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The woman who transported to the surface was not a Starfleet officer, not a nurse, not an accomplished researcher with numerous degrees. No, the moment she felt terra firma beneath her feet and took her first breath of fresh, un-recycled air in months, she was just…Christine. She had dressed in a light green sun dress and sandals, her hair held back with a matching hair band. With her she carried a basket lunch. Just a girl out for a relaxing picnic lunch by the lake, she tried to convince herself. She almost convinced herself.
And while she had argued with Uhura and Rand about scheduling time planet-side while they were in Omicron Delta, which was affectionately known merely as “Shore Leave“, she did have to admit that at least they were right that the fresh air would be good for her. She still thought the rest of their plan was, at best, bizarre, if not downright, obscene.
“Shore Leave” is just what you need, Christine. I know you -- normally I’d suggest Rigel for a problem like yours but since you only have eyes for Spock, this is your best bet.”
She still couldn’t believe she allowed herself to be talked into it. At least she had made sure that she had been scheduled in an area far away from any of the other crewman’s planned vacations.
On the way to her “prepared area”, she almost turned back and went back to the ship. If McCoy hadn’t threatened to force her to take time off, she would have.
*If he knew what Uhura had suggested I doubt he would have taken the same tone…then again, maybe he would.*
Christine giggled to herself at the thought either way.
She walked through the glade to the area alongside the crystal clear mountain lake with a breathtaking waterfall. She spread the blanket out in an area covered in wild flowers and set the basket on a nearby rock.
*I am either totally desperate or completely insane. No, on full consideration, I do believe I am both. I cannot believe I have gotten to the point in my life where I have to come to a Shore Leave planet to deal with my love life. I must have been a total slug in my last life. A Casanova, a Henry VIII, a Black Beard. ‘Course, under that theory, our beloved captain is going to have this problem next go around…*
Christine found herself laughing at that last thought so she was surprised by the voice behind her.
“Miss Chapel? I’m sorry to disturb you …”
“Oh, Spock, you startled me! You’re early. I wasn’t expecting you for another few minutes. I hope you ‘re hungry, I made plenty of food for lunch.”
Christine reached for the basket and started laying out the food, completely missing the bemusement on Spock’s face.
“You were expecting me..a little later?”
She looked up and flashed him a sweet smile.
“No worry. Now we can eat now or we could take a walk by the lake. It’s been a while since we’ve been planet-side.”
Spock thought for a moment and then said, “A walk would be pleasant.”
She reached out her hand for him to help her up and, after a slight hesitation, Spock took her hand and pulled her to her feet.
“I would bet that being raised on a desert planet you were never taught the meditative joys of skipping stones.”
“Skipping stones?”
In an uncharacteristically affectionate move, Christine wrapped her arm in his and grinning said,
“Come my uninitiated friend, I am about to show you how country girls meditate on Earth.”
She scouted the lake’s edge until she found several perfectly flat stones. After gripping them on their sides, she skimmed the rocks very successfully over the lake’s surface.
“When I was a kid and I needed to contemplate a problem I would go out to river and skip stones while I thought. I always thought it helped me solve the problem but as I got older I realized that the physical repetition was relaxing and simply allowed me to clear my mind and concentrate.
Spock’s eyebrow rose. “Indeed. Several meditative techniques we are taught as children are similarly based.” He took several of the stones she offered and attempted to skip the stones with varying degrees of success.
“Are you finding yourself in need of such meditation?” he asked tentatively.
“Spock, you know it’s strange. Normally, I wouldn’t be able to talk to you this casually, heck, normally I afraid to talk to you at all for fear of sounding like an adolescent with a crush on a teacher. But since it’s not really you, I find I feel more comfortable. I know that Uhura thought I should come down here and “jump your bones” but Spock, it just didn’t feel right.”
She chuckled and commented, “There’s a joke there I didn’t mean to make, sorry. I’m not saying that I’m not attracted to you, or rather the real Spock sexually, because I am, but using you would be objectifying you, or should I say, the real Spock. Well, and you, as well, if you have any independent sentience. .. It would be denigrating me, him, you and what I feel for him, as though it was just sexually based. Does that make any sense?”
Spock looked deep into her eyes and said, “It makes quite a bit of sense. And thank you for considering my..feelings on this matter. I do, as you say, have independent sentience.”
