Chapter Text
Having stumbled back onto the bridge, Spock was quickly determined by Pike to be unfit for active duty
“Good work with the Klingons,” the captain praised. “Go sleep it off.”
Spock quashed the urge to give him a jaunty salute, instead nodding firmly before somewhat unsteadily making his way off the bridge.
He did not anticipate that Christine would be waiting for him at his quarters.
“Um, we need to talk,” she said nervously.
“I believe you have already said everything that needed to be said,” he stated as he accessed his door.
She followed him in. “No, I don’t think I did.”
He swung around, almost losing his footing. “Nurse Chapel, I need some space, as you would say.”
Christine sniffed the air pointedly, landing on the scent of his breath with surprise. “Are you drunk?”
“It would appear so,” he replied, retreating to the replicator, where he stared at the screen in consternation.
She came over and pushed him towards the bed. “Go lay down, drunky. I’ll get you some water and something to eat. What do you want?”
Spock uncharacteristically flopped down on his bed. “I want plomeek soup,” he replied, somewhat petulantly. “The replicator’s plomeek is subpar, however.”
She shrugged. “The replicator is what we’ve got, you want it or not?”
“Yes,” he grumbled.
She began programming it in.
“Christine?” he called a little pathetically.
“Spock?”
“You never answered my question.”
She looked over confused.
“Why didn’t you tell me you got the fellowship?” he clarified. “I gathered from your song that you don’t want to be with me anymore, but I’m still confused as to why you couldn’t just… say so.”
Christine thrust the tray at him. “Eat your soup.” She sighed, rubbing her face as she paced in front of him. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t know how. I’m so excited about this opportunity, but it means leaving the Enterprise for at least three months. And I didn’t want to disappoint you.” She frowned. “That’s not right. I didn’t want your disappointment to color this thing that I’m so happy about.”
“You did not believe that I would be happy for you?” he wondered, swallowing his plomeek soup heavily. “Have I given you reason to think that I wouldn’t support you furthering your career?”
“No?” He hadn’t, come to think of it. “You don’t mind? That I prioritized my career over our relationship.”
“I only mind that it means our relationship is over,” Spock mumbled into his soup.
“It doesn’t have to be,” she countered. “I didn’t mean to make you believe that it is. I just was only thinking of myself and the opportunity.” She looked up at him through her lashes. “Would you want to do this long-distance for three months?”
“Obviously I would. I’ve been in long-distance relationships before.”
“Fuck, good point,” she conceded.
He put his tray down on his side table, scooching himself backward into bed. “Will you stay, Christine? We can talk more when the bloodwine stops pounding in my skull.”
She lay down beside him. “Poor baby,” she consoled him, running her fingers through his hair.
He sighed with contentment. “I have missed you.”
She kissed his forehead. “I missed you, too.”