The BLTS Archive- Redhanded
by Kiristeen ke Alaya (Kiristeen@themail.com)

---

Standard Disclaimer:  We all know that Paramount and Viacom rule
supreme in the universe we love to play in, so I guess this is what
will pass for a disclaimer.  No money being made here.  : )

---

When this duty had been received, he had been unsure of its viability
and if he'd given in to the emotions all Vulcans spent their lives
suppressing and controlling, he'd have protested about the wisdom of
assigning only the two of them to a landing party.  Both the Captain
and DR McCoy knew he was... uncomfortable around DR. Chapel.  Of
course, since he *was* Vulcan, he didn't.  He simply did his job and
kept any illogical arguments to himself.  It wouldn't have changed
anything anyway.  A crew member did *not* get removed from landing
party duty just because of 'whims'.

Unbeknownst to the object of his scrutiny, Spock watched Christine
stoke the fire in between them.  Shadows created by the flickering
fire danced across her face, distorting her features.  The illusion
disturbed him, but the reason for that escaped him completely.  She
did, however, seem... different tonight.  He continued to watch her
slow movements.  She stared into the fire, clearly lost in world of
her own.  It had been like that the first night they camped here
also...

---

~~~"Doctor?"

She lifted her eyes slowly and looked over at him with what he could
only describe as a 'dazed' expression.  "Yes, Commander?"

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she answered, her dazed look being replaced by one of
puzzlement.  "Why do you ask?"

"You seemed a little," Spock paused, searching for the correct phrase.
"Out of it."

Christine laughed lightly.  "It's the fire," she answered, lowering
her gaze back to its hypnotic glow.  "I've always loved firelight."

Silence descended as he pondered her words and she continued her fire
watching.

"I could always lose myself in it for hours," she said softly.

Spock glanced up at her words, carefully observing her facial
expressions.

"Even as a child, when nothing else could induce me to sit still for
more than a couple of minutes at a time.  Sit me in front of a
campfire and my parents had the peace they wanted."

To Spock it seemed as if she wasn't really talking to him.  It was
more like she was reliving some old memory and if he was an accurate
judge, it was a pleasant one.  He surprised himself by inquiring
further about it.  "Did your family go camping often?"

She smiled across the fire at him.  "Yes, I remember that each year
Julie and I used to watch the temperature every day, because when it
stayed warm enough for four days in a row, we knew we'd go on a
camping trip the following weekend.  They were always the highlight of
our summers."

---

From that night, once the days surveying had been completed, their
dinner finished and it was still too early to retire for the night,
they sat on opposite sides of a roaring campfire and shared memories
of similar events in both their lives.  One night she'd shared that
she was something of a pyromaniac and when he'd reacted with concern,
she'd been quick to assure him that she was a 'safe' pyro.

She'd laughed when he'd raised an eyebrow and said he hadn't realized
there was such a thing.  He'd realized then that she had a pleasing
laugh.  Each time they revealed something about their past, Spock was
surprised at how easy it was to share the stories and each night it
became easier; more natural.  A couple of times, as he'd lain beside
the fire, readying himself for sleep, he'd remained somewhat...
astonished at the facts he'd revealed to her.  Some of them
had been memories he hadn't shared with anyone.

They'd done that tonight too and now they sat in companionable
silence.  Now, as he sat watching her, he began to review the times
they'd interacted in the past.  Barring the Psi 2000 incident, and
perhaps one other time, which he refused to bring fully into focus
within his memory, she had never acted with anything other than
complete professionalism, but he had always been aware of her
feelings.

He'd never really delved into *why* he was uncomfortable around her,
he simply was.  He hadn't ever pondered overly long on why, of all of
those who professed to love him, she was the one female he remained...
wary of, long after the fact of her 'confession'.  To all appearances,
since she had returned to the Enterprise as a doctor, she had long
since moved past her 'attachment'.  Why, he wondered, hadn't he?

When she stood and stretched, moving off into the darkness, it hit him
what it was about her tonight, she moved differently.  After being
aboard a starship for any length of time, one began moving differently
than those who were planet bound.  As he watched the darkness surround
her, he realized they'd been here just long enough for their movements
to begin reverting.  'Getting their land legs', was what it was
called.

---

Making her way carefully, Christine moved off into the darkness.  The
moon light was enough to see by, barely, but only if she were careful.
The dark shadows hid pitfalls that could easily trip her.  When she
was sure she was sufficiently distant from the fire to be hidden from
even Spock's eyes, she stopped and found a fallen log to sit on.

What was with him tonight?  She was sure he hadn't realized she'd
noticed his observation, but she had and it unnerved her.  If there
had been sufficient light where she was now she would have checked her
appearance.  Unfortunately that was not an option.  But, while she was
sure she looked the worse for being stranded without having packed for
an extended stay, she didn't know of anything about her that would
evoke such a response.

She had been very careful not to let any of her abiding love for him
show in any way, not since having returned to the Enterprise, so she
knew that was not the problem.  In fact she was sure it seemed as
though she didn't have any feelings toward him one way or the other.
That was probably the only reason he'd suddenly opened up to her this
trip.

She shook her head.  She didn't think she'd ever understand that man.