Christine smiled into his eyes. “Trust me, I’m not saying physical affection doesn’t have its place, it’s just it would create more problems than it would solve. What I really wanted, what I needed, was a chance to talk to him without the pressure. Without feeling as though he wants to run for the hills every time he sees me or feeling as though everyone would make fun because I love him.”
“Christine, I would never hold you up to ridicule.” Spock’s tone had turned serious. She patted his arm.
“I know, but it’s hard to get to know you more when you always have that look on your face like, ‘Is she going to attack me here in the middle of the Sick Bay?’ I wanted a chance to talk to you about what made you choose science and when did you learn to play the lyre? Did you have siblings? I want to talk about philosophy, religion, childhood memories. I love you because you are strong and loyal, intelligent and gentle. And I see learning more about what makes you, you, more important than some sexual encounter.”
“So, am I to conclude from your statement that I have been mistaken in the assumption that you were feeling some form of sexual attraction?”
Her cheeks turned a very charming shade of red. “Ah, no, you were not mistaken. Face it, Spock, you are a very attractive man and I am a healthy human woman who just happens to love you very much. Sexual attraction is involved. I just mean that while it’s an element, that it’s not the only element involved in my feelings.”
For the briefest second, Christine could have sworn she saw the lightest smile cross his face. “Well, should we begin this discussion over lunch?”
“An excellent idea, I don’t know about you but I’m starved.”
And so they ate and then, talked, about families, hobbies, careers, shipmates. They discussed and debated science, politics, history and philosophy.
“I still can’t fathom how on one hand, Surak could teach the eradication of emotions and then teach the IDIC which is, at its’ core a philosophy of love.”
Spock’s brow furrowed. “Explain.”
“Infinite diversity in infinite combinations is the acceptance and appreciation of other beings for being themselves. That’s love. The Greeks had several words to define love, eros for romantic and physical love, philia for friendship and loyalty, storge dealt with the love between parent an child and agape is holding someone in high regard, total acceptance of a being for who and what they are. Of course, Plato always claimed that eros also encompassed the soul’s appreciation of beauty and truth. By Greek philosophy standards, the IDIC is quite similar to the Platonic ideas of eros and agape in the appreciation of truth and beauty in all their myriad forms.”
She stopped when she considered the look on Spock’s face. “What -- never had lunch with the granddaughter of a philosophy professor before?”
“No, my silence has nothing to do with your grandparent’s occupation. It’s more the consideration of your premise. You are incorrect that Surak’s teaching proposed the eradication of emotions, it’s more precisely the subjugation of emotions. Because our ancestors’ emotions had been so volatile, we found the need to subjugate them in order to move forward and rebuild our society. But that said, your theory is worth considering.”
“You must admit, Spock, that if one extreme is illogical then the full pendulum swing to the other end, while to be expected, is just as illogical. I was under the impression that true logic must be found within in a middle ground. Stuffing emotions away to be examined during meditation just seems…”
Christine wished she could have bottled the look on Spock’s face. He couldn’t have been more shocked if he had been French kissed by a Horta. But, simultaneously, she could see him work on her theory as one might work a puzzle.
“Have I offended you or are you just dumbstruck at the bizarre paradigm?” She asked with a quiet smile.
“Neither, just pondering your premise, which, while surprising, is not bizarre. I will need some time to consider it.” But the expression in his eyes suggested that it wasn’t just her paradigms he was considering.
“Let us try our hand again at the skipping stones.” he said offering her his hand to rise from the blanket.
“Christine, it’s obvious that you have studied and considered Vulcan philosophy, but how familiar are you with Vulcan sociology and anthropology?” he asked after skimming several rocks across the pond.
“I’ve read up on some, what specifically?”
“Marriage customs.”
*OK, this is no what I expected….but let’s stay calm and see where it goes…*
In a voice that hardly sounded like her own, Christine croaked, “No, don’t believe that that aspect has, eh, entered my research.”
Spock looked her, then to the ground and then, towards the water before starting to speak. “As in Earth’s medieval history, those in the upper classes and royal houses perform arranged marriages when both parties are children. Their minds are joined to each other as children but the relationship is not formally consummated until adulthood.”
“Was that the way it was….with you and…T’Pring?” Christine could hardly believe she had asked the question out loud.
