoy finally hung up and closed his eyes. Then he opened them and looked at her. Her breath caught at the darkness in them.
“Jim and Scotty hit each other over the head with a two-by-four,” he said in a tone that did things to her stomach.
“On purpose?” she asked her fingers itching to dive back into his hair.
“That remains unclear,” he said. “I’ve got to go and make sure they don’t die.”
“Do you need me to go with you?” she asked trying to regain some inner balance and beat her hormones into submission.
The smile he gave her was slow and tempting and did nothing to reign in said hormones. “Honey, you smell like lime and tequila. Jim has pretty low standards when it comes to his health, but even he might take issue with your lack of sobriety.”
“You called me ‘honey’,” Christine said having not heard a word he said after the endearment.
“Yeah, I did,” he said leaning into her once again. “Got a problem with that?”
Christine thought for a second. “Nope.”
“Good,” he said ducking his head down and kissing the curve of her neck, letting his tongue dart out briefly for a taste. She shivered and bit her lip.
He pulled his head back and she blinked at him.
“I’m going to be back,” he said taking a step away from her. “Although maybe not tomorrow. Something tells me you’re going to have the mother of all hangovers.”
“I’ll be okay,” she said just watching him and starting to grin.
He shook his head and turned away quickly. “You’ve got one hell of kiss there, Chapel,” he threw over his shoulder.
“Not too bad yourself, McCoy,” she called after him.
She watched him pull out of her drive and head down the road. Then with a little shake and spin, Christine walked back into her house in a daze, the feel of his hands on her ribcage lingering and her lips felt swollen and overly sensitive.
The girls were arguing over the last of the sangria.
“I deserve it because I had to talk down three people from suing the Mayor’s Office this week,” Janice was saying.
“Ha! I had to give Mrs. McKensie a bikini wax,” Gaila said. “I totally deserve it.”
“I had to herd four groups of construction workers,” Nyota said. “And put up with several artistic temper tantrums.”
Christine reached over and took the pitcher out of Janice’s hands and poured the remaining sangria into her glass. The ladies stared at her slightly shocked.
“I deserve it,” she said. “Because I just frenched Leonard McCoy and my only regret is that I had to stop.”
The ladies stared at her in silence until Nyota let out a delighted laugh. Janice grinned and Gaila clapped her hands.
Christine woke up on Sunday morning feeling like the floor of a taxi-cab. Looking up she noticed both Gaila and Janice spread out on her bed. Christine dimly remembered Nyota’s getting picked up by a sober and highly amused Spock. Although whether he was amused by the actual drunkeness or Ny’s booze-fueled rendition of “Landslide” was still pretty fuzzy.
She groaned and laughed when she remembered what she herself had done. Her hand covered her mouth as she giggled softly. She closed her eyes and could still feel the warmth and breadth of McCoy's hands on her waist as he'd kissed her. She frowned as her eyes opened to stare up at the ceiling trying to determine if she was okay with her actions.
She’d kissed him.
She really kissed him.
A grin spread across her face.
“I want to do it again,” she whispered to her ceiling. “I really, really, really want to do it again.”
Buoyed by that thought, Christine rolled out of bed. Unfortunately, her stomach didn’t get the message and kept turning as her feet hit the floor. Clasping a hand to her mouth, she gingerly walked towards the bathroom, ignoring the synchronous groaning in her wake.
She needed coffee. Lots of it.
Which she would make! As soon as her stomach rebelling and her mouth stopped resembling a shag carpet.
Christine had regained most of her equilibrium come Monday morning and she grinned at the sight of McCoy waiting outside the clinic while Janice just snickered at her. Christine got out of the car after sticking her tongue out at Janice and ambled towards him.
"Morning," she said cheerfully.
"Mornin' to you," he said, his drawl in full effect. "I heard from Jim that you had a slow Sunday."
She grimaced. "Yeah. It wasn't pretty. But once we drank two gallons of coffee and ate some of Janice's pancakes, things started to look up."
"Glad to hear it," he said as she unlocked the front door. "I thought about coming by..."
She turned to face him. "Why didn't you?"
He shoved his hands in his pockets. "I didn't want to rush you or imply anything."
"Imply anything?" she repeated.