She'd long ago accepted the fact that there would never be anything
romantic between them, but this trip was affording her the opportunity
to discover that perhaps there might actually be a chance for
friendship.  It was a turn in fate she intended to enjoy.  Rising she
returned to the fireside, discovering that Spock had already retired
for the night.

She curled up for the night, and thanked the stars for the
happenstance that had left them stranded here alone.  It had given
both of them a chance to move past her love and into camaraderie.

When they'd first discovered they'd been left here, she hadn't been
happy about it.  She had to admit that years ago, during their first
five year mission, she would have been delighted at the chance.  Now
however, she had only feared it would reopen old wounds and allow
Spock to realize she still loved him...

---

"Spock to Enterprise."

Christine moved around the base camp, only half listening to Spock's
communication with the Enterprise.  What she wanted most right now was
to wash off the collected filth of their underground explorations and
to soak her tired, aching feet.  They had finished the primary survey
analysis and now they needed the full team to beam down and complete
the secondary stage.  She did not hear the Enterprise's response,
because she was already beyond her hearing range.

They had just now finished the surveys of the strange caverns they had
found on the day of their arrival.  They were a fascinating series of
crystalline caves, beautiful to look at and containing numerous
undiscovered life-forms.  As such, they had occupied a large portion
of their time dirt-side.

The only drawback to them was the fact that the odd combination of
metal and crystal prevented outside communication after having
journeyed more than 200 yards past the entrance.

She knew it was that very property that intrigued Spock so much about
them.  They'd been on this world for seven days, four of which had
been spent inside the caves.  Their last communication with the
Enterprise had been three days ago, to tell them they would be unable
to communicate with them for six days.

Captain Kirk had vetoed that idea quickly and had instead given them
only three days for their underground research.  She was as
disappointed with that ruling as was Spock, but they'd both bowed to
the inevitable and had come back long before they were able to finish
cataloging the indigenous life forms they had found within the cave.

Along side the new animal life forms, they had found plants of a kind
that didn't even come close to matching any that had been previously
found.  That alone was enough to incite the researcher in her.  She
couldn't even begin to imagine the medicinal benefits of even one of
the plants they'd found so far and they'd found dozens.  Plants and
their healing properties was one of her passions, passed on to her by
her great grandmother, who'd been an herbal healer, but even with this
treasure trove of scientific discovery, she would be glad to transport
back to the comfort of the Enterprise.  The climate might be very
temperate here, but she missed the relative comfort of her bunk.  The
ground was harder than it used to be.  She didn't remember it being
this hard when she had gone camping as a child.

The first day they'd been here, Spock had deemed it more logical to
stay planet-side rather than beam up every night and then back down
every morning.  She didn't agree, but that was neither here nor there.
Since he was in charge of this mission, his word was law.

Christine had almost made it back to her tent, when something odd
caught her eye.  *Now what is that?* she thought as she moved toward
the new pile of equipment.  On the top of the pile was a datapadd.
She picked it up and activated the message contained therein.

"Stardate ---***"

"Commander Spock... ."

---

Two days before their scheduled communication, the Enterprise had
received a priority one distress call.  Without the ability to contact
them or simply beam them up they'd been forced to leave them behind,
while they went to the rescue of the endangered ship.

The pile of equipment she'd found, had been the extra supplies the
captain had sent down before they'd left orbit.  It had contained
everything they would need for their suddenly extended stay.  Spock
had informed her they would be here a minimum of eight nights, as it
would take the Enterprise three point four three days just to
rendezvous with the other ship.  They'd both agreed that they should
remain in the immediate vicinity of the beam down coordinates in case
of emergency.  Neither wanted to take the chance of injury finding
them too far from the beam down point.

That had been 6 days ago and, now, laying here on the edge of sleep,
she couldn't help but think that in all her past scenarios she'd never
imagined the easy comfortability that was developing between them.  As
sleep stole over her, a soft, satisfied sigh escaped and smile formed
on her lips.

---

Christine awoke to, too bright sunlight and a chorus of this world's
birds.  Rising slowly, stretching carefully as she did so, she was
never more grateful that the Enterprise would be returning soon.  She
was getting too old for this, she thought to herself, and she eagerly
awaited the call they would receive as soon as they entered hailing
range.  The one that would signal their wait was down to only two
measly hours.  She swore to herself that the next time she was
assigned to an extended planet survey, she'd make sure she included a
cot or at least better padding!

She moved toward the fire, happy that Spock had, as usual, already
risen and stoked it up.  As nice as it was here, the morning's were
quite chilly.  She couldn't understand why, since he *had* to be more
susceptible to the morning air than she was, he chose to bath first
thing in the morning.  However, he did so every morning.  She allowed
herself only a moment or two of luxury, then set about making
something edible from a combination of field rations and the local
vegetation they'd previously gathered.

By the time Spock returned the air was beginning to warm and
breakfast and coffee were cooking.  With a mutual nod, Spock took
over the chore, while she gathered what she needed and headed off to
take care of her own morning ablutions.

---

Spock caught himself turning to watch Christine a number of times
during breakfast.  Of course, as soon as he did so, he stopped.
