Title: Standing in the Doorway - Chapter Six - COMPLETE
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: They are not mine. 'Tis a pity, really. The title is taken from Going to Georgia by the Mountain Goats. There is a quote in this that is not mine either!
Summary: The continuing tales of the Starship Enterprise and her CMO and Head Nurse.
A/N At the end of the chapter!
Previously...
The humidity increased as she got close to a long table filled with potted plants and flowers. Christine smiled a little at the multitude of colors and patterns. One plant in particular had entwined itself with the plant next to it. Christine stepped closer to take a look. Then she frowned. The plant hadn't just entwined with its neighbor, it was connected to it. The vines had merged with the others, actually grown into each other. As her eyes scanned the plants, more and more odd patterns came into light. A heavy feeling settled in her stomach. The bright red of one plant drew her eyes. She tightened her grip on the tricorder in her hand. The petals weren't simply petals, they were complex branches of red, which swirled and interconnected in ways that she had never seen before. Except once. On the brain scan of an ensign currently lying in sickbay. The sound of a footstep behind her broke the silence. "Nurse Chapel, isn't it?"
Christine whirled around at the sound of the measured voice behind her. Dr. Davies stood a few feet away, between her and the door, with a patient expression on his face. Christine decided her best bet would be to try to talk her way out.
"Dr. Davies! I'm sorry to intrude, but the door was open," she said, hoping the thrumming of her pulse wasn't obvious. "I found this, in sickbay." She held up the tricorder, but didn't hand it over.
Davies looked at it and smiled. "Oh, I had wondered where that disappeared to. It has some very valuable information on it. Thank you." He tilted his head and studied her still smiling. "You didn't have to come all the way down here, though."
"Oh, well," Christine said edging a little to the left. "It's always nice to see a different part of the ship."
"Of course," he said. His eyes darted past her to glance at the flowers. "Do you like my flowers?"
"Oh, yes, they're very lovely," Christine said. "I'm impressed with their, ah, complexity."
Davies' eyes brightened. "You noticed that? How wonderful. They were my first challenges."
"Challenges?" Christine asked despite her inner voice screaming at her to 'Get out!'.
"Oh, yes," Davies said. "I struggled so much at first. I knew I was right, but how to test it? I really had some difficulties."
"You knew you were right about what, exactly?" Christine asked.
Davies switched his gaze back to her. "That our minds are capable of so much more than we are aware of."
"Uhura. Anything?" Kirk asked.
"No, captain," Uhura said. "Dr. Davies is not responding. It looks like his lab communicator has been disabled."
"Well, that's not at all suspicious," McCoy said dryly.
"Perhaps we should pay Dr. Davies a visit," Spock said. "In the name of polite inquiry, of course."
Kirk smirked a little and said, "Good idea, commander. Dr. Havers, would you be kind enough to accompany us?"
"Yes, I would," Havers said. "I have to say, I hope you're wrong about him. He's a fine scientist."
"I hope we're wrong as well," Kirk said. "Bones, you up for it?"
"Like you'd know the right questions to ask the guy," McCoy said. "Just let me advise sickbay."
McCoy walked over to the comm station next to Uhura's. "McCoy to sickbay."
There was a pause then one of the nurses answered. "Sickbay here, doctor."
McCoy frowned. "Nurse Walters? Where's Chapel?"
"Nurse Chapel had to run an errand, doctor. She said she'd be back shortly."
"Errand? What kind of errand?"
"She found a spare tricorder and it was identified as belonging to one of the scientists in the physics department. Davies, I think. She went to return it to him."
McCoy felt a coldness spread down his spine and stomach turned. He lifted his head and looked at Kirk. "Jim--"
"We got it, Bones," Kirk said. "Uhura, alert security and have them send a couple of guys to the lab. Gentlemen, let's go."
Christine felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and a frisson of anxiety ran over her skin at Davies' tone.
"You see, Nurse Chapel, I have always believed that humans are not merely pieces of hardware, we're not machines," he said his face contorted into a moue of distaste. "People actually believe that they could whittle the mind down to an algorithm. An equation! Our minds are so much more complex than that. The things we could accomplish. See, we don't have to think linearly. So what if we just alter the rhythm of our minds? We could achieve such intelligence. I've seen how it can work in plants. Look at them. They're growing, thriving, and so healthy. They just needed a nudge."
"I see," Christine said her hand gripping the tricorder tightly. "And I take it you felt the need to experiment on a, shall we say, larger scale?"
