Worn Paper Dolls

By Djinn

"I don't know how we got this far. Don't know when we became who we are. The war goes on behind these walls. You and me are just worn paper dolls."

- "Paper Dolls," Rob Thomas

Part 1

The ship lurched, and Chapel backed up against the nearest bulkhead and closed her eyes. This wasn't the Enterprise and Sulu wasn't at the helm getting them the hell out of trouble. If he had been, she'd have felt far less afraid.

Why the hell had she left the Enterprise? So Len and Spock and Kirk had come back? So she'd been demoted? It was the flagship. It was...safe. Or safer, anyway.

And her friends were on it. People she trusted. Although her best friend wasn't even returning her comms; she needed to find out from Uhura if Rand was away at training or was just ignoring her on general principle.

And why did she have to ask one friend what the other was doing?

It didn't help that she was having a hard time finding her place on this ship—being angry and pissy much of the time probably wasn't making her shipmates anxious to be her new best buds.

"Lieutenant?" A familiar voice, and she whirled and saw Sarek coming toward her and felt a rush of relief. He was smart and capable and not mad at her—or someone she was running away from. Not a friend, but the closest thing she had to it on this shithole of a ship. "Nurse Chapel, isn't it? We met on the Enterprise—are you all right?"

"I'm fine. Also a doctor now." She realized he was bleeding. "Ambassador, you're hurt."

"I merely stumbled at the last hit." He reached up and his hand came away green, which seemed to surprise him.

"Come with me." She turned, but the way back to sickbay was blocked. "Computer, status of Deck Seven?"

"Potential breach at junction seven delta and seven zeta. Containment measures in place."

Great. They were sitting in seven epsilon if she had the layout down right. Nowhere to go, but she asked anyway, "Barring the access tubes, can we get to sickbay from here?"

"Negative."

"Come on," she said, not liking how Sarek was almost swaying on his feet. "There should be an emergency station up here somewhere." Damn her new captain for getting them into a firefight before she'd memorized the layout of this ship. Damn this ship for not being laid out the way she expected.

She took Sarek's arm, worrying that it was the height of discourtesy, but he didn't say anything—proof, she thought, that he'd taken a harder hit than he was letting on. She hustled them down the corridor until she saw the familiar symbol for an emergency medical kit.

Once there, she hit the intercom. "Chapel to sickbay."

"Elstrom here, ma'am. Where are you?" Her deputy sounded frazzled.

"Cut off for now. You okay there?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I'll be back as soon as the way is clear."

"Roger that." The connection went dead. She hoped it was just Elstrom's way of ending a call and not some new problem making the comms go dead before he could. She turned to Sarek, "It's not much, but it's all we've got."

"Understood." He waited as if there was no need for any fuss while she unstowed a folding seat from the wall, but he sat quickly and without argument, clearly feeling worse than his expression was letting on.

She checked through the equipment and meds, not liking what she was seeing. She would never have put up with emergency kits looking like this on the Enterprise. It was becoming more and more apparent what a cluster fuck of a situation she'd inherited from the outgoing CMO of the Danube.

"It's been a long time, Ambassador." She smiled at him, trying to make a show of things being okay even though he'd probably read they weren't from her brief touch. "Let me figure out where this bleeding is coming from."

She worked for a few minutes, then he said softly, "I had heard you were on the Enterprise with my son."

"Where'd you hear that?" She backed away to see his face. "And why would you care?"

He gave her nothing back other than a strange little shrug.

She went back to scanning him. He'd hit hard, that was apparent. But like many head wounds, it looked worse than it was. She grabbed the field regenerator and got to work on repairing the wound, glad she didn't need more in the way of meds or supplies since there wasn't much to work with. These little regen units did basic repairs only, but she thought it would be enough until they could get to sickbay. "You're right: I was on the ship. I transferred off. CMO here seemed preferable to 'same old, same old' there."

Jesus, why was she being so honest with him? Like he cared in the first place. And he might tell Spock, who might tell Len and Kirk—Starfleet was a small place and burning bridges wasn't her style normally. But she wasn't at her best. Truth to tell, she'd been floundering since Kirk demoted her. She'd put so much energy into becoming an MD and then learning what it took to be CMO on the flagship, that the let-down afterwards had left her reeling emotionally and, given the idiot move she'd made coming to this ship, professionally. "I'm sorry. That came out wrong."

"I believe it came out as exactly what it was: the truth." He moved his head to the side and pointed to a spot. "This is quite painful here."

"Thanks." She scanned the area to make sure she wasn't missing anything, and then went back to work. The ship lurched again and she felt his hand on her arm, steadying her. For a moment, they stayed like that, then he let go of her.

"You must be getting a mind-ful when you read me. You are reading me, right? I mean not because you're nosy but because you're Vulcan."

"I am. You are under stress and as you are human, negative emotions are to be expected. I have no concerns, however, as to your proficiency at caring for me."

"Good to know." She touched his scalp gently. "Better?"

"Yes."

"Good." She pulled a cleansing pad out and began to wipe the blood from his skin. Once she was finished, she checked for more bleeding, but the area seemed healed. She scanned again, finding an area with some deep tissue damage that she'd have to work on once they got to sickbay.

As she worked, she thought about how Spock had acted when he showed up on the ship—and when she'd left. Two polar extremes—neither, she thought, the real Spock.

"You must have been disappointed when Spock left that place—Gol, wasn't it?" she asked softly.

He didn't answer, and she could feel herself blushing. This was none of her business. Even if Spock had sort of made it her business by hitting on her in the most awkward way possible after V'ger had been dealt with.