"Well, you were a little on the incapacitated side, Chapel," he said looking uncomfortable and not quite meeting her eyes. "I didn't want you to think that what happened had to mean something. Unless it did," he said in a rush. "But, like I said, I didn't want to rush you or--"
He stopped when she stepped forward and put her hand on his chest. "I was slightly drunk, McCoy," she said looking up into his eyes. "But, I wasn't blotto. I knew what I was doing. And I'm going to do it again."
"Yeah?" he said a little breathlessly. "When might that be?"
"Not sure yet," she said shrugging. "Possibly when I know no one else is around and when Nora isn't about to come storming through that door complaining that we forgot to invite her. She has a thing for sangria."
"Chapel," he said his hand finding its way to her waist and she automatically shivered and closed her eyes at the feel of his hand settling just on the curve of her hip.
"Christine Chapel, what is this I hear about sangria being drunk and me not getting an invite?" Nora's voice interrupted the moment and McCoy stepped back abruptly while Christine bit her lip trying not to giggle.
Nora came to a stop a few feet away from the two and peered at them over her glasses. "Oh, my. Well. It's about time."
She sniffed and continued on her way to the reception desk. McCoy sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck and Christine couldn't stop the giggle from escaping. They stood kind of stupidly in the dim waiting room and stared at each other, until Nora flicked the lights on and then they stood there blinking at each other kind of stupidly.
Dear God, Christine thought. I really do like him. How fun.
"Are we planning on working anytime today, children?" Nora called out. "Healing the sick and the infirm? All that good stuff?"
"Coming, Nora," Christine called. Then she gave McCoy a bright smile and turned away putting just the hint of a swing into her step as she walked towards the reception desk. She heard a muffled curse before McCoy followed her.
Sadly, the beginning of the week proved to be far too busy and hectic for them to find any time together. In fact, before McCoy knew it Wednesday had rolled around and apart from their brief moment on Monday morning, he hadn’t been able to talk to Christine about anything that wasn’t related to medicine.
And then things went a little weird.
McCoy was walking Mrs. Timmons out when Jim and Pike strolled in. They stood off to the side while McCoy chatted quickly with Nora about arranging another appointment. Once he finished he turned to them.
“Mayors,” he said. “What can I do for you?”
“Have time for a quick word, Bones?” Jim asked. “Nothing scary, I promise.”
“Right,” McCoy said dryly taking in the similar looks of amusement on their faces. “This way.”
They headed towards his office, but stopped when Christine emerged with Mrs. Thatcher on their way to reception. The gentlemen stood to the side to let the women pass.
“Tell me, Christine,” Mrs. Thatcher said as they approached McCoy and the other gentlemen. “How did we manage to snag such handsome mayors?”
“I think it’s in the job description,” Christine said with a straight face, while Jim winked and Pike shook his head.
“And this new doctor of ours,” Mrs. Thatcher went on to say, looking McCoy up and down, making him feel like a piece of horse flesh. “You’re quite easy on the eyes, young man. And speaking of, that’s quite a pair you’ve got.”
“Thank you,” McCoy said dryly. “They came with the face.”
“Come along, Mrs. Thatcher,” Christine said sounding far too amused. “You’ll make Dr. McCoy blush.”
“Now, that I’d like to see,” Mrs. Thatcher said as they continued towards the reception desk.
McCoy shook his head as Jim and Pike continued to chuckle.
“I’ve always liked Tabitha,” Pike said as they watched the women continue down the hall. “Never afraid to tell it like it is.”
They headed into McCoy’s office and McCoy took a seat behind his desk, while Jim and Pike sat down in the chairs in front of him.
“So, mayors,” McCoy said with a wry grin. “What’s this all about?”
“We’re just here to check up on things,” Jim said. “Nothing major. I’ve been hearing very good things around town.”
“Extremely good things,” Pike said inclining his head. “I hear you even managed to get Mr. Givens to get that bum leg of his checked out.”
He arched a brow at the mention of ‘things’, but then McCoy shrugged. “All the man needed was the reassurance that I wasn’t going to chop the limb off.”
“Yeah, but that’s more than anyone’s been able to do in years. And your month probation is up on Monday,” Jim said earnestly. “Bones, we want you to stay.”