There was no cover of darkness to be covert behind.  Resolutely
staring either at his plate or at the fire, he finally set himself to
discovering why, now of all times, this odd behavior had begun and
where it stemmed from.

Logic dictated that as soon as he did so, he would be able to control
the impulses.  It did not take him long to come to the only 'logical'
conclusion and he found that instead of helping him, it only made
matters worse.  He resisted yet another glance by rising and cleaning
off his plate in the tub of wash water that he had already prepared.

However, that simply task did nothing to take his thoughts from their
stubborn path.  Logically he had a decision to make, of course not
knowing what *her* feelings about him were, it made it difficult.  It
could be that things were exactly what they seemed.  If they were,
his decision was easy.  He would simply maintain the status quo.

If they were not, his choices were those before him now.  Did he
maintain his distance, as always, or did he 'open up' to her?  Of
course if he did the latter, he risked putting her in the same
position *he* had been placed in so many years ago.  Did he have the
right to do that to her?  He supposed, it would be better if he
simply kept his newfound discovery to himself.

---

As Spock finished putting up the remains of breakfast and she was
double checking that the fire was completely out, she noticed Spock
look over at her several times.  It was still a mystery to her and
she came to a sudden decision.  She marched over to where Spock was
bending over their supply packs and dropped down, sitting cross
legged no more than a foot from him.

"Okay, Spock, what's wrong?"

Spock glanced up, clearly startled by her abrupt question.  "I do not
understand-"

"Bull!" she said frankly.  "You've been observing me off and on for
the last three days.  I want to know why."  As if realizing just how
harsh she sounded, she softened her tone and continued.  "I... need to
understand what's going on."

Spock stared her a moment, obviously debating exactly what he was
going to say.  Christine waited patiently, all the while wondering if
he was trying to come up with some plausible reason that might 'head
her off'.  Little did she realize the true path his thoughts were
taking.

The length of silence grew until she began to wonder if he was going
to answer her at all, when suddenly he drew a quick breath and asked
as rushed as she'd ever heard him.  "Do you still have... feelings for
me?"

"Excuse me?!" she asked, her jaw dropping, incredulously.

Spock straightened instantly.  "Never mind, Doctor," he said stiffly,
turned abruptly and finished packing the dishes.  He chastised
himself silently.  That wasn't exactly the best way to begin the
conversation.

Of course, he was not exactly highly experienced in these matters and
if she expected that, then perhaps it was best he *had* 'bungled' the
attempt.  Christine however interrupted his musing.

She reached out and touched his arm lightly, something she'd never
before dared do, in her right mind anyway.  "Spock, don't go all
stiff backed on me.  You can't blame me for reacting with surprise.
It would me help if you'd explain *why* you would ask such a thing."

He didn't answer her, but she noticed he did not pull away from her
touch either.  That was promising, she thought, then stamped down on
that line of thinking.  She sure as hell, didn't want to broadcast
anything.  "Talk to me... please.  You obviously had a reason for
wanting to know."

He looked back to her finally.  "And you will not answer me until I
tell you me reasons for wanting to know," he asked quietly.

It was actually more a statement than a question, but Christine
answered anyway as her arm dropped away.  "I would hope you would
understand why."  Suddenly she felt like a teenager in a childish
game of you tell me your secret first.

"Spock, I... "

"Christine... "

The both trailed off and an awkward moment passed before Christine
once again, began.  After all, he'd *stretched* his Vulcan codes
pretty far already, just by asking her such a private question.

"Yes, Spock, I *still* have... feelings for you," she said, rushing to
complete the thought.  "But I don't want that to-" She lost her train
of thought to surprise as he reached out and very lightly caressed
her cheek.

"I'm... glad," he said so quietly she almost didn't hear him.

"Oh, my!" she responded breathlessly.  *That,* she had *not*
expected.  "Are you telling me that... " she trailed off.  That was a
dumb thing to ask, she thought.  Trying to make him say it out loud,
would not be the brightest thing she'd ever done.  She watched as an
amused expression showed in his eyes and his half turned up lips.

"I believe the phrase you used earlier was, 'talk to me... please'."

She grinned in spite of herself.  How like him to turn her own words
back on her.  "I just don't want to misunderstand this."  She reached
up, subconsciously mirroring his earlier caress, almost afraid she
was imagining this.

"Perhaps I can clear up the 'message' in such a way that you could
not possibly misinterpret," he said softly.  Spock leaned forward,
pulling her toward him at the same time.  He leaned down and gently
kissed her lips.

Christine's ability to breath vanished along with her ability to
stand.  She melted into his kiss.

As he felt her body relax against his, he deepened the kiss, flicking
his tongue against her lips.  Her mouth parted, eagerly accepting his
probing tongue.

Her hands palmed their way up his chest to his neck.  Then she did
something else she had always wanted to do, she lightly traced the
online of both his ears.  She was surprised at his reactive moan of
pleasure.  It sent an incredible jolt of pleasure straight to her
belly and a rush of heat to her center.  She moaned incoherently
against his lips, sure that if he let go now, she'd fall.  Her head
swam and her knees felt like they were made of jelly.

