One Part Go Away

Spock, C. Chapel

Summary: The lost years between their first mission and the meeting with V'ger. The crew of the Enterprise finds their lives torn apart. This is the story of how it fell apart and came back together.

Rated M for non-consensual M/F M/M and language.

Warning: Rape


Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction. No copyright infringement is intended. Paramount owns 'em I was just wondering how the hell they got from the series to the first movie. Here's one possibility, it's pretty much in keeping with the other stuff I've written. D'vun and Kaltor are words I found on the Vulcan Language Institute page. Bonnie Raitt owns the lyrics from Luck Of The Draw.

The idea of putting them together this way is my idea and therefore entirely my fault. If you don't recognize the characters from the Original Series, chances are they sprung from my tortured mind (or are real people I know but always wanted to see in uniform!). I don't make any money off of it, just the joy of endless hours of reading and re-reading for typos that I'll never find. Feedback is eagerly sought.

One Part Go Away

By Gueniver

Chapter 1 Fire and Ice

Mandatory fun. That's what she called it.

She had been 'cordially invited' to attend the going away party for Dr. M'Benga and now Christine Chapel was counting the minutes until 2100 so she could politely leave.

Fortunately there were enough people partaking of the festivities that she had been able to sit quietly in a dark corner with a data pad carefully concealed in her lap.

Leonard had gone on for over an hour about how they needed to show the poor doctor a good time before he went into voluntary exile. While not precisely exile, he had accepted a research position on Vulcan at the highly acclaimed Vulcan Science Academy. The entire medical staff seemed to be out to show the doctor every aspect of human debauchery that he was presumably giving up. As if Vulcan was some sterile, soulless rock hundreds of light years from 'civilization'.

Much to her annoyance because she was Head Nurse she was compelled to attend. She steadfastly refused to partake in any of the sophomoric drinking rituals that had sprung up around the room.

As much as she hated doing it, she would have rather spent the time working on the schedule for the crew rotation physicals. M'Benga wasn't the only officer leaving. With four years under their belts, some crewmembers had found positions elsewhere in Starfleet. In two days they would rendezvous with the Agamemnon. Which meant she had to have 16 *more* rotating crewmembers physicals done, with one fewer doctor on staff.

It was a good thing she was now qualified to do the physicals for human crewmembers. It had taken 8 months of re-testing by Starfleet Medical. Her certification as a Practitioner had coincided quite nicely with Dr. M'Benga's departure.

Tonight however, Christine had planned on perusing the listing of Vulcan Science Academy's medical library. At Dr. M'Benga's request Mr. Spock had allocated a rather large chunk of computer memory to the medical library. She had been given a portion of that space to fill as she saw fit. Dr. McCoy was receiving his download from Starfleet Medical via subspace, but Christine wanted to download as much as they could from Vulcan. It was rather difficult deciding what would be useful and what was just interesting.

The Starfleet All Star Band and Bucket Brigade returned to the platform at the end of the room and began to play what Uhura had warned would be non-stop late 20th century rock and roll music.

At a nearby table, Mr. Spock sat with the Captain.

Dr. McCoy sauntered over to the two, a half empty decanter of amber liquid in one hand and three short glasses in the other. Jaw set, eyes fixed, he sat down slowly, carefully so as not to appear intoxicated. It had the opposite effect.

"Gentlemen." From her dark corner table, the reluctant nurse could clearly hear her friend's silky voice. Uhura leaned forward, placed two hands on the table and almost spilled from her tight burgundy colored blouse "Would one of you dashing men care to join me on the dance floor?"

The band dove into a Latin tune that began to take over the lovely communication's officer's hips. As if of their own volition they began to sway slowly to and fro. She smiled flirtatiously to each of them and waited for a reply.

The doctor swayed slightly in tempo with the music but remained silent. The captain waved her away gently, "Uhura, I think I'll sit this one out. I promised the doctor a drink." He leaned forward and quickly busied himself with the whiskey. His first officer raised an eyebrow at the captain's prevarication but did not comment.

Christine smiled to herself. The captain was still nursing a back injury.

She quickly accessed ship's records and checked. Sure enough he had not used any of the analgesic she had prescribed. She made a note on her pad to have Janice sneak a dose in his morning coffee.

"Doctor? Mr. Spock?" She smiled widely, knowing what the answer would be.

"Ny!" Sulu beckoned from the dance floor. The helmsman had been her dance partner for the better part of the evening.

"You're off the hook for the moment, but I'll be back!" she wagged a finger warningly and winked then turned and danced her way through the crowd to Sulu.

The captain leaned back, whiskey in hand and muttered something under his breath about his damn back.

McCoy perked up at this.