"I do realize I should have asked permission," Davies said. "But, it would have been refused. So, you see, I had to do what I did. I'm sorry about the side effects. I hadn't realized memory loss would occur. That was an unexpected outcome. But..." The man simply shrugged. "I'm sorry I had to resort to petty methods to see the outcomes of the experiments. I'll apologize to Dr. McCoy for looking at his files. But, I had to know how the subjects responded."
Christine made another slight edge to the left, she could see the door fully now. "I have to admit, the scans we took were truly incredible, so I've seen the results of your experiments, but I am curious - exactly how did you um nudge the ensigns?"
"Oh, you're holding it," Davies said nodding at the tricorder in Christine's hand. She blanched. Davies nodded. "It's a simple modification. The subject just has to use it for a certain period of time and the quantum field in the mind is adjusted. What's so amazing is that I kept it on the lowest setting and the subjects were exposed for only a brief amount of time. I'd love to see what happens with a more prolonged exposure."
He looked away and pulled something out of his back pocket. It was a tricorder with a familiar line of pale blue on the side. "I do appreciate you bringing the tricorder down. It was very kind of you. Would mind just holding still for a few minutes?"
Davies aimed the tricorder at Christine.
Without hesitation, Christine flung the tricorder she held in her hand at the scientist's face and darted past him. She didn't stop to see if her aim was true, but she did hear a pained grunt behind her as she raced for the door.
The doors slid open as she approached and she ran headlong into McCoy as he and the others entered the lab.
"Damn it, woman!" he said grabbing her upper arms, his face somewhere between relieved and furious. "Do you have to get into everything?"
"It's the tricorders," Christine said ignoring McCoy's admonishment. "That's the trigger."
She looked over her shoulder and saw Davies holding a hand up to his face. He lowered it and she saw that the tricorder had managed to hit his nose as it was bleeding sluggishly.
McCoy pushed her behind him and Kirk, Spock and two members of security stood a short distance away from Davies. The scientist shakily held up the tricorder and aimed it at the group.
"Davies!" Dr. Havers said looking pained. "I don't... You experimented on our colleagues! Why? To what end?"
"For knowledge," Davies said. "And it worked! Look at them! The analysis Simmons came up with is brilliant. This will revolutionize everything! How we think, why we think. Nothing will be out of reach!"
"At the expense of losing pieces of their lives?" McCoy asked. "My god, man! That's barbaric!"
"It's a small price to pay for knowledge," Davies said lifting his chin while drops of his blood stained his shirt. "I can adjust things, I'm sure. Over time, there won't be quite as much memory loss. I can--"
"I'm afraid, Dr. Davies, that you won't be doing anything further," Kirk said. "You willfully and deliberately experimented on members of my crew and as a result, they have suffered greatly for it. You will be taken to the brig and then it will be up to Starfleet to decide what to do with you."
"What? No!" Davies said looking confused. "You need me."
"I believe that is an inaccurate statement, Dr. Davies," Spock said. "While your hypothesis is intriguing, your methods leave much to be desired. I suggest you hand over the tricorder."
"If I refuse?" Davies asked.
"Then you leave us no choice," Kirk said quietly. "We'll stun you if we have to. I'd really rather we didn't have to."
"I have to say, I'd rather you didn't as well," Davies said with a sad smile. "Well, that's that, I suppose."
Davies looked at the tricorder and in a sudden motion he aimed the device directly at his own forehead.
Kirk shouted and the two security officers made ready to stun the scientist.
McCoy quickly yelled, "No! Don't fire! We don't know what it could do!"
One of the security team made a movement towards the scientist, but McCoy shouted again, "No! Don't go near him!"
Just as McCoy's voice died off, Davies went absolutely still. His fingers went lax and the tricorder slipped from his grasp and clattered to the floor. His arm remained in front of his face. McCoy took a cautious step forward.
"Bones--" Kirk said.
"No, Jim, it's okay. He's not going to do anything," the doctor said. He kicked the tricorder on the floor away and stood in front of Davies. "Damn it, man, what have you done to yourself?"
Davies didn't respond.
"Dr. Davies?" McCoy said. "Davies! Can you hear me?"
No response.
Christine edged forward as did Spock and the captain and when she saw Davies' face up close, she gasped.
The man's facial muscles had gone slack and his mouth was slightly open, and he was breathing shallowly. But it was his eyes that chilled Christine to the bone.
The irises had taken on the same odd branching patterns his plants and the brain scans had shown and they were moving in quick, sharp twitches. In fact, they were moving in sync with each other, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.
McCoy waved a hand in front of the man's face. But the eyes never ceased their unnatural saccade, just continued to oscillate.
"He looks like he's experiencing REM sleep," she said quietly.
