DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc. The story contents are the creation and property of Johanna Cantor and is copyright (c) 1980 by Johanna Cantor. Originally printed in Accumulated Leave #1

Give It Time

Johanna Cantor

"I have heard it said that the Xalia are the only intelligent beings in the galaxy too stupid to count to seven without using their genitals," Spock observed austerely, "but this passes everything." Christine froze in astonishment, but Kirk and the doctor laughed.

"We should have checked, Spock," the captain soothed. "We--" He broke off to clench his teeth against the cramping pain, then leaned back against Spock's shoulder.

"It shouldn't be much longer, Jim," McCoy consoled him as he finished hooking O'Higgins up and activated the other pump. The boy stiffened and groaned, and the doctor reached for his hand and gripped it tight. "Blast those crustaceans!"

"Level falling along predicted lines, Doctor," Christine said, without taking her eyes from the gauge.

"Good. Feeling any better, Jim?" The captain didn't reply. Christine glanced at him, then averted her eyes from the Vulcan first officer, holding his captain with such tender strength. "You'll be better soon, Captain," she promised them both.

When filtration was completed, she removed the apparatus from the captain's arm and went to help the doctor with the young security officer. He managed to smile at her as she mopped his brow. "Nineteen," she thought. He looked even younger.

"The simplest of tricorder checks," McCoy was grumbling. "Five seconds' work. Didn't it occur to them that human metabolism--"

"Apparently not, Doctor." For once Spock was seconding the doctor's indignation. "Most careless."

"Spock. Bones. It's done." The captain sounded weak, but he obviously felt better. Christine watched as Spock laid him down and covered him, then swiftly lowered her eyes as he looked up.

"How is Mr. O'Higgins, Nurse?"

"He'll recover, Mr. Spock. They're both going to need several days of recuperation."

"Understood."

The intercom activated. "Mr. Spock. Bridge to Mr. Spock."

"Spock here."

"Sir, the head of the Xalia Council is calling to inquire--"

"I am coming to the Bridge, Lieutenant. I will speak to him there."

"Yes, sir."

Christine studied the captain and his diagnostic panel. He was already almost asleep. McCoy caught her eye and indicated O'Higgins, and she moved back to him. "Are you comfortable?" He nodded bravely. Christine raised him, stripped off the sweat-soaked uniform and sheets, and helped him into fatigues and a hospital jacket. He tried to apologize for his weakness, but she hushed him firmly, settled him down, and began to massage his back. Expertly she dug into the stiffened muscles, then lightened her touch. In moments he was asleep, looking ridiculously young and vulnerable. "I wonder if he's ever slept with anyone?" she thought, and then wondered at herself. She didn't usually allow such thoughts to surface. Analytically, she decided that the sight of Spock cradling his friend had probably upset her. The familiar depression weighed on her chest, but she pushed it away, and sat down to work at her reports.

Christine's peace was further cut up during the next few days. Spock visited the captain every evening, and she watched as his skillful hands, so much stronger than hers, massaged his friend into contented re1axation. Kirk responded to Spock's backrubs much more than to hers, it seemed. What made his touch special? Defiantly, she would go over to give O'Higgins a rub, and be consoled by his small grunts of pleasure.

By the third day both men were in the restless state of late convalescence. That evening, O'Higgins did not fall asleep as she rubbed. Christine smiled with the knowledge of long experience, and considerately left him alone.

As she pulled the screen closed, she saw Uhura, dressed in a playsuit that (Christine thought enviously) would make almost any man want to play. "Mr. Spock said Captain Kirk would like to see me," Uhura said formally, but she winked at Christine.

Christine returned the wink, swallowing a sudden bitterness, and helped her arrange the screens. Then she resolutely went to her desk. Her job now was to get to work, ignoring anything she might hear or see, as a good nurse should. But she could not concentrate. Again and again she caught herself listening, and she discovered that the bitterness was not lifting. Uhura seemed to have a knack for easy relationships, warm, but undemanding. And, Christine thought bitterly, she seemed to know how to pick generous men. As the thought crossed her mind, she heard a shuddering sigh.