Pike nodded. “And I think the entire town agrees with us.”
“What do you say, Bones?” Jim asked grinning. “Feel like sticking around to see what winter looks like around here with all the icy sidewalks?”
McCoy snorted. “Not sure if that’s a joke or a threat.” He took a deep breath and stared down at his hands. “I’ll be honest, gentlemen. I do enjoy it here. More than I thought I would. And I’d love to bring Joanna here.” He furrowed his brow and then looked up at Jim. “Give me until Monday? I mean, I’m tempted to just go ahead and say yes, but…”
“You need to think it over?” Pike said.
“Or think it over with someone?” Jim asked knowingly.
McCoy rolled his eyes. “Just give me until Monday. And if you don’t mind, I do have patients to get back to…”
“Works for me,” Jim said cheerfully. “Monday it is.”
They all got up and McCoy shook both Jim and Pike’s hands; then they headed out into the clinic. As McCoy walked them into the reception, the door opened and a large, burly, bald man wearing a sheriff’s uniform came in. He nodded at Jim and Pike who nodded back.
“Sheriff,” Pike said.
“Sheriff Cupcake,” Jim said in a cheerfully wicked tone.
The Sheriff rolled his eyes. “Mayors. Doc.”
“Bones, this is our sheriff, Jack Smith, also affectionately known as Sheriff Cupcake,” Jim said to McCoy.
“Good to meet you,” Sheriff Smith said. “Been hearing good things about you.”
“Thanks,” McCoy said shaking his hand. “And I’m afraid I have to ask, why--?”
“Why Cupcake?” he said. He snorted. “Blame Mayor Kirk. I won a competition once.”
“How many cupcakes can a man eat in five minutes,” Jim said rocking on his feet and smiling.
“Turns out about fifteen,” Sheriff Smith said with a rueful grin.
McCoy grimaced. “Good God, man. How sick were you afterwards?”
“He wasn’t!” Jim crowed.
“Hence the nickname,” Pike said clapping a hand on the sheriff’s shoulder.
“Hence the nickname,” Sheriff Smith said shaking his head.
“A well-earned nickname,” McCoy said. “Are you here for an appointment?”
“Actually Ms. Rand told me you were here, Mayor,” Sheriff Smith said to Jim. “I need to have a word with you.”
“Of course,” Jim said. “We can head back to my office.”
“Well, actually. Since you’re all here…” He sighed. “We’ve got a bit of a problem, mayors.”
He seemed to include McCoy in his address and so McCoy offered, “Would you like to step into my office?”
The sheriff nodded and the four men headed back into the recently vacated room. Chapel caught his eye from where she was ushering a mother and daughter into an exam room and gave him a fairly justified look of confusion. He gave her a nod and a shrug that was meant to mean “I’ll tell you later”.
From the answering nod he presumed she got the message.
There not being enough chairs in the small office, McCoy just leaned against his desk, Jim next to him. Pike stood to the side and Sheriff Smith stood in the middle.
“There have been reports of breaking and entering coming in from all over town. Primarily in a number of the house built prior to 1970,” he said and Jim’s posture straightened. “Now, no one’s reported anything stolen, just things not where they should be, furniture rearranged just enough to cause worry.”
“Christ,” McCoy said shaking his head. “And I thought she was worried over nothing.” The other men looked at him. “We’ve had at least four cases of people injuring themselves at home. Tripping and running into things that they were sure was in the wrong place. Didn’t think much of it, but Nora swore up and down that these folk were not the clumsy type.”
“Can you tell me names?” Smith asked his forehead creasing.
McCoy grimaced. “Don’t reckon I can, confidentiality and all that.” He held up a hand to forestall the obvious argument Jim was about to make. “You come to me with names and I can confirm or deny if they’ve happened to darken my doorstep, but beyond that? Sorry, gentlemen.”
“You always did have morals, Bones,” Jim said sadly. He looked at the sheriff. “What do you want to do?”
“Well, my first thought was to shut down the renovations. Now, hold on, Mayor,” he said as Jim stood up straight and protested. “I’m not going to do that because no one can afford to, but let me just ask, how well do you know the folks that are on those construction teams? They’re new and not locals.”
