Christine had always imagined that there were hidden depths to Spock, things that he hid away from the ship at large, since it was clear that everyone else only saw him as Vulcan, cold, detached. There were still traces of him in her memories, however, that told her the flights of fantasy she engaged in were not all in vain. And then those young troublemakers had come aboard their ship and upset everything.

Sighing, she shook her head and turned her focus back to the padd in her hand, assessing the status of her current experiment. It didn't do to dwell on dreams and fantasies, to let the music from his lyre direct her thoughts. It had been a week since those awful people had been dealt with, and things had slowly returned to normal. Or so it seemed. There was still an underlying sense of unease that lingered in the air, and she couldn't quite place her finger on the cause.

"Nurse Chapel, your shift was over twenty minutes ago, and you're missing out on the concert that Uhura and Spock are giving." Christine turned her head to see Doctor M'Benga giving her a bemused smile.

"I wasn't planning on attending, Doctor. I have far too much to catch up on, here in the lab." It was a lie, she was avoiding the concert because she had resolved to be less clingy. It was the only way that she could ever let this wound that was her heart heal. From the look M'Benga gave her, she knew that he could see right through her.

"Music soothes all the broken places in us, Chris. Go, listen, let the music, not the man, into your heart." He reached out and took the padd from her limp hand before patting her shoulder gently. "Trust me, I'm a doctor."

She couldn't help but chuckle at that line, shaking her head a little as she slipped off her stool and shook out the invisible wrinkles in her skirt. "Are those doctor's orders, then?" she asked tartly, folding her arms over her chest as she regarded him with a steady gaze.

"If it has to be that way, then yes."

His face softened into a rare smile, and Christine let out another sigh as she touched her hand to her hair. Everything looked to be in place, and she shook her head as she made her way past him and over to the door. "You owe me one, you know."

"We'll have to see about that one," he said as he shooed her out the door.

As the door hissed closed, Christine drew in a deep breath, wondering if this really was a great idea. Ever since…well, ever since that time, things had been awkward between them, and eventually, she had learned to school her features and emotions around him, so that she wouldn't give away the inner turmoil in her heart. And yet, at M'Benga's urging, she was going into a situation that would test all her control.

"Chrissy, you are stronger than this. Just focus on Nyota and you'll be fine," she muttered as she made her way down to the rec room. From the faint sounds of her friend's voice, she knew that the concert had started already, and Christine picked up her step a little, slipping into the room and taking a seat in the very back.

Somehow, the small movement of her chair was enough to alert Spock to her presence, as he glanced over at her, his eyebrow ticking up. She could just imagine his thoughts, and she tried to fight the blush that was rapidly spreading across her face and neck, knowing that such a reaction was ridiculous. Breaking eye contact with the Vulcan, she stared down at the table and focused in on the music, letting it wash over her and fill all her senses. It seemed like tonight the pair was in rare form, somehow pushing each other to try new passages to the theme they were playing with.

Without realizing it, Christine had started to cry, and she jumped a little when the ensign next to her passed a tissue to her. Dabbing at her eyes, she released a deep sigh before getting up much quieter than she had entered, escaping out into the corridor before sucking in deep breaths of air, trying to let go of what was stirring in her breast. Longing filled her heart as she considered returning to the room, only to convince herself that it would be a mistake. Wrapping the tissue around her fingers, she trudged to her quarters and threw herself down on her bed the moment she was close enough to it.

"Christine, you can't keep running from things," she said bitterly as she stared up at the ceiling, trying to find some pattern there. It was useless, though, and she turned onto her side, curling up into a tight ball and letting her sorrow out in the form of deep sobs that quickly drove her into the welcome arms of sleep.

"Nurse Chapel, wake up."

She frowned as she blinked, turning her head so that she could look up into the face of the person speaking to her. The sudden recognition of him, in her room, caused her to gasp and scramble back against her headboard, trying to curl up in a ball and make herself as small as possible, illogically thinking that if she didn't answer him that he would just go away. That wasn't to be the case, though, and she fought back her next response, that of more tears, as she spoke. "I must have forgotten to lock my door."

"Yes, that was most unlike you."