How long had it been since she herself had given such deep pleasure? She had tried, but each time, it had seemed that the warm flesh had turned to cold, android plastic inside her. The intrusive fantasy had always ruined everything. Eventually, she had given up trying.

She listened frankly now, and soon she heard a small gasp from Uhura, and then a sigh of contentment.

Christine stood up suddenly, afraid she was going to cry. On impulse, she walked into O'Higgins' cubby. He didn't hear her come in; his eyes were closed, and his lips moved in what Christine decided was a logrithm table. She started to walk out, but something inside her rebelled, and she walked over to the bed.

O'Higgins opened his eyes and she smiled at him, then drew her finger down his abdomen. Under the bedsheet he came erect, and she wrapped her hand around the shaft and fingered the soft bag. "Why don't you do something about that?" she teased.

"I thought in Sickbay--" he mumbled, and flushed.

Christine laughed. Suddenly she felt as young as he, and totally irresponsible. She got up and closed the screen, then stripped. The boy sat up as she moved toward him, but she shook her head and pushed him back. "Contraindicated," she teased, and pulled the sheet off him. She took his erect organ again and bent to kiss the tip. He gasped, and Christine laughed, enjoying a delicious sense of power. She began to tantilize him with lips and tongue. He writhed pleasurably, but soon began to push against her hands. Swiftly she let go, straddled him, and mounted. The pleasure of having a penis inside her again sent a shiver up her spine, and she moved gently against the warm flesh, wondering how long it had been, and why it had been so long. Warm feelings began to run through her. Why, she was actually responding to a man! She moved slowly, luxuriating in the penetration, but suddenly he reached for her thighs. His hands clenched at her, and his body convulsed. Christine felt the ejaculation, and sat still.

"I should have known," she thought, bitterly disappointed, and moved to dismount. But his eyes flew open, and he pressed hard on her thighs, holding her still.

"It's all right," she whispered out of long habit. "I'm slow."

He shook his head, smiling at her. "I was too fast. I never--" He broke off, and reached to fondle her nipples. They came erect under his fingertips, and he smiled again. Slowly and gently, he drew his fingers between her breasts and as far down as he could. Then he probed with a gentle finger. "Where is it?"

"It's -- oh, there." He rubbed rhythmically, and at the same time moved his free hand to fondle ears, neck, breast, spine, and buttocks. Christine began to move again, and now her entire being was responding. The rubbing intensified, and she abandoned herself to the waves cresting within her.

Finally she caught his wrist, and he stopped obediently. Christine realized that he was erect again, but she climbed off. "Wait," she whispered. "You mustn't get tired." She folded her hands around the half-hardened shaft, and used the sweet-smelling wetness to slide her fingers up, down, and around. "Just let go," she whispered, and bent to take the head in her mouth. He pushed, and she sucked hard, matching his rhythm, and occasionally raking her teeth gently across the moving flesh. The climax came, and he lay still.

Christine moved up and took his head in her arms, cradling him on her breast. She felt his exhaustion, but his hand moved down her body. She caught it. "I am happy," she whispered.

"You're sure?"

"Yes. Go to sleep."

"That's one I owe you."

"You bet." She held him until his breathing calmed and evened, then laid him down. She checked her chronometer; she'd gone off duty forty minutes ago. "Well, I certainly did," she thought with a secret giggle. She dressed swiftly, and peeked out. Mitchell, the evening nurse, was nowhere in sight. Maybe he was just being discreet. But Christine discovered that she didn't really care. Slipping out, she peeked into the captain's cubby. He was asleep too, still sprawled across Uhura in an attitude of complete relaxation. Uhura opened her eyes and smiled sleepily at the nurse. Her eyes widened at the smile Christine gave in return, but Christine swiftly tiptoed away.