Hitting on her after she'd witnessed that scene in sickbay between him and the captain, when she realized she'd always come second to Kirk no matter what Spock thought he wanted after the emotional enema that was V'ger. One of the reasons she'd left to go to med school in the first place was when she'd realized Spock could and did love—just not her.

"I'm sorry, Ambassador. What Spock did or didn't do is none of my business."

He was silent for so long, she thought he agreed with her. But then he said, "I was never in favor of his choice. Gol is for those who seek mastery of existing emotional control. Not for those who merely want an escape from inconvenient emotions."

"I'm not sure I see the difference."

For a moment, she saw something that seemed to be impatience in his face. Then it was gone.

"It is of no importance, Doctor Chapel. I should not have spoken so. My son—logic at times escapes me."

"Well, that makes two of us." She laughed softly. "I may have been interested in him once upon a time." A lie, of sorts. "May have been" implied a cessation of want and she'd never had the chance to get him out of her system. Maybe she should have said yes to him. Maybe the sex would have been bad and she could have moved on?

But maybe it would have been good? Although she didn't think she'd ever feel sure of him, given how he clearly felt about Kirk. She'd been with a man she couldn't be sure of—Roger had loved her, but he'd never loved only her. It had been the price of being with him, of being his chosen one. His partner in work and life.

But not always in bed.

"Spock was, I think, pleased that you were on the ship." Sarek actually seemed to be fishing.

"He told you that?"

"He told his mother. I may have overheard." He studied her, his look reminding her of how Roger used to assess her when she was trying to hide something from him. "Yet, you left. Is it not illogical to leave what has been long desired?" At her look, his lip almost ticked up. "His mother may have told me you were not unmoved by him."

"Not unmoved. Such a nice way to say that I made a fool of myself over him." She sighed and leaned against the corridor. "He wasn't himself after the meld with V'ger. I had no faith his interest would last. But it wasn't just him I left. I didn't want to recreate the last five-year mission, you know? I worked hard to become a doctor—to become qualified for CMO."

He nodded. "A double load, then, academically. Gaining your MD and learning the administrative policies and duties of being the chief medical officer."

She smiled. "And, like an idiot, I was doing an extra project in biochem—wanted to get it published and shut up the people who thought I slept my way to that assignment." At his look of surprise, she said, "I didn't. Decker trusted me. I don't know why; he just did. And I wanted that again. Here. As the boss. Color me ambitious, I guess."

"That is not a bad thing." He started to stand. "You should sit."

She pushed him down. "Belay that, Ambassador. You're the patient."

"A healed patient. Thank you for that. And you do not have to be so formal. Sarek will do."

She smiled. "And I'm Christine. And for the record, there's still work to do once we can get to sickbay so don't declare yourself healed just yet." She slid down the wall and sat on the floor across from him, knees pulled up—thank God for these new uniforms. The old mini-dresses would never have allowed her to sit like this and not flash someone. "What are you doing on the Danube?"

"Going home."

She smiled "Another successful mission?"

"No. This trip is indicative of the success I've had."

"Are they shooting at us because of you?"

"Quite possibly." He closed his eyes and leaned back again.

"That was a joke, right?"

He nodded.

"Did it hurt when you did that? Shaking your head, I mean, not the joke." She grinned.

"Ever the doctor." His lips ticked up again ever so slightly. "And no, it did not."

"Good. The scanner tells me a lot, but there's nothing like patient feedback." She sighed. "Who do you think is shooting at us?"

"I have no idea. This part of space is supposed to be quiet."

"Supposed to be. Three useless words." She laughed, but the sound came out a little bitter. So many things that weren't as she'd planned. Supposed to be Decker's CMO. Supposed to be a scientist. Supposed to be Roger's wife. Supposed to be fucking happy and accomplished.

She heard a loud beep over the intercom and smiled as she pushed herself up. "All clear, computer?"

"Affirmative."

"Sickbay awaits, Sarek. I'm not going to certify you as fit for duty until I've used a scanner I've calibrated on you." She made a face as she indicated the emergency station. "This did its job. But humor me, all right? I couldn't face Spock if I let anything happen to you."

"I doubt it would concern him overmuch. He and I are somewhat at odds these days."

"Are you ever not?" She grinned at his expression. "Seriously, Sarek. You two put the dys in dysfunctional."

"I make overtures."

"I'm not criticizing. Just stating a fact." And she had no room to judge given the nature of things with Jan.

"An observation, to be precise. And an accurate one."

She urged him out of the seat and re-stowed it. "Come on. I don't want to get stuck in here again in case our esteemed Captain Talbot finds another way to screw up our day."

He let out a puff of air she thought was his equivalent to a laugh.

"Don't like him either, huh?" she asked with a mean grin.

He let an eyebrow be her answer. "Are you claustrophobic? Is that why you eliminated access tubes as a means of travel?"

"No, and no. You were a little too wobbly to be climbing ladders." She grinned up at him and could tell he was slightly outraged that she'd lay the blame on him. "Well, maybe just an eensy bit claustrophobic. But you were wobbly."

His lips ticked up again and it made her smile.

She amused Sarek a hell of a lot more than she ever had his son.

##

Dead on her feet, Chapel stumbled into the mess, which was empty at this hour. Empty except for a certain Vulcan Ambassador. She walked over once she'd gotten some food and smiled at him. "Twice in one month? Did you do something to piss Starfleet off or do you prefer piece-of-crap ships?"

Len had tried to tell her not to take this posting; she'd give him credit for that. She'd been too busy following her dreams to realize they were leading her to a shithole of a billet.

