To Protest Our Natures
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Pairing: Uhura/Chapel, pre-slash
Series: Belief in Angels
Summary: After the Narada incident, Nyota Uhura is heartbroken over Gaila's death. Christine Chapel is there to pick up the pieces, if Nyota will let her.
She's drunk, enough that everything starts going fuzzy and warm. She's more drunk than she has been in a long time. But Nyota? Nyota is smashed.
Paradoxically, she's more graceful like this. The long lines of her body, always held so tightly coiled, so controlled, are loosened. She dances, moving free and luminous, all arms and legs and hips. Christine can't really help the way she fits her hands over Nyota's waist, swaying with her to a beat they feel more than hear, the bass thrumming between them, electric.
"'M gonna get 'nother drink, m'kay?" Nyota slurs, her cheek pressed against Christine's.
She nods, weakly. "Sure, Ny."
Christine's never been able to deny Nyota Uhura anything. But when she's watching Nyota slink up to the bar-"a shot of Jack, straight up," her tough girl drink-Christine wishes to hell she could. Nyota was so devastated after Gaila, and Christine wants so desperately to hold her, to be a nurse and fix it. But she's a little afraid Nyota will shatter again if she tries.
"Hey."
It's Jim Kirk, his arms wrapping around her waist. She can feel his chest against her back as he rests his chin on her shoulder. He's kind of a prick when he's drunk, but she's worked with McCoy. Jim drunk is just enough of an ass to be endearing.
"Kirk," she mutters, trying to sound stern. She knows she can't keep the smile off her face, though; when it comes to Jim, resistance is futile (damn endearing asshole).
"I'll take her home."
Christine starts to protest. Nyota's been staying with her, and there's no reason Jim should have to take her. It's-and this almost starts her giggling, drunkenly-completely illogical.
But then Jim gives her this look, and Christine reads him like a book.
"Yeah, okay," she agrees. "Just… Be careful, Kirk."
He laughs, mocking the serious edge to her voice. "You're way too sober, Chapel," he says, a friendly hand on her shoulder. "Do me a favor and get drunk enough you stop reminding me of Bones. Then you're allowed to leave." He winks. "That's an order."
"Yes, sir," she grins, saluting. "But you'd better not wreck that bike and hurt her, Captain, or you'll find out just how like the good doctor I can be."
Christine grins wickedly as Jim backs away, looking suitably chastised, and she watches him convince Nyota to leave. Christine wishes she could be that for her, the one to take her home when she's broken.
McCoy drives her back to the dorm, when she's too drunk to do it herself.
Nyota's curled up in bed when Christine keys in the door code, but it takes her all of ten seconds to know she's not asleep.
"You okay?" Christine asks, sitting on the edge of the bed. She unzips her boots and slides in next to Nyota, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
Nyota nods unconvincingly.
"Bullshit."
Christine's feeling light-headed, sleepy. She rests her forehead against Nyota's back, wrapping her arms around her. Nyota stiffens, and Christine panics, realizing what she's done.
"I'm sorry," she says when Nyota turns on her other side, eyes boring into Christine as if she'll read her mind. "I'm so-"
Nyota kisses her. Presses her lips to Christine's just enough for her to feel. It's graceless, too much pressure, but Nyota's lips are soft, sending sparks through Christine's body like an old EKG machine.
Christine wants to pull Nyota closer, to lick into her mouth, just to taste. But she can't. Nyota's drunk and heartbroken, and Christine can't take advantage of that. She can't-won't-battle ghosts.
Christine's a nurse. She's got an excellent bedside manner, she's been told; she's good at her job. There's a reason McCoy wants her as his head nurse. Which… It means she's patient. She can wait. She can spend hours in surgery and then sit with patients all night. She's in love with a hopelessly broken Nyota Uhura.
She can wait.