Next day the patients were discharged from Sickbay. Christine was at her most professional, and they both responded in kind. She forced herself not to think of Sean. Now that he was out of Sickbay, on limited duty, he'd have plenty of other chances. "I had a pleasant time." she reminded herself. "Leave it at that."

But that night when the buzzer in her quarters sounded, her call was slightly shaky. And it was Sean. He crossed to her and, without preliminary, gave her a gentle kiss. "Lady, are you in the way of collecting debts?"

"Sean, you don't owe me anything."

"No?"

"You don't have to feel--"

"Christine." His voice hardened, and she looked at him in dismay. But then he smiled. "You underestimate yourself." She was silent. "Or else you're not very good with words." He took her in his arms again, then stood still. Shyly, almost timidly, she returned the embrace. He tilted her head up to look at her face, then smiled again.

In the next few nights, Christine learned a lot about both of them. A long tour of duty on a small probe ship had left Sean theoretically knowledgeable, and practically inexperienced. He was eager to try any number of things, but often had to be shown just how. Before, Christine had always been the student. She discovered that she enjoyed being the teacher. And she, herself, learned to signal him to slow down without apologizing.

* * *

"How are you, Christine?"

"Oh hi, Uhura. I'm just fine." Christine said the stock response so sincerely that Uhura laughed at her.

"That's great," she said more gently. "It's doing you a lot of good."

"Yes. I know he's much too young for me, but--"

"Christine," Uhura interrupted sharp ly. "You know, you analyze too much. Probably it won't last. But when you let him go, there'll be another one along. Just enjoy it while it's happening."

"You' re right. I've never been able to do it like that before. But now I think I can. And take it lightly."

"At-a-gal."

Christine hurried back to Sickbay. She was due to assist McCoy, examining the two patients for return to full duty status. Sean was there alone. "Good evening, Nurse."

"Good evening, Mr. O'Higgins. You might as well get ready, since you're here." She got him on the diagnostic table, and flipped him back. He gave her a quick wink as McCoy ushered the captain in.

Sean's exam was over quickly. "Okay, O'Higgins, you're recovered. Don't eat any more seaweed soup."

"Don't worry." He dressed quickly, and paused in front of Christine's desk. "Thank you, Nurse," he said formally, and quickly flicked five fingers at her as she looked up.

"You're welcome, Mr. O'Higgins," she said, and nodded slightly.

Kirk turned to watch him go. 'You know, that kid seems different since we visited Xalia. More mature, somehow. Don't you think so, Bones?"

"Dunno, Jim."

"Spock!" Kirk hailed the first officer, who had stepped by to hear the doctor's report. Don't you think O'Higgins has changed?"

"I have no information on the point, sir."

"Maybe he's got a girl. I wonder who?" He surveyed his friends critically. "Come on, you two know something. Who is it? Spock?"

"I have no--"

"Oh, come on. Listen. I'm concerned about the boy. He's got a lot of potential. I want to be sure he's in good hands. Some girl who'll teach him. Smooth his--"

"You don't need to worry about that, Captain," Christine spoke without thinking. Then, as she met the captain's astonished look of comprehension, she flushed red.

"Christine, you can take the rest of the evening off," McCoy said hastily. "We're not busy here."

"Thank you, Doctor." She gathered her dignity, and walked out into the hallway.

"Now why did you let me do that?" Kirk was asking indignantly. "Damn it, Spock, you knew!"

"Yes, sir. However, I could not anticipate that you would insert your foot quite so firmly in--"

"Jealous, Spock?" the doctor interrupted slyly.

"On the contrary, Doctor," Spock spoke quietly, but at his tone, the captain intervened quickly.

"What do you think of that, Bones?"

"Well, I tell you, Jim. When they're that age, I like 'em a little riper."

"Well, give it time, Bones. Just give it time."

Christine stepped into the elevator activator beam, and flounced in the door. "Deck Five," she said loudly, and the doors snapped shut.

THE END