Sarek lifted an eyebrow and said, "It is headed where I need to go." He pushed food around on a plate and looked to her eyes frankly...exhausted.

He had staff with him; she'd seen them with him earlier. But she got the feeling, despite the lack of company, that alone was not his preferred state.

"May I?" She nodded to a chair next to him.

"Please. I would welcome the company."

She studied him, and he seemed to try to pull some measure of serenity around him, but still all she saw was how tired he looked. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

He shook his head and pushed food around some more, finally actually eating some of it.

"Where's your staff?"

Instead of answering, he waved in the general direction of the visitor's quarters. It was astoundingly imprecise.

"You used to travel with your wife."

"Yes. I used to." He did not meet her eyes. "And occasionally still do."

"I don't understand. Is this a dangerous mission? Did it have to be unaccompanied?" Where the hell were they sending him that was too dangerous for a spouse and in the direction they were headed? Even given the fact that her captain had the ability to fuck up just about any meet-and-greet—she was unsure why he was still captain, although Elstrom told her he'd heard through his Command cronies that reassignment for their C.O. was imminent.

Even old ships deserved better treatment than the Danube was getting under their clueless leader. A clueless leader who was rarely seen in sickbay and certainly never sought her out for any kind of bonding, the way you'd expect a captain to do with the officer most likely to relieve him of duty. Not that she wanted to spend quality time with him, but it rankled the part of her that wanted to be valued — significant.

She'd gotten spoiled on the Enterprise, had seen a side of the fleet during her first posting that she assumed was the norm. And Kirk and Len's relationship was textbook. She might be mad as hell at her old captain for demoting her—and making Will tell her—but she understood why he did it.

Sarek pushed his plate away. "It is not dangerous. Amanda is...ill." He didn't meet her eyes.

"Ill?" She didn't want to ask any more than that. She was already tromping into his personal territory again.

Sarek took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, then said softly, "Cadmius Syndrome."

"Oh." She tried to hide the dismay she felt.

"I see from your expression that you know the disease. You are familiar with the prognosis?"

"I knew someone who had it." The father of a friend from school—he'd gone from vibrant to vegetative, but so very slowly, like the sand draining from an hourglass, leaving him and his family years to watch his health degrade before he became bedridden. And even then he'd lingered, in a half-comatose state, his eyes haunting her as she'd sat with her friend and told him about school because the doctors said he could possibly still hear them.

There'd be no light behind those eyes, that's what she remembered most—and then there would be, suddenly, a spark. A moment where he was back and he looked at her friend with so much love and pain it nearly broke her heart. "I'm so sorry, Sarek."

He nodded.

"Does Spock know?"

"No. She does not want anyone to know until it is impossible to hide. I should not have told you."

"I won't say anything. Not to anyone." She reached over and touched his hand, then immediately yanked it back. "I apologize. Sometimes my need to give comfort runs over my better judgment."

"I could tell your intentions were sincere. You are kind." He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "She has periods where she is entirely normal. It makes the other times more difficult. I never know which wife I will find at any given moment. And I cannot help her when she is sick."

"The meld...?" Again, such personal territory but something about him seemed so lonely—and so tense. Like he'd explode if he didn't talk to someone about this.

"The meld is of limited utility. It can be taxing for a partner who is ill, especially one with inadequate psi abilities to fully control their participation in the joining."

"Like a human?"

"Yes. Or many other species. Even some Vulcans, if they are atypical."

She sat quietly and ate some of her food, willing to let him dictate where the conversation went next, whether he kept it on Amanda or moved on to less personal things.

"I am used to her travelling with me. I...miss her."

"I'm sorry. I've heard that mated pairs are...bonded. Mind and spirit or some such thing." She smiled to let him know she realized much of what she'd heard might just be so much crap. "If you can feel her, can't you send relief in the form of...a caring presence."

"The bond exists, but it does not work like that. It is more an...energy linking us one to the other. The closer I am to her physically, the more I feel her presence. Except when she is having a flare. Then our connection...wanes. The medicine she takes makes her sleep very deeply and I can barely detect her." He shook his head. "I am tired. Too tired to exercise proper discretion. I should not be discussing this with you."

"Who else do you have to talk to about this? You send your staff away because you don't want them to know, right?" At his look of surprise, she smiled gently at him. "I don't need to be talented psychically to figure out your motivations."

He conceded her point with a nod.

"I'm here, Sarek. If you need to talk."

He slid out of the booth and gathered his tray. "I appreciate that, Christine. I think for now, however, I will leave you to eat in peace. Thank you for the company."

She nodded but thought that despite his nice words, she was probably running him off. Maybe he was afraid she was going to push for more unpleasant—and highly personal—truths.

Jesus, would she ever learn to keep her mouth shut and dial back her compulsion to take care of people? He didn't need her adding to the burdens of his day.

##

Chapel sat with Ny and Chekov in the bar of Starbase Seven, enjoying the opportunity to take advantage of their ships' similar area of operations and hang out like old times.

"No Jan?" Chapel had asked as they'd all hugged each other hello.

"She transferred off, Christine." Ny looked at her like she should have known.

"She what?"

"A week after you left."

Chapel wasn't sure what to say, knew her mouth was hanging open, and tried to recover.

"It's not the same without you, Christine." Pavel seemed to recognize her discomfort; his eyes were very gentle, but then they turned devilish. "I enjoyed seeing if you would ever make any progress with Mister Spock." He ducked as she swatted at him from across the booth. "In all seriousness, we do miss you."

"We do." Ny gave her the weird grin she'd been giving her all morning. It was mostly real, but she was hiding something.

"What doesn't she want to tell me, Pav?"