"Indeed he does, nurse," Spock said.
"However, he's not asleep," McCoy said grimly. Gently, he took hold of Davies' arm and with a light pressure was able to move it down to rest at his side. "It's like a catatonia. I'll need to run some tests, but I'm inclined to believe there's a massive amount of brain activity going on in there."
"And yet, he is unable to share it," Spock said. "Indeed, he may never be able to share it."
The horror of what Davies had done to himself made Christine nauseous.
"Davies," Dr. Havers said shaking his head. "This wasn't the way."
McCoy sighed in agreement. Kirk stepped back to talk to the security officers and Spock continued to observe the silent and still Davies.
Christine just watched his eyes as they continued to move back and forth, back and forth, back and forth…
One week later...
Christine rested her head in her hand and looked down at her plate.
"You're thinking about them aren't you?"
She raised her head and smiled at McCoy across the table. He smiled back.
"It's hard not to," she said. Then she grimaced. "Oh, heck. We promised no shop talk and look at me, maudlin over our patients."
They were in Christine's quarters, finally having the home-made dinner Christine had promised, after postponing it several times due to the Davies situation. She'd decided on comfort food and made red beans and rice with Orion sausages and crusty bread.
McCoy brought a very good bottle of red wine, with an apologetic, "It's from Jim, actually. I think he thinks I'm incapable of making a good impression on my own."
Christine had simply kissed his cheek, thanked him and refrained from comment; but had secretly admired the way his civilian shirt emphasized his shoulders. She was wearing a simple green dress with thin straps that left her arms bare and skimmed her calves. Christine had caught him more than once eyeing her neckline.
McCoy grinned and leaned his elbows on the table. "Chris, it's who we are. Do you think I'd want to be around someone who didn't care as much as you do about your patients?"
She felt a blush start in her cheeks and ducked her head. "I just feel sorry for all of them. Including Karen."
"She's going with him, isn't she?" McCoy asked.
"She says that she would hate herself forever if she didn't at least try to help with Mark's treatment," Christine said. "So yes, she's going with them when we rendezvous at the outpost."
"What a mess," McCoy said.
After Davies' dramatic actions, Starfleet had been contacted immediately. After a multitude of tests had been run and all of Davies previous research had been pored over, McCoy revealed his prognosis.
It wasn't pretty.
According to Davies' notes, the modification to the brain was meant to be permanent, as it was with the plants he'd experimented on. There was a slim chance that the effects might fade over time, and so the two ensigns were being sent back to Earth to undergo therapy and treatments. Apparently, Nurse Medina was going back with them as Ensign Roberts would often experience fits of anxiety in her absence.
The situation with Davies was far more serious. While Starfleet saw no need to charge him with any criminal wrongdoing, due to his current health, he had been stripped of his doctorate. However, it was still unclear as to whether anything he was told actually got through to him.
He'd lost all voluntary motor function. He could move if physically prompted, but he'd certainly never be able to care for himself again. As it was, there was no way to access the thoughts behind the man's ever twitching eyes.
McCoy tore off a piece of bread and shook his head.
"Great," Christine said taking a sip of wine. "Now I've got you thinking. I'm sorry, Len."
"Oh, hush," he said. "It was a messed up week, it's pretty natural to think about it."
"Well, not anymore," she said sitting upright. "Tell me something."
"What do you want to know?" he asked the corner of his lips quirking.
Christine tilted her head and grinned. "Everything."
McCoy took a sip of his own wine. "That's a tall order. And you know about most of my skeletons already."
"So, tell me something new," she said with a wave of her hand. "We can do our respective remaining skeletons another night."
"We-ell, it's kind of close to being shop talk, but did you see the latest feed about environmental factors inhibiting certain vaccines?" he asked.
"Ooh, hitting me with vaccine-talk," Christine said. "And Jim says you have no skills with the ladies."
McCoy actually blushed.
They chatted comfortably while they finished dinner. McCoy helped her take the dishes to her small kitchen area.
He leaned against the counter while she got dessert ready.
"Chapel, is that pecan pie?" he asked watching her stir up a small bowl of cream.
"Sort of," she said. "It's not exactly easy to find pecans in the far reaches of space. So, these are from Stavros V. They taste remarkably similar."
"Did you make sure—"
"That they went through a vigorous cleansing process in which they were tested for any and all possible parasites, viruses, bacteria and anything else I could think of?" Christine supplied with an arch look over her shoulder. "Yes. They were."
She turned back to her bowl while McCoy chuckled. "All right, fine. I guess I can be a little…"
"Predictable?" she said. "Only a little."