“Those teams have undergone a vetting process by Sulu and Spock’s companies,” Jim said. “Do you think either of them would hire anyone they didn’t trust?”
“Fair point,” Smith said nodding his head.
“How do we know it’s not just kids,” Pike said. “Looking for a thrill.”
“We don’t,” Smith said. “And honestly, I’m tempted to leave it at that. But I’m going to be putting a few more patrol cars out in the evenings.”
“Sounds wise,” Jim said. “I’ll ask around. See if anyone’s heard anything. Surreptitiously, of course.”
McCoy snorted in disbelief and Jim just replied with a cheerful, “Shut up, Bones.”
After Jim, Pike and the Sheriff left, McCoy remained in his office. He took a seat behind his desk and closed his eyes in thought. They weren’t second thoughts in regards to the position, just…thoughts.
Forgetting about the breaking and entering, he just focused on the notion of staying in Enterprise. Making a permanent home in the town. The image of Christine sanding away at her window frames and brushing her hair off her forehead with the backs of her hand flashed in his mind and his eyes opened.
Staying has an awful lot of appeal, he thought. It would never be boring, that’s for sure.
He furrowed his brow and mentally listed the pros and cons of staying and to his surprise, he couldn’t think of any cons. Well, despite the utter lack of common sense displayed by most of Enterprise’s citizens, but all that really meant was he’d always have something to do.
A soft knock broke him out of his contemplation. “Come in!”
The door opened and Chapel poked her head around. “Permission to enter?” she asked cheekily.
“Permission granted,” he said with a grin. “Get in here and get a load of this.”
She raised her eyebrows and took a seat. “What’s up? What did Sheriff Cupcake want?”
“Ridiculous appellations aside, apparently there’s been a rash of breaking and entering going on in town,” McCoy said.
“What?” she said blinking in surprise. “You’re joking.”
“Nope,” he said. “All those times Nora said there was something funny going on? With all those normally sensible people tripping over their own furniture? Supposedly, there is something going on. Someone’s been breaking into the older houses in town and looking for something. They aren’t taking anything, just looking around and moving the furniture.”
Christine looked shocked and then thoughtful. “But they haven’t stolen anything?”
“Not yet,” McCoy said shaking his head. “God. Only in Enterprise, right?”
“Right,” Christine said absently, her eyes staring into middle distance as though she was trying to figure something out.
“You okay?” he asked leaning towards her over the desk.
“What? Yes,” she said coming out of wherever she’d gone. She smiled. “What did the mayors want?”
“Oh, they just wanted to tell me that my probation was almost up and to give them an answer on Monday,” he said leaning back in his chair and propping his feet up on the corner of his desk.
“An answer?” she repeated looking confused.
“As to whether or not I want to stay on permanently,” he clarified. He gave her a tiny smile. “I’m leaning towards ‘yes’.”
“You are?” she said suddenly looking wary.
“Well, yeah,” he said. “I like the job. The town’s great, Jo will love spending time here, the practice is fantastic and well, there’s you.”
“Me?” she said her voice squeaking.
“Ye-ah,” he said slowly sitting up, his feet falling to the floor. “You’re part of the reasons to stay, Chapel. I figured you knew that.”
“Oh, well, I mean,” she said sounding flustered and looking anywhere but at him. “You should think about it, you know. We don’t know each other all that well and I’d hate for you to stay somewhere just because of me. That’s a really big responsibility and you should make sure you’re staying for more reasons that just that.”
“I am,” he said feeling confused and a little disappointed. “Christine, what’s going on? I thought we were going to see where this went?”
“We are,” she said brightly still not looking at him. “Just, you know, don’t jump into any big commitments. Sleep on it. And, um, yeah. I have to go.”
She stood up quickly and headed for the door, looking for all the world like she’d been spooked and McCoy guessed she had.
“Chapel,” he called standing up. “Please don’t freak out over this.”
“Freak out?” she said with a nervous laugh. “Who’s freaking out? I’m not freaking out.”
He gave her a look and she just sort of waved her hand and left his office. McCoy let out a gusty breath.
“She freaked,” he said quietly. “Damn it.” He looked around his office helplessly. “Damn it.”
Christine hurried back towards reception, her mind reminding her that Julie Parker was waiting in room two for her annual exam, but at the last second, Christine veered off into the ladies’ room.