"That she is seeing Mister Spock." This time he didn't duck in time and Ny's hit landed solidly. "Assault of a fellow officer is a court-martial offense, Nyota. Please, I give up."

"Yeah, now that the cat's out of the bag." Ny gave Chapel the most sheepish look she'd ever sported in their many years of friendship. "Are you going to kill me?"

"Why would I kill you? I left. And I left after..." She knew Ny would know what she meant—she didn't want Pavel knowing Spock had made overtures.

Unfortunately, he ran further with the idea than that. "Did you sleep with him? Was it bad? Please tell me it was bad and that every woman's crush on him is wasted."

Chapel said, "I didn't sleep with him" at the same time Ny said, "It isn't bad." They both laughed while Pavel rolled his eyes.

"Sorry, Pav. Tall, dark, handsome and unattainable wins the day every time." She studied Ny, seeing the signs of happiness she should have recognized—and normally she would have because Ny would have been telling her everything. "You can talk to me about him. It's okay."

"I wasn't sure. I know Jan would kill me if it was the captain."

"I'm not Jan. And no she wouldn't." Although how the hell did she know what Jan would do?

"Oh, she would. She told me she would." Ny grinned, but Chapel felt a sting—she'd talked to Jan about this but not her? "I thought she was off the ship?"

"I'm a comms officer, Chapel. I can talk to whoever I want." Ny wore the smug "I work on the bridge and you don't" look that had pissed off any number of their fellow junior officers back in the day.

"Where is she?"

"On Earth at Officer Candidate School. Finally." Chapel had been there when Ny had lectured Jan on following through. Now she acted as if going to OCS was her idea, not Jan's.

The music changed, and Ny pulled Pavel off his stool. "I love this song. Spock won't dance. Come on. Christine, you come, too." She glanced at Chapel, but it looked like she wanted to get away from her and the uncomfortable conversation about Jan.

Chapel stood but then saw Sarek sitting by himself in the waiting lounge. He suddenly looked a lot easier to talk to than her friends. "You dance. I'll be right back."

"Suit yourself." She and Pavel headed for the dance floor where others were blowing off "Been on a ship for way too long" steam.

Chapel headed over to Sarek. "Hello there."

He looked up and his expression lightened. "I saw you with your friends. I did not want to intrude."

She sat. "They're otherwise occupied tripping the light fantastic." And keeping who knew what other secrets from her. Would there be more revelations? God, had she really thought this would be fun?

"Are you all right, Christine?"

"Just dandy." It was what Len said when he wanted you to leave him the hell alone. She hated that she'd picked that up from him. "Traveling with us again?"

He nodded.

Tucking her feet under her, she leaned in. "It's funny how you're never on the Enterprise. Avoiding Spock?" It would explain his predilection for choosing her piece-of-shit ship over the luxury of a newly refitted flagship.

"I would never admit that."

"I think you just did. The other answer is a simple 'no.'"

"Your ability to be logical is, at times, inconvenient." He took a deep breath and he looked...tired.

"Are you all right?"

"Amanda has been in a great deal of pain. It comes and go—we've been told that will be the case for years probably. But I cannot help her and as I have told you, the medicines make her...distant."

"Yeah, they can do that. It's often the price of pain relief."

"I mean beyond the normal physical reactions to them. It makes her presence in the bond much weaker even when she is right next to me. I am accustomed to knowing she is there. I...rely on it."

"I'm sorry." She saw that Ny and Pavel were back at their stools, looking her way. She'd much rather stay with Sarek than go back to them, but she didn't want to lose the few friends she actually did still have. "I've gotta go, but we can talk more at dinner, if you want?"

"I do not have the energy for a crowded mess."

"Then we'll eat in your quarters or mine." She smiled gently and touched his hand for the briefest of moments so he could feel how much she worried about him. She thought it might be welcome—even if it was also entirely intrusive—since he was having trouble sensing the woman he was bonded to.

"You do not have to take care of me, Christine."

"I know that. But you're my friend, aren't you?"

He looked over at her, his eyes almost sad. "I am."

They held the gaze for a long time until he finally nodded and said, "I would appreciate the chance to talk."

"Then I'll see you later. " She stood and nearly walked into a member of his staff. "Excuse me."

"Indeed," was the woman's answer as she pushed past her. "Ambassador, you asked to see the balance of payments report when it came in."

"Yes, T'Keya. Thank you." He held his hand out for the padd she carried.

Chapel left them to work and walked back to the others.

"I never know what to say around him." Ny pretend-shuddered. "He's so...unforgiving."

"I don't think that's the side Christine sees." Pavel was smirking.

"Pavel, shut up." Chapel rolled her eyes.

"What? You have shown you like Vulcans." His smirk grew bigger.

Until Ny whapped him for Chapel. "Pavel, shut up."

##

Chapel was enjoying a rare free day in San Francisco while the ship was in for refits—and for a new captain, who she would finally get to meet tomorrow with the rest of the senior staff. She was about to go into her favorite bakery when she saw Amanda coming down the street.

Amanda walked as she always did, with a grace probably learned over the years on Vulcan wearing robes, even though she was dressed like any other human civilian. She smiled at Chapel as she got closer.

"Christine. I'm so glad to see you. Sarek has told me you've been keeping him company when he has to ride on the Danube. Let me buy you a croissant and we can catch up." She gestured toward the bakery. "You were going in there, right?"

"I was." Chapel worked very hard to keep any sign of "I know you're sick" from her face. When she was a nurse, she'd grown used to not reacting to crewmen who'd been to see her for some embarrassing ailment, so she considered herself quite good at this. "I'd love the company."