“Yes. I, I had not seen her since the joining when we were seven. Such marriages are made for political or diplomatic reasons for the benefit of the clans.”
“The, ah, needs of the many superseding the needs of the individuals involved, being the idea?”
“Indeed.”
Pick a rock, pitch, release, skim, skim, skim.
There was an uncomfortable silence where nothing could be heard but the lapping of the water and the sharp splash of the rocks. Finally, Christine got around to acquiring the nerve to ask her obvious question.
“Why do you ask?”
After a long pause, Spock stated, “As you might remember, when you informed me of your feelings originally, I apologized.”
There was no question that she remembered, every painful, embarrassing minute of it.
“I was apologizing because I was unable to respond….already promised by an agreement made by my family that I was bound to honor to a betrothed I hadn’t laid eyes on since we were children. I was not at liberty to speak. After her betrayal, I needed time to re-evaluate my situation.”
Pick a rock, pitch, release, skim, skim, skim. Pick a rock, pitch, release, skim, skim, skim.
“Well, Spock,” she started, taking a deep breath, “Now that you are at liberty and on liberty, have you come to any conclusions?”
She had just picked up a river rock made of white quartz which was perfectly oval in shape. She appeared to study it for a moment. Spock then asked,
“Before I discuss any conclusions, may I inquire about your earlier decision concerning this outing?”
“What decision do you mean?”
“When our outing first began you stated that you would not initiate any physical affection. Did you also mean that you would forgo any physical affection initiated by me?”
Christine turned to face him and smiled.
“Spock, if you are asking permission to kiss me, the answer is yes.”
Cupping her face in his hand, he laid a gentle kiss on her lips. It didn’t take long before the kiss deepened and Christine wrapped her arms around his neck.
The kiss and the mood was broken when Christine’s communicator went off. She silently swore at the bad timing and inwardly promised herself that whoever was on the other end of the transmission was going to suffer an ice cold enema if she ever got hold of them.
“Chapel here.”
“LaSalle here. Sorry to cut your leave short, but Dr. McCoy’s having to call in the medical team because six of the security team were in a river rafting accident.”
“Are the injuries serious?”
“No deaths, but several broken bones and some folks in traction.”
“Sounds like another successful red shirt holiday.” She said sarcastically.
“Yeah, they’re already planning for the next trip.”
“That’s our boys, any shore leave you can limp anyway from. Tell Dr. McCoy I’m on my way. Chapel out.”
Christine turned and chuckled.
“Even in a situation like this things don’t go as planned. But I had a wonderful time.”
“As did I.”
Christine softly kissed him one last time and handed him the white quartz rock.
“Here, something to remember me by. Thank you for letting me have time to, to just be with you. Peace and long life.”
With that, she tapped her communicator and said,
“Enterprise, one to beam up.”
******************************************************************************************
McCoy had apologized all over himself for interrupting her shore leave but after seeing the Security team in various stages injury and most looking like trussed up Christmas geese in traction, she had decided to forgo any punishments. Especially after spending an entire third shift laughing at the men’s retelling of the incident which sounded like a combination of a Keystone Cops silent movie and the movie Deliverance.
As Christine gathered her things to leave at the end of her shift McCoy stopped her and put his arm around shoulders.
“You know for someone whose shore leave never got off the ground who then got it yanked out from under her, you have been an absolute angel.”
She smiled at her friend and mentor.
“No problem, but what do you mean, never got off the ground?”
“Uhura called Sickbay right after you left to go planet-side and said that there was a glitch in the programming. Spock was here and was going down so he told her he would give you the message.”
Color drained from her face like water from a bathtub.
“But nothing…..oh…….OH! Ahh, yeah, yeah. Night, Bones.”
The trip to her cabin was done on autopilot. A thousand thoughts collided in her mind.
*It couldn’t have been him. They must have gotten it fixed. But, if they got it fixed, then where was the real Spock? I can’t exactly ask him, “By the way, Mr. Spock…” Oh please, Lord, now is not the time to prove my higher power has a sense of humor.*
She unlocked her door and mindlessly walked through to remove her uniform. As she turned to get her robe, she spotted a small package on her dresser. Inside she found the white pond rock now attached to a simple gold chain and a small note.
-Thank you for an enjoyable afternoon. Spock-