Both pulled back at the same time.  He gazed directly into her eyes,
wanting more than anything he could ever remember wanting, to see the
look shining from her expressive blue eyes, knowing he was the cause
of it.  What he saw staggered him and for a moment he could not
breathe.  He felt like he could drown in their clear emotion filled
depths.

Taking a deep ragged breath, he tried to speak normally.  "Clear
enough?" he asked.

Christine was glad of the catch in his voice, it showed beyond all
shadow of a doubt that he had been as affected by the kiss as she
had.  "Yes, crystal."

One corner of his mouth twitched up in response to her emphatic
answer.  He stepped back, allowing his hands to drop to his sides and
was surprised to discover that his legs were a little shaky.

"Now that we have that cleared up, perhaps we should begin today's
analysis of the indigenous life-forms," he said, walking off, to all
appearances, as if nothing untoward had happened.

"Yes, Sir," Christine answered aloud.  *Yeah, right!* she thought,
very privately.

---

Christine was buzzing.  She had to keep reminding herself to remove
the silly grin, she kept catching herself wearing.  Spock was
surprising her almost constantly.  Whenever she'd imagined a life
with him, her mental pictures hadn't really included much touching,
well, barring her more exotic fantasies that is.

Today, it seemed that every time she turned around, he was holding
out a hand to help her over a fallen log or large rock, or guiding
her over rough terrain with a light touch on her elbow.  It was quite
sweet, actually and she reveled in it.

While the day had been filled with scientific discovery and the Latin
naming of the flora and fauna they were cataloguing, the touches and
the occasional lingering looks that accompanied it were sweeter than
any 'sweet nothings' that had ever been whispered in her ear.

They were currently in the wooded area west of their base camp.  So
far today, they'd located and identified 26 previously unknown plant
types, and 12 animals, well 17 if they included the insects, fully
three quarters of the plants were edible to both humans and Vulcans,
though some of those had an extremely bitter taste.  One of the
plants they'd found surpassed the hottest Jalapeno she'd ever tasted.
After the first taste, she'd steered clear of that one.

Spock on the other hand seemed to like it.  He called it 'tangy'.
When he'd said that, she'd just shaken her head and continued eating
the apple-like fruit she'd chosen.  They'd stopped the days
'hunting', to eat lunch by a crystal clear lake they'd found.  Now
that she was finished, she stared out over the water longingly.  It
had been ages since she been swimming.

The first thing upon their arrival at this spot Spock had reactivated
his tricorder and scanned the water.  As he had closed it up and sat
down to eat he'd informed her there didn't seem to be any large or
predatory water dwellers.  Now she stared at it, wondering whether it
would be warm enough to enjoy.

Coming to a sudden decision, she looked over at Spock.  He was busy
reading data stored in his tricorder.  She shrugged and headed for
the water's edge.

"Doctor?"

Christine turned.  "Spock, last I checked we were still on lunch
break.  I'm only 'Doctor' when I'm on duty."  She smiled and waited,
her look almost daring him to call her Christine.

"Where are you headed, Christine?"

"To test the water."

"I already scanned the water."

"No, I mean whether it's warm enough."

"According the readings, at the time of the scan it was 21.3 degrees
Centigrade."

"Great, that's just about perfect.  A little cool perhaps, but just
what the doctor ordered."  She grinned and resumed her walk.  She
heard Spock rising and moving to catch up with her.

"What are you intending?"

"To go swimming."

"Swimming apparel is not standardly included in survey team's packs."

"I know."

"Then what are you... oh."  Spock stopped moving.  "I believe I will
go back and clear up our lunch site," he said, heading back.

Christine chuckled to herself.  Predictable, she thought, very
predictable.  "That's quite all right Spock.  I imagine coming from a
desert planet, you're not overly fond of all that water."

He stopped and turned back to face her.  "It's not a matter of the
water, Christine."

"Oh," she asked, the picture of innocence.  "Then what is it?"

He cocked an eyebrow and just looked at her.  "I would hope that-"

Christine couldn't hold the expression any longer.  "I'm sorry Spock,
I couldn't resist."

He sighed disapprovingly. "Perhaps next time... you should try
harder."

Struggling to keep her grin from growing, she snapped to attention
and responded with a crisp, "Yes, Sir".  Unfortunately, she could
tell be his expression she hadn't carried it off.

"I believe you should also resist spending so much time with DR
McCoy," Spock said drily.

"That would be difficult," she answered as she turned back toward
lake.  "Since he's my direct superior."

Spock would have acknowledged that unfortunately truth, but he
realized she was undressing as she made her way to the water's edge.
Instead of responding to her last quip, he turned abruptly and headed
back to their 'picnic' site.

---

Spock policed the area, firmly keeping his back to the shoreline.
Although, several times, her sudden splashing almost made him turn
around.  Having finished his task, Spock was, for one of the few
times in his life, at a loss.  He was sorely tempted to join
Christine in the water.

Her earlier teasing suggested that she would not mind his presence,
but he had learned over the years that humans often teased about that
which they least wanted to happen.  Consequently he could surmise
that she *would* be embarrassed were he to join her.  Audibly
sighing, he reached for his tricorder and continued his
interpretation of the data they'd gathered so far.