She threw the lock on the door and stood in front of the mirror, her hands grasping the edge of the counter, her head bowed.
He was thinking about staying. Staying in Enterprise. And his reasons were all the good ones: he liked the practice, he liked the town, it would be good for his daughter. All fantastic, logical reasons. So why was she having a minor crisis in the bathroom? She bent her head further and squeezed her eyes shut.
Because, he also said that he’d stay for you, you dope, she told herself rather archly. And that kind of statement of obvious intent scares the crap out of you. You know, considering Roger was supposed to stay. And look what happened there. He left. How do you know McCoy won’t leave? Answer: you don’t.
Christine opened her eyes and started to wash her hands, making sure to run her wrists under the water. She needed her pulse and thoughts calm, and her options were kind of limited right now. Unfortunately, the remainder of the tequila was far, far away, and misusing her pharmacy key was just… Well, not an option.
However, her internal voice wasn’t finished.
The fact is, my girl, you like him. More than that, you’re halfway to falling in love with the man and this time you know it’s real, the voice said. He’s not Roger. Not even close.
“Which means that it will hurt all the more if things go wrong,” she said out loud pulling out far too many paper towels to dry her hands with.
So you’re going to do nothing? she thought. Just in case it does go wrong? Christine Chapel, don’t you dare be that cliché.
Throwing the paper towels in the trash can, Christine had to concede that maybe she had a point.
But, there were patients to see and she had a job to do and she could think about all of this later in comfort of her own home.
Your home that you-know-who has spent the last three Saturdays helping you renovate of his own free will, her internal voice reminded her.
“Oh, shut up,” she muttered, before unlocking the door and going back to work.
Christine wasn’t too big of a person to not admit when she was ignoring someone.
So, here goes: Christine Chapel was ignoring Leonard McCoy.
And to his credit, apart from some cross looks that had a tinge of desperation to them, he was letting her.
Nora kept shaking her head and the other nurses looked confused at the fact that that their head nurse and doctor – who had been getting along so well – were barely speaking.
Christine was very aware of all this. She really was.
She just didn’t know how to stop herself.
By the time Saturday rolled around Christine had gone from panic directly into listless. She had no idea what to do, or even what she SHOULD be doing to distract herself. Finally, she settled on poking half-heartedly through tile catalogs and making vague plans for the downstairs bathroom. But by five, she hadn’t decided much, other than burnt umber was a stain upon all humanity, and why were they even making it anymore?
Seated in her newly-painted living room, she reflected on the idiocy of tile manufacturers and watched the sun go down through her bay window. God, she was such an idiot. She should have just told him that anything he decided was fine. That’s what she’d been doing with Jan! If she’d just said that, he could be over right now. They could be kissing.
They could be doing more than kissing. With tongues. And probably a lot of hands in new places.
“That would have been a much better response,” she said out loud.
The sound of her cell phone ringing startled her out of her gloom and she stretched to reach her bag. Gaila’s name flashed at her.
“Hey, sweetie, what’s up?” she answered.
“Chris!” Gaila whispered. “Chris, I’m in trouble. I need you to go to 45 Robin Hood Drive and knock on the front door.”
“What?” Christine said sitting up straight. “What are you talking about? Why are you in trouble? What’s going on?”
“I don’t have time to explain, just please, Chris, please! Get over here as soon as you can!”
Christine thought she heard a muffled curse with a distinctive Scottish burr attached to it. “Gaila? Is that Scotty? Why are you whispering?”
“Because I’m stuck in a closet in a house that was supposed to be empty but the owners just came home and I’m stuck in a closet!” Gaila whispered harshly.
“Oh, my God!” Christine whispered back getting to her feet. “It is you doing the B & E’s! Are you seriously looking for the jewels in people’s homes? Gaila!”
“I know! Look, yell at me later,” Gaila whispered back. Her voice turned frantic. “Christine, please! I am begging you. Help me!”
“Ugh! Fine,” Christine said sliding her feet into her shoes. “But I am doing this under duress. You will stop this now.”
“Yes! I promise! Hurry!”