They got settled and ordered, and Amanda smiled as she seemed to study her. "You look different."

"I'm older."

"Pfff. Aren't we all?"

"I'm in charge."

"That's it. What is it they call it in the fleet? Command presence?"

Chapel smiled because that was exactly what they called it, and she didn't honestly think she had it yet, but she wasn't going to argue. She certainly had more of it than she would have second-stringing it under Len. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome, my dear. Although I do have to say that I think Spock was disappointed you left the Enterprise."

Chapel did her best imitation of a Vulcan, only both eyebrows insisted on going up. "I doubt that lasted long since he's with Nyota now—you don't have to protect me. I know and I'm fine with it." She started to laugh. "And does he always confide in you about his, um, feelings?"

"Oh, God, no. It was that V'ger meld making him into a Chatty Cathy. And it's long since worn off. I only know he's involved with Nyota because Sarek ran into them together."

"That must have been interesting." Chapel didn't mention Ny's uneasiness around Sarek. It seemed like gossiping and she hated that. People had gossiped about Roger and her, even before they were together. It made it easier to just go for what she wanted: everyone thought she was anyway.

"Well, my son missed out, Christine. I want you to know I've always been rooting for you."

She laughed. "Kiss of death. When does he ever do what's expected?"

"Well, that's certainly been the case with what Sarek wanted him to do." Her smile grew mischievous. "But I may have talked about Starfleet when he was little. In rather glowing terms." She laughed gently, an "Imagine that?" look on her face and Christine laughed with her.

But then her expression changed, growing more somber, and she leaned in. "I really do appreciate you taking time for Sarek. I can't—don't travel with him anymore." She didn't quite meet Chapel's eyes. "A personal issue."

"It's no bother. But I think he misses you. I'm a poor stand-in."

"You think so? He seemed quite content the last time he was on the Danube." There was something off in Amanda's voice, something wistful and hurt, and Chapel wanted more than anything to just tell her she knew she was sick.

But she'd promised Sarek she wouldn't. And making herself feel less awkward was not worth the price of Amanda knowing her secret had not stayed with her husband.

So she sat in a weird silence, feeling like that girl again who'd fallen for her professor and had to hide it.

Finally Amanda asked, "How long will you be you on Earth?"

"We leave the day after tomorrow."

"You should come to the embassy tomorrow night, then. A trio from Irixa is playing. Quite fantastic. You wouldn't believe how many of my friends have commed, trying to finagle an invite. " Amanda shifted in her seat as if she was suddenly uncomfortable, then she closed her eyes.

"Are you all right?" Anyone would ask at this point—Chapel didn't have to have any inside knowledge, and she was a doctor, for cripe's sake. "Amanda?"

"A back spasm. Nothing to worry about."

She remembered how her friend's dad would get sudden pains when the disease started, turning a normal outing into a quick trip back home.

Amanda took a sip of her coffee and smiled. "I'm serious. It's nothing. Now, tell me you'll come to the embassy tomorrow? Wouldn't you like a chance to get gussied up in something other than a dress uniform? A shame Spock won't be there. See what he's missing." She winked and Chapel laughed, charmed by the woman's impish humor.

But then she saw Amanda wince again, and her amusement died. "You're clearly in pain. Maybe I can help?"

"I have help." Amanda turned her wrist over and Chapel saw that she was wearing a pain patch. She looked like she was about to make light again of what was going on, but then her expression changed to defeated. "Do you know what Cadmius Syndrome is?"

Chapel nearly sighed in relief: they were going to talk about it. "I do. Is that what this is?"

For a second, Amanda looked like she might say it wasn't, that she'd only asked for information's sake. But then she slumped a little and nodded.

"Oh. I'm sorry." She reached over and took her hand.

"So, you see, there's nothing you can do to help. Except come to the embassy tomorrow and spend time with us. I don't want anyone to talk about you and Sarek spending time behind my back. This will show I approve."

Was someone talking about them? Chapel could feel herself reddening. "There's nothing to approve of. We're friends. And just new ones. Not really that close."

"Sweetheart, I know. But there are always people who get pleasure in causing trouble. I simply have no time for that. Especially not when I will be less and less able to accompany my husband. It's ironic, but he's always had an easier time talking to me, a human woman, than the Vulcans that surround him. I'm sure the same is true of his ease with you. So, be that ear for him. It's what I want."

"Does he know there's gossip?"

"It's hard to keep a secret from a Vulcan you're bonded to when you're angry—and I was angry when I got wind of this." Her expression changed. "Oh, not at you, darling. I'm mad at people who can't resist sticking their nose in where it doesn't belong."

"Maybe I shouldn't come. I don't want to make this worse."

"Oh, shush. The best way to meet anything is head on." She smiled, a game smile, the smile of a human woman who'd had to face down probably every Vulcan she met when she and Sarek first started. "I'll tell Sarek I told you I was ill. It will be good for him to be able to talk about it to you." She finished her coffee quickly and pushed the barely touched croissant away. "I'm afraid I have to go. I have stronger medicine at home."

She motioned for the server, but Chapel murmured, "Amanda, I've got this."

"Thank you, dearest. Now, I'll see you tomorrow, yes? Nine o'clock." She stood and waved Chapel back into her chair when she started to get up, then pulled out a small personal communicator and hit a combo of keys. "A flitter is on its way. Enjoy the rest of the day." She walked off as if she hadn't a care in the world, as if each step wasn't painful.

Chapel felt a rush of admiration for her as well as a huge sense of relief that she didn't have to feign ignorance anymore.

But if she found out who'd decided she and Sarek were doing anything improper, she was going to rip them a new one.