After several false starts and rereading the same data without
absorbing any of its significance, he realized that 'knowing' she was
mere yards behind him, in the water, nude, was curiously distracting.
Each time her body impacted the water, he was forcefully reminded
that she had to have been at least partially *out* of the water first.

His innate curiosity rose and it became a struggle to keep his eyes
on the data stream.  He could picture her rounded, feminine form
slicing through the water with clean efficiency, her bared posterior
rising out of the water with each powerful stroke as she freestyled
across the lake.

He could see her flip casually onto her back...   *This* was not
productive!  Standing suddenly, Spock cut off the flow of pictures
within his mind.  He chose a new seat, purposely closed down his
awareness of his surroundings and 'lost' himself to his studies.

He was succeeding until a short while later an aborted scream jerked
him upright.  He whirled around and ran for the lake, all before he'd
realized he had dropped the tricorder.  Stopping at the water's edge
he quickly scanned the surface.  He could see no sign of her.  He
felt a moments fear as he realized she could be just about anywhere.

While he was an adequate swimmer, having learned at Starfleet
Academy, it was not something at which he was overly proficient.
Then a weak, "Spock!" snapped his head to the right.  He scrambled
quickly up the rocks, and there below him, Christine lay, half in and
half out of the water.

He was by her side instantly.  Before he dared move her, he lay a
hand on her shoulder, "Where are you injured?"

"It's my ankle," she said faintly.  "I think something bit me."

Having been relieved of his concern of broken bones, he scooped her
up into his arms and carried her back to the lunch site, and their
equipment.

Christine rested her head against his chest.  She was so tired.  She
closed her eyes and tried to stop the world from spinning.  She
struggled to pull in air, taking short gasping breaths.
"Can't... breathe," she said as he set her beside their packs.

As he opened the packs to find her medical kit, Spock visually
inspected the wound.  It was raw, red and swelling rapidly.  He could
see three large, evenly spaced puncture wounds centered along the
worst of the angry welt and a long ragged tear toward the edge,
exposing the large bone.  Blood still oozed from the mangled flesh.

"Ox.y.gen."

Spock, interpreting her word as an order for him to apply oxygen,
pulled it out of her now open med kit.  Applying it quickly he
returned to the wound site.  He closed his hand around her leg just
above the bite, squeezing tightly enough to cut off further blood
supply.

Christine moaned in protest.

With his free hand, he activated the medscanner.  Moments later, his
concern of an unknown poison abolished, he released his near death
grip on her leg.

Christine's eyes closed as her breathing became more and more erratic.

Spock moved urgently, passing the scanner over her limp form.
"Christine!"

No answer.

Spock reached up and slapped her cheek lightly.  "Doctor, wake up."

Christine's eyes fluttered half open and she tried to focus on the
face above her.

"Doctor, Your body is going into shock."

"Tell me... scan... say."

Spock frowned a moment, translating her broken words in his mind.
Then as quickly and as shortly as he could he informed her what the
scan had revealed.  "Histamine count up, IgE count up, blood pressure
95 over 50 and dropping."

"Al.er.gic. ep.in... rin."

Spock held back his frustrated sigh and wished McCoy were present.
"Epinephrine?" he guessed.

Christine nodded weakly.

"How much," he asked turning to retrieve a hypo.  When he turned back
her eyes were again closed.  He again slapped her cheek.  "Doctor!
*how* much epinephrine?"

"three... "  Christine closed her eyes in frustration, each time she
tried to speak, her throat closed itself off.  So dizzy, she thought.
 Can't concentrate.

Hoping she meant 3 cc's, Spock programmed the hypo.

"Chlorphen... "

"What?  Chlorphen?"  Spock demanded as he administered the
epinephrine, leaning closely to catch her nearly inaudible words.

"Add... amine."

He'd never heard of that.  "Chlorphenaddamine?"

Christine groaned and tears slipped from beneath her eyelids.  "No."

As he tried to decipher what she'd meant, he noted her breathing was
beginning to ease and her elevated heart rate was slowing.  Going
through a mental list of all the drugs he knew that began
correctly...   "Chlorphenamine!"

Relief flooded Christine and she nodded slowly.  "Fift... " she said,
just before the world went dark.

Fift??  Spock thought, fifteen or fifty?  Playing it safe he tried 15
first.  Taking the time to pull out a thermal blanket he covered her
with it, then sat back, closely monitoring her bioreadings.  When he
began to see a slow but consistent improvement he turned his
attention back to her ankle.  He almost winced.

It was now swollen to roughly three times it's normal size and was
bruising a multitude of colors.  Four inches above it was a second,
fainter bruise encircling her shin.  He hadn't realized at the time
that he'd applied enough pressure to damage her skin.  He frowned
thoughtfully as he first sterilized the area then gently closed the
jagged edges with his finger tips and ran the portable dermal
regenerator over it.

---

Kirk sat in his command chair only barely restraining himself from
muttering out loud.  The passengers they now carried from the defunct
ship, were beginning to wear on his nerves.  They'd only been aboard
for 4 days and already there had been 6 arguments between them and
his crew.