Gaila hung up. Christine stood in her living room for a second staring at her phone wondering if she should call someone. Deciding there wasn’t really anyone to call, Janice would be obligated to call Jim and Nyota would most certainly disapprove, Christine knew it was down to her.
With an exasperated sound, Christine grabbed her dark blue cardigan and threw it on over her t-shirt and jeans and headed out the door.
“This is nuts,” she said walking quickly to the sidewalk. “Absolutely nuts. What am I even doing?”
When McCoy had the thought that staring at the blank walls of his apartment just might drive him around the bend, he made the decision to go over to Christine’s house. He wasn’t about to let the woman that sent him into such a tizzy out of his life. More than that, he’d already decided to stay in Enterprise and that meant that if she wanted to take things slowly, they could take things slowly.
“Hopefully, not too slowly,” he muttered remembering how smooth her skin felt under his fingers and the enthusiastic and sensual way she’d kissed him.
He pulled onto her street just as she was exiting her house. He frowned when he noticed she looked flustered and worried and was walking very fast down the sidewalk. Little alarm bells went off in his head and he slowed down to pull along side her.
At one point, she stopped, shook her head and turned around heading back to her house. Then she stopped again, said something out loud and then turned around once again.
McCoy pulled up next to the curb. “Need a lift?”
Christine shrieked and jumped away. When she saw him, she groaned. “Oh, God. Look, I have a lot to say to you. I really do. But I can’t right now. So, don’t take this the wrong way, but go away. Please?”
“Wow, yeah,” he said shaking his head. “That’s not going to happen. What’s wrong? Can I help?”
“No, you really can’t,” she said looking close to frantic. “Please, McCoy? Just go away.”
“Chapel, shut the hell up and get in the car,” he said gruffly. “I can at least drive you to wherever it is you’re off to in a hurry.”
She put her hands on her hips and looked back towards her house and then down the street. Then down at the ground. She raised her head and pinned him with a seriously cross look. “You’re not going to go away, are you?”
“It’s the famous McCoy tenacity,” he said. “I’ll follow you if I have to.” She seemed to waiver. “Get in the damn car, Christine.”
“Fine,” she said exasperated. “But don’t ask me any questions.”
She walked around front of his car and got in, automatically buckling her seat belt.
McCoy breathed in the scent of her, lavender and vanilla and knew he’d probably do anything she asked him to. All he said though was, “Where are we headed?”
“Down the street, first left and then the first right,” she said her hands fidgeting with her phone.
“Okay.”
They sat in silence, McCoy driving carefully while Christine shifted and acted for all the world like a toddler who couldn’t keep still.
Finally she said, “Aren’t you going to ask me what this is all about?”
“You told me not to,” he replied casually.
“Since when do you follow directions?” she asked irritably.
“I think I’ve done pretty god damn well,” he said taking the first left. “I’ve left you alone the past two days when all I wanted to do was grab you and make you tell me what was going on in that pretty head of yours.”
She winced and he immediately felt bad. “Shit. I’m sorry, Chapel,” he said. “That wasn’t fair.”
“Yes, it was,” she said softly. “I freaked. I’m sorry.”
He took the next right and shook his head, really wanting to press her on it but sensing now was not the time. “It’s fine.”
“It’s really not,” Christine said putting her hand on his arm and facing him. “But I want to make it fine, but I have to do something first. Can you pull over next to the large oak tree?”
He spared her a quick look and did as directed. She unbuckled her seat belt and said, “Now, just wait here. I’ll be right back.”
Before McCoy could say anything, Christine was out of the car and dashing across the street to a large house with green shutters on it. He narrowed his eyes and watched as she knocked on the door and bounced on the soles of her feet, looking extremely nervous. No one came to the door.
“What the...” he muttered. “Christine, what is going on?”
She knocked on the door again and when no one answered, she shot a look back at McCoy who just raised his hands helplessly. She held up her own hand in the universal movement to ‘stay’. Then she squared her shoulders and put her hand on the doorknob.
“Christine Chapel, you are not walking into that house,” McCoy said out loud. “Woman, what are you doing?”
Then, right before his very eyes, Christine Chapel walked into the house.
McCoy sat in his car feeling stunned.
“Shit,” he said loudly.
A navy blue car drove down the street heading his way. Instinctively, McCoy ducked down, slouching in his seat, his eyes just above the dashboard.
