Green-Blooded Jealousy
Among the crew of the USS Enterprise, the Bridge officers saw a disproportionate amount of action. Those privileged few, orbiting the captain like so many moons, regularly had the kind of adventures that motivated exhausted but starry-eyed cadets in Starfleet Academy to study just a little harder and to stay up just a little later.
But those officers could also be somewhat isolated by the rarefied air of the Bridge. They were usually the last ones to hear the latest gossip, even the salacious, speculative kind that tore through the rest of the ship in just a few days. There were exceptions to this rule, of course: Lieutenant Uhura was a popular social butterfly, and as chief engineer, Scotty probably heard all kinds of talk but was wise enough not to repeat any of it while he was on duty. The shipâs first officer, though, might have been the very last to hear any of it. Spock tended to ignore all but the tallest tales even when he did hear them. In typical Vulcan fashion, he dismissed anything that lacked the potential to threaten the overall morale of the crew and fortunately, nothing had fit that description this early in the voyage.
The same privilege and separation from the lower decks that put the Bridge crew out of the loop made them a favorite subject of that same gossip. Half of the women on board carried a torch for one of the senior officers, with Captain Kirkâs boyish good looks and charm making him the clear front-runner. To some ordinary crewmen, the captain and his inner circle were more like celebrities than fellow members of Starfleet.
So when two crewmen working alongside him in the lab struck up a conversation about a relatively recent rumor, Spock took notice only when one of them remarked, âChapel? The blonde with the great legs? Damn. Some guys have all the luck.â
His companion chuckled. âWell, I donât see your epaulets, Sharma. Everyone knows sheâs been sweet on a Bridge officer for months. You think sheâs going to be interested in a lab rat?â
Spock frowned, his hands going still. Under the influence of an alien virus, Christine Chapel had confessed that she was in love with him not so long ago. He remembered the encounter with crystal clarityâand he knew that it had caused her a great deal of embarrassment. But how had that translated into this supposed common knowledge? Since neither man was paying any attention to him, however, it appeared that no one had correctly guessed for which Bridge officer the head nurse had eyes. In any case, their talk had already moved on to a different topic. Spock went back to his research, putting thoughts of Christine (and her great legsâthe observation had been slightly crude but accurate nonetheless) in the back of his orderly mind.
It never occurred to him to wonder about the identity of the man.
A few days later, Spock laid claim to the empty corner of a rec room for dinner and a game of chess with Jim. The chatter from a table near the door washed over him like so much white noise as he began setting up the tridimensional board. Untilâ
âHe was with her down there, after all. On Exo III, I mean.â
Exo III. The name was enough to pique Spockâs interest. Theyâd found Dr. Roger Korbyâor whatever had remained of himâon that desolate planet. He lifted his eyes from the chess pieces he was arranging, unconsciously tilting his head with curiosity. The speaker was an ensign whose auburn hair was almost indistinguishable from her uniform.
âI guess chivalryâs not dead,â her dark-haired companion remarked, laughing.
âNot while Captain Kirkâs alive,â agreed the redhead. âI heard that theyâve been seeing each other for months already. If thatâs true, it seems like a pretty quick rebound, but wellâŚcan you blame her?â
The brunette lifted one non-committal shoulder. âHeâs not really my type.â
âSure, you say that now, but if he turned that gigawatt smile on youââ
âItâs a megawatt smile at most.â
Both of them rose from the table and headed for the door, giggling as they continued to bicker over the order of magnitude that best described the power contained within Jim Kirkâs smile, not that either girl had probably ever seen that expression for themselves.
A deafening silence accompanied the ensignsâ departure. Spock didnât recognize his own sudden, intense agitation until he swept the board heâd just assembled off the table. He stared with astonishment first at the mess of pieces strewn across the floor, then at his offending arm, which trembled beneath his gaze.
It is not logical to envy, he reminded himself even as he wondered if that was the sensation he was experiencing.
Christine Chapel was almost nothing to Spockâmaybe not even a friend. When had they ever had a real conversation? He wasnât available, in human parlance, even if he had the time or inclination to pursue an intimate relationship. If Christine wanted companionship and comfort in the wake of losing her own fiance, she had no reason to seek those things in him. Jim, on the other hand, was an obvious choice. Was it possible that their experience on Exo III had forged a bond between them that had grown into something more?
Even if such a thing had occurred completely unbeknownst to Spock, he wondered further: their mission was still young, had he ever seen Jim carry on a romance with a crew member? Not even with Miss RandâŚ
âEnough. Enough!â he muttered as he knelt down to collect the scattered chessmen. It was just some talk. There was no empirical evidence that the captain was spending time with Nurse Chapel in any capacity, and he had no reason to be jealous of such a relationship if it did exist. Such a reaction was utterly irrational. It was below him. Jim was his friend, Christine his colleague.
Ordering a cup of spice tea from the food synthesizer, Spock settled back into his seat to wait for Jim.
@multirptrash
The last few weeks for Christine had, frankly, been shit.
In between the disasters that regularly befell the Enterprise (and it really was only their ship. She had friends on other ships, they never ran into ethical problems with alien civilizations or aliens trying to take over the ship every other day, Christine just had awful luck picking ships to serve on), Christine had personally suffered a few crisis. Confessing not just an already embarrassing crush, but love, to the Vulcan first officer who didnât brush elbows without going into a panic, and finding out her fiancĂŠ (and yes, she was suffering from all sorts of guilt, thanks for asking) was alive, and then a robot, and then dead.
âSo, no, I am not having a good day. But thank you for asking,â she said with a wry grin. McCoy was accompanying her to lunch, and he was always ready to be sardonic, sarcastic, and generally empathize with sucky situations in a way that felt real.
Bones chuckled dryly and looked to Kirk, who patted Christine lightly on the shoulder comfortingly. He knew what it meant to experience loss, certainly, but not in this kind of rapid succession. (McCoy was the only other one who knew what went down between her and Spock, but Bones had informed his friend that Chapel had had a rough couple weeks even besides the Roger thing.)
âSee, Jim. Itâs not just me who complains,â Bones offered his friend graciously.