He'd suspected from the moment he'd met them, nearly two parsecs away
from where their distress call had claimed they were, that they would
be trouble and he'd been right.  They hadn't been on board two hours
when one of them had done *something* to the communication system.
On the bright side, the two parsecs had cut almost a full day off
their travel time.

Uhura was *still* trying to figure out how to repair the mess.  As
near as she'd been able to trace so far, there wasn't anything
actually wrong with it.  It just wouldn't work.  Since Uhura was the
best at what she did, and knew her system better than the back of her
hand, Kirk could not help but be worried sick over what might be
causing the fault.

McCoy leaned closer to Jim.  "She'll figure it out."

"I know Bones, It's just that I keep having visions of viruses and
ship wide shutdowns dancing in my head."

McCoy grinned.  "I think it would be more pleasant to have sugar
plums and fairies."

Kirk scowled at him.  "Not funny, Bones.  This is serious.  What if
something has gone wrong on the planet?"

"Look, Jim, Spock's immanently capable of taking care of himself and
anyone else and so is Christine.  Add to that the fact that she's a
capable doctor.  What can happen?" McCoy answered, then chortled.
"And it *was* funny."

"You know better than to ask such a question, Bones!"  Kirk jumped
up.  "Sulu you have the Con."  Heading for the lift, he stopped by
communications.  "Lieutenant, we'll be in hailing range in just over
four hours.  I want the comsystem up and running by then."  He heard
her frustrated sigh come from beneath her console.

"Aye, Sir."

He turned abruptly and exited the Bridge.

---

Spock sat by Christine's side until her labored breathing eased into
that normal for sleep.  Double checking her life signs first, he rose
and repacked.  Adjusting them carefully, he jury rigged a separate
tie strap so he could carry both.

After several tries and modifications, he had them both secured to
his back and he returned to Christine's side.  He knelt down and
being as considerate of her injury as he could, lifted her into his
arms.

Christine sleepily wound her arms around his neck and nestled her
head against his chest, never completely waking up.  It did not take
long, however, for the motion that caused her foot to bob to jolt her
awake.

"What?  Where?"

"We need to return to the base camp," Spock answered quietly.

Christine could feel his answer rumbled from his chest and in spite
of the lingering pain in her ankle, she smiled.  It felt good to be
in his arms.  Then her mind caught up with her heart and she realized
that not only was he carrying her, he had to be carrying both packs
as well.

"Put me down Spock.  I can walk."  She could see a hint of amusement
dance in his eyes at her request.

"No, Christine you can't.  I did what I could for your ankle, but I
am not a doctor.  It still needs work."

"But... "

"No, buts.  You are laboring under the misapprehension that I am
fatigued.  I am not."

Christine sighed. *No, you're the one laboring,* she thought, but
gave in to the inevitable.  She didn't *really* want to walk anyway.

---

"Mr. Scott!  You cannot be telling me that the Warp engines just
*quit*!"

"Och, no, Sir"

"Good.  So we can get back into Warp now?"

"No sir."

Kirk slumped over the table in his cabin, wanting more than anything
to simply bang his head on the hard surface.  He refrained however,
and instead, tried again.  "Why not?"

"One of the dilithium crystals cracked.  It'll take me about 4 hours
to replace, realign and then restart the engines."

"Mr. Scott!!"  Kirk began impatiently.

"I know, I'll try to do it more quickly.  Scott out."

---

Christine sat, silently watching Spock move effortlessly around the
camp. She'd done what she could to finish up the repairs to her ankle
with the field equipment they had with them, but she really couldn't
do much more than Spock had done.  Despite his protests to the
contrary, he'd done a credible job of patching her up.  There was
nothing left over that nature couldn't take care of on its own.

Spock could not help but notice Christine watching him.  The time
wore on and he neared completing the preparations for beginning
dinner and he was beginning to feel *he* was on the menu.  He forced
himself to continue his efforts, but his thoughts went into what he
could only describe as a feedback loop.

He was grateful the tasks he was performing were simple ones because
he could not keep his mind focused on them.  It was beyond illogical.
 It was irrational, but he could swear he could *feel* her eyes
touching him.  It was the oddest sensation, one that he could not
accurately describe, except to say it was not, entirely, unpleasant.

As her eyes followed Spock's sleek form, she realized she'd never
before felt such freedom as she felt right now and she took full
advantage of it.  She allowed herself to fully enjoy his economic yet
graceful moves as he lit the fire, his back to her.  She watched his
hands as he prepared the vegetables.  And as he bent to pop them into
the vegetable stew he was making, she admired his tight, rounded
backside; the backside that she so wanted to reach out and...

*Oh my!* she thought and stopped that thought, taking a deep ragged
breath.  All *that* would lead to was frustration.

"Are you well, Christine?"  Spock asked turning to look closely at
her.

"Oh, yes," she answered quickly.  "The ankle doesn't hurt at all."

He stepped closer.  "No, you're not.  You're flushed," he said,
reaching for the medscanner.  "It's quite possible you've developed a
fever."

*Oh, I've got a fever alright,* she thought.  "No, Spock, I don't
have a fever."