##

The Irixan trio was amazing. Chapel smiled as she closed her eyes and let the music almost carry her away. It reminded her of a trip to Buenos Aires she and Roger had taken just before he'd left Earth. They'd eaten too much and had too much wine and danced the tango, even though neither of them knew how, but they didn't care.

She didn't think she'd ever feel that way again. Not because Roger had ruined her for anyone else, but because she'd changed too much looking for him. The girl who could throw herself into that relationship, who would uproot everything to go look for her man, was gone.

Also, that was their last trip before she found out he was sleeping with other women and was unapologetic about the fact. It was hard to try to replicate that level of closeness when she knew she was sharing the man she loved with whoever he fancied at the moment—even if he tired of them quickly. Even if he didn't tire of her.

It made her sad, at least while the music played, and she could remember how it felt to be young and in love—and betrayed but unwilling to leave. She'd made a trade. Fidelity could go as long as she benefitted. His wife, his collaborator and co-author, and someday, she had hoped, the mother of his children.

Feeling emotional, afraid she was about to cry, she eased away from the others, her silk dress swishing pleasingly. She'd bought it on Risa and never had a chance to wear it since. It was modest but flattering, managing to be forgiving of problem areas but still enhancing the bits that should be highlighted. Amanda had been right: it felt good to get dressed up.

She walked into a courtyard, and then realized someone was standing behind her. Turning, she saw Sarek.

"You left the room quite precipitously. Are you all right?"

She smiled and blinked a few times. "The music is evocative."

"Yes, it is." He inhaled slowly, as if in meditation, and she wondered what emotions it had stirred up in him, what memories of his life with Amanda. "My wife told you she was sick."

She nodded. "But I didn't tell her that you'd told me. I didn't think you'd want me to."

"Thank you." He turned and she thought he was watching Amanda, who was smiling and doing a fabulous job of appearing to not be anything but perfectly healthy.

"She's remarkable, Sarek."

"Yes, she is."

The music changed, became sadder and deeper, and she could tell it was affecting Sarek. "Are you all right?"

"If I were not, I would be indulging emotions in a way unbefitting a Vulcan and doing no honor to my role as her husband. I must be strong."

"Maybe you shouldn't have invited Irixans to play, if that's the case."

He nodded, a small sigh escaping him. "I will remember that the next time my staff suggests booking them."

"Good plan." From what she could see, the rest of the Vulcans seemed to merely be appreciating the music as they would any other. None seemed particularly emotional.

How isolated was this man? Surrounded by fellow Vulcans who knew nothing of his pain. She imagined Sarek would do anything to keep it that way.

She realized a Vulcan woman was watching them, and her expression was a little stonier than the others. She looked familiar. "Who is that? In the light green robe."

Sarek glanced casually around the room then said, his voice tight, "T'keya. She is on my staff." Something changed in his expression, his lips tightening, his color darkening—was he blushing? Or was he angry?

"Does she not like you—or me?"

"She no doubt wonders why I am talking with you alone like this. She has remarked to Amanda on my choice of ships—how frequently I choose the Danube. The suitability of such a choice."

Holy shit—the gossip was a Vulcan? She'd seriously suspected Pavel.

She decided to play dumb. "Not sure I follow. Something wrong with the Danube?"

He looked disappointed in her. "My wife invited you here tonight. For a very specific reason. She is attempting what she termed an end-run to cut off any speculation."

She sighed. "If I'm causing a problem, then I'm sorry. I can remove myself—"

"You can enjoy the evening as our guest, as my wife intended." He indicated she should walk further into the courtyard. "And she will show anyone who is concerned that our friendship—that any private conversation we wish to have, such as now—is no threat to her or our relationship."

Chapel glanced back. Amanda was at the doorway and she gave a little wave, her smile brilliant. Was it a good day for her pain wise or was she that good an actress? "Should I be worried that neither of you appear to be concerned about how I feel about all this gamesmanship?"

"We are doing this as much for you as for ourselves."

She leaned in. "I was engaged to my advisor. It was a relationship that was frowned upon. I had to lie. I had to pretend. I had to do any number of things to keep his reputation from being sullied." Her reputation, on the other hand, was never Roger's concern. "I did it because I loved him. But worrying about stupid people saying stupid things isn't something I want to deal with again." Even if plenty of people had said it about Will and her. They'd been wrong, but they'd been certain. Bad combination. And looking back, those rumors might have been why the best ships hadn't lined up for her. She should have waited, served some time as deputy under a captain no one thought she was sleeping with, then made the switch with better options to choose from.

He moved closer. "We did not wish to upset you."

"It's just...it was bad enough when the rumors were true. But I'm just..." She realized she was tearing up—what the hell was wrong with her? "I mean, we're friends, right?"

"Yes."

"But on the ship. Friends there. Here...this feels weird." She saw an exit on the far side of the courtyard, one that led to the cloakroom and the way out. "Please, tell Amanda I enjoyed the music greatly."

"You do not have to leave, Christine."

"I think I do. I really think I do." She laughed and it wasn't a pretty sound. She wanted to find her friends and talk and have them tell her she was being stupid. But Ny was with Spock, and Jan—who the hell knew what she was doing? Still not answering Chapel's comms.

Why didn't she have more friends? Why was she always content with just a few close ones? It worked great until they were gone.

Sarek turned her and said softly, "Is there something else bothering you? This seems a minor thing to become emotional over."

"I'm a fucking human. We're emotional." She could feel her face reddening. "I mean—"

"Your meaning was quite clear." He sounded amused rather than offended. "Do you think I have never heard that word before? In worse ways than how you used it?" He touched her arm, letting his hand lie on her skin. "You are unhappy. Generally, not just about this."