The car turned into the driveway of the house with the green shutters.
“Oh, fuck,” McCoy groaned. “Get out, Chapel. Get out, get out, get out!”
The garage door opened and the car rolled inside. McCoy could see the owners get out and head to the door on the inside of their garage. As they opened the door, the front door opened and Christine gingerly stepped out. She tried to peer around the corner, but couldn’t quite see the garage. She looked over at McCoy.
McCoy sat up straight and held up his hands, mouthing ‘Stop! Wait!’
She pulled back a little. McCoy watched as the owners stepped fully into their house and then motioned for her to come.
Fast as anything, she darted across the lawn, over the street and into his car.
McCoy stared at her in disbelief, while she tried to get her breath back, her hand pressed to her chest.
“She wasn’t there,” she said in between breaths. “I guess she got out. Jesus.”
“Right,” he said flatly. “What the actual fuck, Chapel?”
“Long story,” she said breathlessly. “Which I’m happy to tell you the entirety of. But first, can we get the hell out of here?”
Wordlessly, McCoy turned the car on and pulled away, heading back to Christine’s house, while she tried to call Gaila.
“So, let me get this straight,” McCoy said as they walked into Christine’s house. “Your little friend, Gaila, has been hung up on finding Jim’s grandma’s lost jewels and has begun breaking into people’s houses in order to search for them?”
“That’s what it looks like,” she said distractedly, still trying to reach Gaila, but having no luck. “Crap. I think something’s wrong. I’ve got to go.”
She turned and came face to face with McCoy who looked stern.
“Christine, there is no way I’m letting you out of this house,” he said. “You do realize you just broke the law?”
Oh, she was very aware of it. Her heart still hadn’t stopped racing.
“I know,” she said sadly. “Believe me, I know. But, she’s my friend.”
“Which you can’t reach,” he pointed out. “She’s probably gotten out but got distracted.”
“Maybe.” Christine chewed on her bottom lip feeling unsettled and antsy. McCoy’s thumb came up to smooth her lower lip from her teeth’s assault on it. A feeling of pure lust socked her in the solar plexus and she made a tiny sound. Which he heard, of course. He let the pad of his thumb brush the length of her lip and then dropped his hand and looked away.
Christine felt bereft and her heart continued to race madly, but for a totally different reason than before.
“I’m thirsty,” she said firmly. She turned on her heel and went into the kitchen, McCoy following her. He took a seat at the kitchen table while she automatically pulled out her iced tea pitcher.
After pouring them both a glass, she sat down at the table. Christine stared at the condensation on her glass.
Eventually, McCoy cleared his throat and said, “So. You freaked.”
“Yes,” she said with a wince. “I freaked.”
“Do you know why you freaked?” he asked her taking a drink.
“Honestly?” She raised her head and considered him. “I have no idea.” He nodded and she went on, “I think I couldn’t believe that it was this easy--”
“Of course it is,” he said interrupting her. “Falling for you has been the easiest thing I’ve ever done in my life. This part’s always easy. It’s the staying that’s hard.”
She frowned. “Do you want to stay?”
“Yes,” he said and she started to interject something but he cut her off, “and before you start on some nonsense about not staying for you, I’ll tell you that I’m not. I’m staying for me. I’m staying because this ridiculous town has hooked its little fingers in me but good.” He grinned slowly. “The fact that I’m plumb crazy about you and would dearly love to see what a lifetime of house repairs and kisses on your front porch is like...well, that’s just a neat, little perk.”
Christine actually laughed. “I’ve never been a perk before. I’m not sure how to take that, to be honest.”
“As the compliment that it is,” he said seriously yet still grinning.
“I can’t guarantee I won’t freak out again,” she said looking back down at her glass.
“I can’t guarantee I won’t either,” he said. He put his hand on hers and electricity shot straight through her. “But god damn it, Chapel. We’ve got to at least try.”
She looked up and studied him, his warm, hazel eyes and strong jaw, his hands that felt so good on her skin.
Jesus, he really was nothing like Roger.
The absolute truth of that statement hit her square in her stomach. He was nothing like Roger and therefore who she’d been with Roger, how she’d reacted to things he did, how she acted… Christ, it really had no business being a factor in considering McCoy.