"You're right," he said.  "So why are you flushed?"

She debated with herself a moment before answering him, deciding at
the last minute to give honesty a try.  "I'm... aroused."

Spock's eyebrow shot up.  "By what?"  Upon noticing her expression he
continued.  "I meant, specifically."

As soon as he said it, he looked like he wanted to retract the
question, so Christine gave him an out.  "Are you sure you want to
know?"

For a moment it looked like he was going to take her up on the 'out',
but instead he straightened slightly and his eyebrow lifted, subtle
amusement showing in his eyes.  "I would not have asked, if I did
not."

The thought of actually *telling* Spock what she'd been thinking,
turned up the heat another notch.  She leaned forward, delight
dancing in her eyes, never once removing her gaze from Spock's. She
intended to watch his reaction very closely, as it would determine
what she said after her first revelation.  "As you were bending over
the fire," she paused and licked her lips with the tip of her tongue.
 "I had the most incredible urge to reach out and run my hand over
your backside."

She watched as Spock's eyes widened slightly, but he did not pull
away from her.  In fact she could swear his breathing rate increased.
 Emboldened by what she could only interpret as encouragement from
him, she continued whispering.  "If I did that, do you know what I
would do then?"

"No," Spock answered a trifle roughly.  "I do not believe I do."

She leaner closer to him, lowering her voice again.  "I would trail
my fingers around your legs.  I would work my way up... "

Spock stopped her flow of whispered, seductive words with two fingers
on her mouth.  "I think... I get the idea," he said with an audible
swallow and a near smile.  "I've heard it said that actions, speak
louder than words."

"I've heard that too," she answered, then caught the tips of his
fingers in her mouth and sucked lightly on them.  Spock's sharp
inhale, made her bold and she reached up and traced his lips with her
finger.

He in turn caught hers repeating her actions.  He reached up pulling
her hand down, then lightly caressed the back of her hand with only
two fingers.

Tiny bolts of electric heat shot through her hand and up her arm,
radiating from where he touched.  She gasped in amazement. It was so
little but so much!  When he brought his fingers around to match the
tips of hers, she began mirroring his actions, much as he'd mirrored
her earlier ones.

Long intense moments past as each explored the other.  Never once did
either lose eye contact with the other.  Each stared deeply into the
others eyes, both mesmerized by what they saw and what they felt.

Christine felt like she was beset by tiny little fires throughout her
body.  Her nerve ending tingled and every touch ignited a new mini
fire.

Spock struggled to regulate his breathing.  Christine's feather light
touches evoked a longing deep in his loins, one that made his body
tremble and his heart pound.  A new heat radiated off of him on
waves.  Raw desire struggled against the bonds with which he barely
held it in check.

He moaned aloud.  This had started as a harmless flirtation and was
rapidly flinging itself way beyond his control.  Oddly he could find
no logical reason to stop it, rather he felt this driving need to
discover how hot the heat within could get, before he could no longer
hold it in check.  He leaned down and pressed his lips to
Christine's, his hot tongue demanding entrance to the cool,
refreshing confines of her mouth.

She parted her lips eagerly, drawing him in, caressing her tongue
against his in a slow dancing foreshadow of sex. Each of their
tongues taking turns darting in and out, exploring the moist depths
of the other.

Without quite realizing how they'd gotten there, they found
themselves lying side by side, their clothing no longer barring their
seeking mouths and hands and both searched the forbidden with a
heretofore unknown abandon.

Spock tasted the darkened flesh of her nipples, suckling one then the
other.

Christine moaned as his tongue teased each nipple.  She kept her own
hands in motion seeking that which she yearned to hold.  As her hands
found their target a sharp gasp brought Spock's mouth off her breast.

He returned to her mouth pulling her beneath him.

---

"Scan the planet for the life signs, starting at the beam down
coordinates."  Kirk ordered as soon as they were within short range
scanners.

"Aye, Sir." Ensign Reiling said, tapping his control panels and
initiating the scan.  "They are within 50 yards of the beam down
point.  Sir!  Both life signs are highly elevated!"

"Elevated? How?"  Kirk asked practically jumping from his chair.
"And you asked what could go wrong," he snapped at Bones.

"All readings are at least 75 percent above normal."

"How long until transporter range?"

"Fifteen minutes, Sair." Chekov answered.

"Contact Scotty, have him meet us in transporter room two, and then
signal us the moment we are within range."  Kirk ordered, already
heading for the lift.  "Bones, you're with me."

---

Kirk and McCoy stood impatiently waiting side by side, it seemed an
eternity since they'd arrived in the transporter room and still the
Bridge had not signaled.  He took two steps toward the in ship com
panel, when it beeped.  He whirled back around.  "Mr. Scott."

"Locked on."

"Energize."

"Energizing."

The atmosphere in the transporter room was heavy with anticipation.
*What* could possibly have gone wrong?  McCoy stood ready to bound
onto the transport pad, medical kit in hand.  Captain Kirk kept
seeing the worst case scenarios running through his mind as the
transport beam began to shimmer.

"There's only one confinement beam," Kirk said.  "Are you sure... "

"I've got both of them," Scotty said indignantly.