She jerked free of his stupid telepathic hands. "Leave it alone."

"So only I am expected to share unpleasant truths?" He cocked his head and waited.

She finally said, "I don't like my job."

"Your posting, you mean? You seem to enjoy practicing medicine. And the posting will improve. Captain Talbot is being replaced by Captain Carson, is he not? "

"A man who, when introduced to me, called me a 'another refugee from the Enterprise' and then proceeded to ignore me for the rest of the 'get to know your new captain' meeting. I'm his goddamned CMO and he completely snubbed me." She closed her eyes. "Stupidest thing I did was flee the Enterprise."

"I disagree. I believe it was the wisest choice you could make given the circumstances. Carson will learn you are a fine officer and a person he can trust. Just as Captain Decker did. Just as I did." Sarek's voice was very gentle. "Give him a chance to surprise you."

"Surprise? A Vulcan advocating surprise?"

"It is unexpected, but also excellent advice, do you not agree?"

She nodded grudgingly.

"Go rest. I also sensed you are very tired."

"I am." She tried to give him a game smile. "It's making me stupidly emotional. I'm sorry."

"Do not be. Go. Rest. So you can be the competent officer we both know you are." With a last, gentle look, he turned and walked away.

She got her wrap from the young Vulcan manning the cloakroom and left, then pulled out her personal communicator and commed Jan. She just wanted to catch up, maybe get a drink and relax a little with someone who knew her from before—and wasn't dating her old crush.

"The person you have called is not available. Please leave a message."

She didn't.

##

Chapel was just finishing up some reports when she sensed someone in her doorway. Turning, she saw Sarek. "Long time, stranger. Avoiding me?"

"I thought it prudent to give you...space."

She laughed at the pun, if that's what he meant it as. "You didn't need to. I'm sorry I got upset at your party." She waved him into her office. "Take a load off."

He looked...tired. Haggard, even, for a Vulcan.

"Bad spell for Amanda?"

He nodded but seemed unwilling to go into it further than that.

"I'm sorry."

Again the nod.

"Are you mad at me?"

"Anger is an emotion." His voice lacked conviction, and even he seemed to realize it because he looked contrite. "I...I have missed talking to you."

She imagined he had. Who else could he talk to about what was going on with his wife? Chapel had provided a release and now it was gone, and he was probably feeling irritated. "I'm sorry."

He closed his eyes for a moment—a great concession to how comfortable he felt with her, she thought—and let his breath out in what was almost a sigh.

"I really am sorry, Sarek. I didn't mean you had to find a new ship to ride on. Or that you couldn't talk to me."

He didn't open his eyes, just gave her an almost defeated nod. Then he seemed to pull himself together, becoming the Vulcan ambassador before her eyes, the steely expression, the straight posture. She smiled gently to let him know she understood, that she appreciated his strength—or his ability to simulate it during a bad time.

"Has your relationship with Carson improved?" he finally asked.

"No. And I found out he's got his own person he wants in this slot and has been looking for a way to gracefully remove me. In a moment of startling synchronicity, Starfleet Medical wants me back—to teach a special course in emergency medicine to non-medical personnel—so I can conveniently save him the trouble of a 'Run Chapel out of town' campaign. They seem to think my experience as both nurse and doctor makes me uniquely qualified to teach average Joes how to patch up their comrades when they're parsecs from a med unit." Her voice held a trace of rancor she didn't mean to be there, but wasn't going to apologize for.

"I imagine it will be an excellent opportunity."

She cocked her head and gave him her best "Don't bullshit me" look.

"Or Carson may have a friend in Starfleet Medical who engineered this."

"Far more likely." She laughed, the sound just an angry puff of air. "I really should have stayed on the Enterprise." Except what would that have been like? Watching Spock and Ny happy? Working for McCoy...again.

Sarek met her eyes. "We are both unhappy, then."

"Seems like." Then she realized how selfish she was being. He was losing his wife to a long-term illness. She was just in a career slump. "But I'll be okay. Will you?"

"I am Vulcan. It is in my DNA to be...okay." He lifted an eyebrow, and it showed how little he believed the party line.

"You can always talk to me, you know. I'll be easy to find. May even have my own office."

He nodded, his eyes gentle. "It is a kind offer. I have appreciated your willingness to let me speak of personal matters.""

There was something final in the way he said it. Like he appreciated it but wasn't going to take advantage of her friendly ear anymore.

Maybe it was easier to unload secrets in space, where his wife was far away, to a woman he wouldn't happen to run into on Earth. He could vent and forget it until the next time he needed to unload.

She nodded her understanding.

But it still stung.

##

It was strange being on Earth after so many months on the Danube. Strange but good. She enjoyed the solid feel of her home planet under her feet and didn't miss the constant vibrations of the ship or the not-quite-fresh tang of recycled air. And she sure as hell didn't miss the captain or crew.

Which she knew was as much her fault as anyone else's. There were no doubt some very nice people on board, people who would have made fine friends, but she'd been of no mind to seek them out. Maybe she'd always sensed the job wasn't going to be one she should get too comfortable in.

She felt the same way about the course Starfleet had asked her to teach, it already had the feel of "been there, done that" to her.

And truth to tell, she missed seeing Sarek—or perhaps more accurately missed the time alone she'd had with him. He'd become a friend—an important one. He might think she'd been the one helping him, but he'd done a lot to keep her sane while she was on the ship. She saw him in the corridors of Starfleet Command frequently enough, and he always gave her a gentle nod, even stopped a few times to see if she prospered. But then they moved on and life went back to normal.