Christine set the bowl aside and started to slice pieces of the pie, when a warm hand slid over her hip. She froze as McCoy's lips brushed against the side of her throat. A little gasp escaped as he kissed his way up her neck and then nipped gently at her ear. Christine shivered and turned her head to look him in the eyes. He leaned in and ghosted his lips over hers. Christine involuntarily moved to follow him as he pulled away.
"Guess I'll have to work on that," he said.
"It felt good to me," she said dazedly.
McCoy smirked. "I meant being predictable." Then he gave her a wink. "I feel pretty confident about the rest." He took the two plates of pie and headed into her living room.
Christine made a face at his back and shook her head, then followed him.
Pie was eaten, McCoy had seconds, and they discussed the ongoing saga that was Scotty and his quest for a decent whiskey.
"His latest attempts haven't been half bad," McCoy said stretching his arm across the back of the sofa, his fingers absently playing with Christine's hair. "At least, I haven't felt like I was burning up from the inside out after I tried it."
"Charming," Christine said with a laugh. "You'll have to take me sometime."
"It's a date," he said his voice going quiet and his eyes studying her.
"Is this the point where we should discuss what's going on and how to proceed?" Christine asked.
"Probably," he admitted. "We should decide how we want to do this."
"Right," she said with a nod. "We should be responsible and set parameters and guidelines as this could very well affect our working relationship."
"Good point," McCoy said. "We have to be reasonable and orderly."
"Discuss a plan, perhaps," Christine suggested, "and work out all the little details."
"We really should," McCoy agreed.
Christine fussed with the hem of her dress and dared a look at McCoy who was staring at her hands. He lifted his eyes to hers. Their eyes met and Christine found it incredibly hard to breathe.
"Or we could say the hell with it and make out like teenagers," Christine offered in a rush of words.
"Sounds like a plan," McCoy said in a low voice before pulling her into his arms.
An hour later and Christine was pinned to her sofa with McCoy halfway on top of her. Her lips were swollen and her hair was a mussed mess due to McCoy's inability to keep his hands away from it. A strap of her dress was off her shoulder and his shirt was unbuttoned halfway to his navel. McCoy was currently kissing her collarbone with a single-minded determination, while she arched her back in pleasure.
Christine threaded her hands in his hair and pulled a little to bring his lips back to hers.
"I should go," he said in between deep kisses. "Early shift."
"I know," she said as she dug her nails into his back. "Me too."
"So, I should go?" he asked before sliding a hand up her thigh.
"Oh, yeah," she said rolling her hips. "You really should."
McCoy pulled away a little and looked at her. "Tell me to go, Christine."
She bit her lip and cupped the side of his face. "You really, really should go, Len."
He gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut. "Do you think you could say that in a way that doesn't sound like sin?"
Christine giggled and raised herself up to kiss him chastely on the lips. "Go, Len."
"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. "I'm going."
He gingerly got to his feet and held a hand to help Christine to hers. She smiled at the sight of his rumpled shirt and hair standing in different directions. He simply raised an eyebrow and slowly slid her strap back into place.
"Feel like a drink tomorrow?" he asked.
"Definitely," Christine said. "Maybe I can show you two where you're going wrong."
"If anyone could, it'd be you," he said pulling her close and kissing her neck.
Christine walked him to the door. It opened and McCoy turned to look at her.
"Dinner was amazing," he said. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," she said. "I'm glad you came by."
"Me too." McCoy leaned in for one final kiss and then turned to leave. But, he turned back at the last second. He furrowed his brow. "We can make this work, can't we?"
"Yeah," Christine said. "We really can."
He grinned brilliantly at her and kissed her again, and then he headed down the corridor. Christine let the door slide shut and then leaned against it. Her fingers tentatively traced her lips. As her index finger made another pass over her bottom lip, she started to smile and felt the familiar giddy warmth spread throughout her body.
Oh, yes. This was definitely going to work.
the most remarkable thing about you standing in the doorway, is that it's you
and that you're standing in the doorway
A/N: The End! I cannot thank everyone enough for sticking with this story. All of your comments and cheerleading and speculations have spurred me on like nothing else. A very, very HUGE thank you to fringedweller for betaing this little beast. I also need to thank my husband for giving me the idea in the first place. It's thanks to his mini-lectures in quantum mechanics that most of this story exists! Any errors in the actual application are mine.
There will be a sequel! The final story in the Going to Georgia series. So do stay tuned for The World Throws its Light in which Dr. McCoy and Nurse Chapel navigate the treacherous waters of a relationship. However, this proves difficult when one of them goes missing...
See you soon!