The two officers from the survey team solidified on the pad.  McCoy
took an automatic step forward before the scene playing out in front
of them registered.  He froze, along with everyone else in the room.
For one long drawn out moment of incredulity no one could move, then
the couple on the pad broke apart, rolling away from each other and
up to their feet.

The three men standing in horrified shock, abruptly turned away,
affording the two nude people the illusion of privacy.  A heavy
*knowing* silence reigned for eternal seconds before Kirk could find
any voice at all.  "Mr. Scott," he ordered hoarsely. "Beam them to
private quarters."

"Aye Sir," Scotty muttered, his Scottish brogue thick.  "Which one?"

McCoy began chuckling hysterically.  Try as he might he couldn't stop.

"I don't care!" Kirk snapped, glaring at McCoy.  "Just do it!"

"Aye, Sir." Scotty answered and turned back toward the console.
Keeping eyes down, he stared resolutely at his console.  There was
nothing in the room except him at that piece of equipment.  "Ready?"
he asked, almost glancing up at the occupants of the pad out of sheer
habit.

When he heard a fiercely whispered, "Energize," he activated the
controls.  This time he only heard the transport take effect.

As the sound died away, the tension in the room dissolved and the
three men breathed a sigh of relief.  None of them moved.

---

Christine slumped to the deck, curled her knees to her chest and
buried her head in hands.  She wanted to block out the world and
right now, that included Spock, but even her hands were red; a mute
testimony to the all encompassing embarrassment she had just suffered.

Spock stood unmoving for several moments, before he could manage even
one coherent, logical thought.  Then, it was only that they should
get dressed.  He headed for his sleeping alcove, and pulled out his
robes, as well as a secondary one for Christine.  For now, that would
be adequate.  "Christine," Spock said softly, going to the partition
between rooms.  "I do not have anything close to your size, but this
will work for now."

Her head came up at the sound of his voice in the all too quiet room.
She took a deep breath and tried to pull herself together, as he had
obviously done.  "How can you be so... calm about this?" she asked in
a credibly even voice.

"Habit, Christine." Spock answered.  "It would not help our current...
situation, if I were *not* calm."

Christine laughed a short humorless laugh.  "It'd help me.  It would
give me something besides myself to think about," she said and bowed
her head back to her knees.

Spock studied her back for a moment before coming to a decision.  He
crossed the room.  Kneeling down in front of Christine, he reached
out his hand and gently lifted her chin.  "Since you say it would
help you, I will admit that I too, am... embarrassed by what just
happened."  His eyebrow and one corner of his mouth twitched up as he
acknowledge the limited humor that could be found in this situation;
if one looked long enough.  "If I were to be completely honest, I
would even admit that mortification, might be a better description of
the... emotion I am experiencing."

Christine smiled, a touch sadly.  "Thank you, Spock."

"Why?  I merely stated the truth."

"Yes, Spock," she responded, cupping the hand that still supported
her chin.  "And sometimes the truth is a most... difficult thing to
admit."

Spock inclined his head, acknowledging the truth of *her* statement.
He held out the robe for her.  "Here, put this on."

She reached out and took the Vulcan robes from him.  She smiled, as
she pulled them on.  She stood, favoring her injured leg and ran a
hand over the material covering her arm.  "Very soft.  I always did
wonder what your robes felt like.  They always looked so... rich."

"You are a sensualist."

She wasn't sure how to take that at first, until she looked into his
eyes and saw nothing except amused acceptance.  "You bet," she said
softly.

"If you will give me the access code to your quarters, I can get you
something that fits better."

"Thank you," she said giving him the five digit access code.

Spock headed for the door, then turned just before reaching it.  "A
uniform?"

"No, something that covers all of me, I have a jumpsuit in my closet.
That's what I want."

Spock nodded, fully understanding her desire.

*Sickbay! Leonard!* "Oh, God!" she said, groaning softly.  "How can I
face Leonard?  What will he say?"

Well aware of McCoy's frequently pointed barbs, Spock thought
carefully before answering.  "I believe, that in this one instance,
we can count on DR McCoy's silence."

Christine looked at him skeptically.  "You *really* think so?"

"Yes, I do.  I do not believe, even he, would wish to perpetuate
the... awkwardness of this situation."

Christine smiled brilliantly at him.  "You know, I think you're
right."  Then she frowned.  She just hoped Scotty would keep his
mouth shut too.  If even one person said one thing, this would be all
over the ship in a matter of hours.

Spock strode back to her.  "You are worrying again."

She looked down at her hands.  "Yes, I'm just worried about what will
happen if it gets out.  I mean, I'm used to being teased
about... about you, but... "

"If this gets out, and I'm not saying it will.  I trust the
discretion of the three men who... saw us, but if it were to 'get
out', it would not change anything and we would deal with what comes."

She liked the sound of that 'we' and she smiled up at him.

He lightly caressed her cheek then disappeared through the door.

She let out a happy sigh as the door slid closed behind him and
limped to the closest chair.  Finally, with some bumps and bruises
along the way, she was right where she had wanted to be for a *very*
long time.

---

The End