Sharing time was over. At least no one would be gossiping about them anymore.

She was heading back to Starfleet Medical after grabbing lunch in one of the auxiliary cafeterias, when she saw blonde hair and the familiar walk of her friend. "Jan?"

Jan didn't turn around, but Chapel was sure she saw her almost jerk, so she hurried past people and said, "Hey. Wait."

Jan slowed but didn't look at her, but from the side her jaw was tight. "I've got to get back. They don't give us long for lunch."

"OCS they? The place you didn't tell me you'd transferred to."

She turned and her expression, if anything, got colder. "Yeah. I'm in it. Finally." She seemed to put on speed.

"Jan, Jesus, wait. I haven't seen you for how long?"

"Well, now you have." The bite in Jan's voice gave the Arctic a run for frigidity.

A vague sense of panic filled her, a sense of being alone while surrounded by hundreds of people hurrying off to do important and difficult things. And she was teaching people how to fucking use a regenerator in zero-G? Her voice was way more pathetic than she wanted it to be when she said, "I thought you'd be happy I was back."

Jan's expression finally opened up a little. "I am. It's just...OCS is hard, you know. Takes up a lot of time."

She knew a bullshit excuse when she heard it. Jan could make time for her if she wanted to—she was one of the quickest studies she knew. "Right. I'm sure you're doing nothing but cramming for OCS finals." She turned, and was surprised at the way Jan grabbed her, the almost painful tightness of her grip as she pulled them out of the main traffic pattern and into a side corridor.

"You're the one who spent all the quality hours in school, Christine. You know how much work it is. Or is OCS not quite the same thing as your gazillion PhDs?" There was a note of something other than professional hurt under her voice. A note Chapel didn't understand.

"Why are you mad at me? What did I do?"

"I saw you with him."

"With who? With Spock?" Is that what had Jan up in arms—that she'd seen Chapel leaving Spock's quarters the night he'd wanted her to stay? She hadn't stayed—she'd left the ship instead. And she'd told Jan she was going to. What would piss Jan off about that?

"Not Spock." Jan's expression tightened. "Besides, Ny's with Spock. Happy with him, in point of fact."

If it was meant to hurt, it did. Chapel looked away. "Then who the hell are you talking about?"

"Who the hell do you think I am?" She crossed her arms over her chest. "The captain."

"If this is about Will—"

"My captain, Christine. James T. Kirk. I waited for you to tell me and you never did. You transferred off, bitching the whole time about Spock as if I believed that was the reason."

"What?" Jan was talking about Kirk? What the hell?

"You were walking out of a bar with him. You were arm and arm—looked extra special cozy."

Chapel thought back. "Oh, shit, Jan. He'd taken me to meet Decker. He was pissed off at life in general and his wife in particular and got really drunk. He thought he had antitox with him but didn't—and neither did we. Will asked me to make sure he got home okay."

"So you tucked him in and made him warm antitox milk with a sex chaser?" The sarcasm oozing from Jan's voice wasn't something Chapel was accustomed to being on the receiving end of.

"No, I left him with his goddamned doorman and went home. You thought I was sleeping with Jim Kirk and all this time you never said anything?"

Jan finally seemed to drop some of her attitude, possibly at the sheer bewilderment Chapel knew had to be on her face.

In what universe would she sleep with James "T. is for 'Tonight's the Night'" Kirk?

"You really didn't?"

Chapel shook her head. "Why didn't you just ask me?"

"You were distant, Christine. From the moment Decker picked you. It was like suddenly you were in some new strata—one that didn't include me. And then Decker was dead and you were leaving the ship, so I thought Kirk was enforcing his 'Not in the Nest' policy and that's why you were fleeing. The whole thing with Spock coming on to you and you deciding he'd never love you enough...? The Christine I knew would have made him love her. So...what the hell was I supposed to think?"

So...this was her fault? Chapel rubbed her forehead, suddenly way too tired to deal with this. "I fled because of Spock, but not just because of him." And she hadn't stopped fleeing. Was teaching going to be any better than the Danube? Not that she'd had a lot of choice—Carson would have gotten her off his ship one way or another.

"Did you leave because Ny wanted Spock? Any fool could see she was into him." There was still a trace of acid in Jan's voice, like jabbing ugly truths into Chapel was a goal.

"Because a guy is the only reason to leave? Oh wait, that's why you just left the ship, right? Again?" Something broke inside her, something dark and lonely and angry as hell. "The man you can't get. But a man I bet would break his rule in a second for the right woman." She stopped herself just short of saying for a smarter one.

But Jan seemed to know it. "I'm late." She turned and hurried off.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Chapel leaned against the wall and held her hand up; she was shaking.

What the hell was wrong with her?

And who the hell was she going to talk to about it?

She closed her eyes and breathed in and out slowly, the way she used to when something had happened in the lab with Roger, when she'd had no one but him to talk to. When she'd been simultaneously in love and isolated—all her friends left behind by the lying and her precipitous rise.

She closed her eyes. Her rise. She was used to climbing high and fast. Was it so impossible for Jan to realize that Chapel was ambitious? That she probably would have had tenure at a university by now? That she could have been someone in the community that came first in her heart: science.

But she'd traded that community in for this one. For Starfleet. She'd risen once—Will had put her on the fast track—and she'd do it again. She'd be the best damn teacher Starfleet Medical had ever had and keep her eyes open for other opportunities, better ones, ones that would get her what she wanted: rank, significance, and the ability to make a difference.

And this time she wouldn't do it riding on the coattails of a man.