She scoffed a little as she wrapped her arms around her legs, trusting him not to peek at her shorts. "You saw me sleeping. Didn't you think that I might want to be left alone?"

Spock frowned a little as he shook his head. "You were troubled by the performance this evening, and Lieutenant Uhura sent me to check after you. She and Commander Scott were otherwise engaged, else she would have come herself."

"And you were the logical choice to check up on the silly human woman, huh?" The bitterness in her voice was hard to conceal, and she shook her head once more before resting her chin on her knees and staring at her fingers. It took everything in her being to not squeak in surprise when a long fingered hand came to rest on her back. "Your music was too melancholy tonight. I couldn't stay and listen to something that was making me sad."

Truth seemed to just spill from her lips the longer the weight of his hand pressed onto her back, and then she was sighing, twitching her shoulders a little, needing to be free a little. He frowned at her, and Christine let her face fall, unable to control her emotions any longer. "You're human, Christine, and while you admirably have great control over your emotions, I would never expect you to have the same control as I have."

It was faint praise, but it touched her nonetheless, and she sighed as she dared enough to lean against his side, letting her head come to rest on his shoulder. There was something so comforting about this touch, something that felt so right, and she sighed once more. "Things just haven't felt right between us since…I've had a hard time remaining objective, because a part of my brain told me that kiss was the fulfillment of every longing in my heart."

"They chose you because they could read something in my mind." Her breath caught in her throat, and she tried not to get her hopes up as he pulled her closer to him, his hand starting to stroke her arm. "There was never a right time for us there, and it seemed illogical to talk about what transpired on that planet once we were back on the ship. I should have realized that it would have bothered you more than you would let on. I am truly sorry to have grieved you."

"There was nothing that you purposely did, Mr. Spock." Christine twisted her body slightly, letting one hand spread out and then curl around the insignia on his uniform. It felt right to anchor herself like that, and she only hoped that he would allow her to have just a few more moments before he left her once more. "If I asked you to stay, would you?"

"I am not certain of what you are asking, Nurse Chapel."

"I didn't mean to say that aloud," she murmured, pulling away from Spock to slip off the bed and drift over to her closet, thumbing through her clothes until she touched her nightgown. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to change and go to sleep."

The thorny tone of her voice hurt her heart, and she closed her eyes as her shoulders tensed, straining to listen for the sound of his footfalls leaving her room, letting her wallow in self-indulgent pity. The expected outcome never came, instead, Christine could feel him get closer to her, as if she had a modicum of his ability. "You might, Christine. There are some humans who possess some of the skills that are inherent in a Vulcan. The fact that you were once able to hold my consciousness alongside yours speaks to your strength."

She stiffened, not knowing what to expect next from him. "Does your mother possess those capabilities?" she asked, needing to put some sort of space between them.

"Yes." He was hovering behind her now, and she turned to look at him, the silky nightie in her hands. "She has always wanted me to find someone who understood me. She was even content for that to be Jim."

Christine couldn't stop the giggle that bubbled up from her stomach, cocking her head to one side as she studied him. "Jim is too much the ladies' man, Spock."

"I know." He reached out and smoothed down a piece of her hair. Christine let her eyes slide closed, trusting him completely. "I know that we have not had quite the typical courtship, however, I think now, that we have worked out some of the hurdles between us, I would be open to seeing where this leads. If you are still amenable to that, Christine."

She pressed her lips together as she drew in a long breath. "I believe that I might be. Perhaps we could see what happens over supper tomorrow night?"

There was a short pause, and her eyes flew open to meet his, searching out the truth in his eyes. There was no rejection there, and she couldn't stop the wide smile that spread across her lips. "I would enjoy that, Christine. What time does your shift end tomorrow?"

"1700, I'm working in the science lab all day…"

"Ah, yes, on your experiment. Would you mind if I come observe?"

"No, that would be quite lovely. After you look over my progress, we can head to the lounge and eat." He dipped his chin slightly, and she found herself drinking in everything about him, finally feeling free enough to do so. And while she had no way of knowing where this would lead, she was immensely grateful to be at least afforded the opportunity to at least start the journey.