"What was that, Jim? Your back still bothering you?"

"No." he lied. "I just thought I'd wait for you and Mr. Spock's to start the dancing this evening."

"C'mon Jim, you know Vulcans can't dance." The doctor took a small sip of his drink and turned his attention back to the dance floor.

"That's not entirely true." The captain smiled sipping his drink. Clearly his plan was to deflect the doctor's interest in his back. Mr. Spock only looked skyward innocently.

"Oh? Is there some latent skill our First Officer has neglected to share with his friends?" the doctor turned to the Vulcan.

"Go on Spock. Miss Uhura's a lovely dance partner." The captain winked at the Vulcan.

"Of that I have no doubt, sir. However I do not dance."

"Told you!" snorted the doctor turning back to the dance floor.

"Now Bones, he didn't say he couldn't dance." The captain's amber eyes twinkled wickedly.

Christine chuckled to herself as she scrolled through the Vulcan Science Academy physiological texts on her pad and eavesdropped on the trio.

"As a matter of fact I'm sure we could convince the band to play something Vulcan and you could show us some of that fancy foot work you learned in primary school, Spock."

Spock raised an eyebrow in surprise. The doctor leaned in and laughed, the image of Spock in primary school learning to square dance had popped into his mind.

Now interested, the doctor started in, "Yessiree, I do believe that would be a real treat. We could do with a little entertainment, Spock. Why don't you?" He filled the untouched glass before the Vulcan to the rim. "Here a little something to bolster yer courage."

"No thank you, Doctor." He pushed the glass away with a look of distaste on his face.

"Where in the world did you get the cockamamie idea that he danced?"

"Do you remember Captain Garth?"

The doctor nodded.

"When Spock and I were planet side, there was this Orion woman...what was her name Spock?"

"Marta." His friend answered evenly.

"Oh yes, Marta. Lovely lady." He smiled for a moment then looked sad, remembering her. "She performed a small dance. Short but sweet. Like the one we saw at that place Oly's All-Orion Entourage, Bones. You remember?"

"The one with the feathers?"

"That's the one!"

The doctor laughed lecherously, "Oh yes! Lovely little dance." He smiled broadly, blue eyes twinkling. "Quite a limber young lady."

"Yes, well Marta was...what did you call it Mr. Spock?"

"I do not recall." He did recall, but did not like where this was going.

"Sure you do, she finished the dance, you said it reminded you of the dance that Vulcan school children do except that she was a helluva lot more...what was it?"

The Vulcan sighed, "I believe I commented that she was well coordinated."

"Well coordinated?! Leave it to a Vulcan to watch an Orion woman turn on her charm and call it 'coordination'. I suppose you think Uhura's 'coordinated' as well." The doctor pointed to the dance floor teasing. "Just how coordinated are you Mr. Spock?"

"I do not dance, Doctor."

"But you can dance, Mr. Spock."

"I did not say that I was unable to perform the activity, doctor. Vulcan children are indeed schooled in the D'vun Kaltor, an ancient form of dance that I am quite proficient in. I have only stated that I am unwilling."

"You know, Jim, you could order him to dance. You're the captain." The doctor raised both eyebrows and filled the captain's glass again.

"Nope, I'm afraid that unless it's ship's business, I can't Bones." He lifted the glass in toast to the doctor. Spock crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair easily. "Of course if there was a medical reason..."

"Hmmm." The doctor looked Spock up and down for a moment, and then smiled slyly at Jim. "You know there's not much that's better for a body than good old fashioned cardiovascular workout. Something that involves coordination, high pace, something aerobic. Mr. Spock, I believe what you really need is -"

"Nurse Chapel?" Though he did not turn, Spock's voice carried easily to where she sat, suppressing a smile, in the dark corner.

"Yes, Mr. Spock?" She hastily covered the pad in her lap.

"I assume you can access ship's records with your data pad. Would you please pull my latest physical examination?"

After a moment she responded, "I've got it sir." She smiled broadly and read it aloud. "Physician's notes: Mr. Spock is in excellent health both physically and mentally. Rating 95."

"Nurse Chapel, were there any notes indicating why I did not receive a score of 100?"

"Yes sir. 'Mr. Spock is a diligent officer but works long hours and seldom takes in adequate rest or recreation. Shore leave is prescribed as well as additional rest during standard off duty hours.' Attending physician CMO Enterprise, Leonard H. McCoy."

Spock raised a single eyebrow, met the doctor's eyes. "I am resting."

McCoy sputtered then laughed. He roughly pounded the captain on the back. The captain winced and the doctor turned his sights on his human friend.

Christine chuckled and noticed the time stamp on the top of the pad. 2114. At last she could leave.