He’s a different person, she thought. A completely different person. And so am I. Oh, damn. I want this. I want him. I want all of it!
“It would be a crime against nature if we didn’t,” she said thoughtfully, feeling that familiar giddiness rise up within her. She furrowed her brow and stood up, her hand sliding out from underneath his. He frowned as she picked up both their glasses and set them down next to the sink.
Christine paused for just a moment, staring out into her backyard in the dimming evening light. There wasn’t any doubt anymore. That second little voice inside of her was silent and she felt as though it had all been inevitable from the start. So, she may as well go for it.
She heard him get up from his chair and come to stand just behind her. The heat from his body enveloped her and she took a deep breath.
“I promise to give you all the time in the world, Christine,” he said, his voice low and intimate. “But, please don’t turn me away. Give this a chance.”
Her body swayed of its own volition towards him and Christine knew, simply knew, that this was going to work. They were going to make it work.
However, her realization was strictly internal and so McCoy had leaned in closer and she could feel his breath on her neck as he said, “Tell me to go, Christine and I will, but God above I really don’t want to.”
“Neither do I,” she whispered.
Quick as a flash, she turned and looked up at him, her hands coming to rest on his chest and then gliding up to twine around his neck. She rose up as he leaned down and then they were kissing with a kind of passion that she’d never experienced.
It swept over her so fast, she felt dizzy. Or maybe it was due to the fact that his tongue had traced the seam of her lips and was now tangling with hers and his hands were roaming up and down her sides, over her bottom and down her thighs.
She made a noise of pleasure when his palm curved over her butt and then down to massage her hip. She felt as though she was on fire and she couldn’t stop kissing him, her fingers threaded through his thick hair and then moved to grasp at his shoulders.
His hands spanned the width of her thighs and he raised her up so that she was on her tiptoes and her pelvis was flush against his.
They moaned in unison when she rocked against his erection and Christine scrambled for purchase to get a better friction going. Her hip hooked over his and he eagerly pulled her up all the way to perch on the edge of the sink.
Distantly, Christine heard her cell phone ring, but paid it no mind because McCoy’s mouth was on her neck and even as her head fell back to give him more access, she was bunching up his t-shirt.
Her cell phone stopped ringing just as her hands found his bare skin and she was anxious to touch as much of it as she could.
Their hips had managed to find a suitable rhythm without either of them knowing it and when he pressed against her just right, Christine cried out.
“Oh, fuck, Chapel,” he muttered into her neck.
“Yes, God, yes,” she said back, her nails digging into the skin of his lower back as they rocked, still fully clothed, against each other.
Christine’s house phone rang just outside the kitchen and while Christine thought it was odd that anyone was bothering to call her on that line, she was too busy approaching what promised to be one of the better orgasms she’d ever had and she still hadn’t removed any clothing.
McCoy was busy sucking a bruise onto her collarbone when Christine’s answering machine kicked in and as Christine pulled his face back to hers to kiss him, a frantic Janice left a message that echoed in the hallway.
“Chris! Christine, where are you? Gaila, Scotty, Pavel and Hikaru have all been arrested for breaking and entering and everyone’s in jail! Pick up! Or God, just get over here! Chris! Now! Please!”
Christine pulled back and looked blankly at McCoy, who looked blankly at her. She noticed that his lips were moist and swollen and assumed hers were as well.
“Did she just say everyone had been arrested?” she asked, electricity still humming in her veins.
“Yeah,” McCoy said. He swallowed hard. “They’re all in jail?”
“Oh. Well. Fuck.” Christine slumped. “I think I have to go.”
“Yeah, I’ll take you,” he said resigned. He helped her hop down and she, in a daze of disbelief, shock and unabated lust, headed towards the door. She absently smoothed her hair down and saw McCoy doing the same. She’d just opened the door and caught his eye. They stared at each other for a second before he snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her to him, crushing her mouth to his.
The fierce kiss had her bending slightly backwards over his arm and when he raised his head to look at her, he said, “We will go bail your friends out from jail and then we are coming back here and finishing this. Right?”
“Right,” she said starting to smile in spite of it all. “Now, get me to the jail, McCoy.”
Part V
