1. Chapter 1

**I do not own or profit from any of my postings. See my full disclaimer on my profile page. **

**These are five separate instances that allow us to see how these two 'just missed each other several times. **

**Botsey**

**A' Christine's Story' Prequel**

…**.Four Times Nurse Chapel Missed Meeting Her Future Husband …and the one time she totally didn't miss…**

**Summary: …Christine and Lo'vaak's lives have circled each other before. **

**Number One**

**As a child, Christine heads a group of children who compose various songs, poems recitation, etc. as expressions of thanks to the rescuers of children attending The Twenty-seventh Youth Scout Interplanetary Jamboree on Carter's Planet.**

Like everyone else in Ms. Elkardt's second grade class, Christine Chapel sat mesmerized by the events unfolding on the classroom comm. Just two days ago, young representatives from seventeen Federation member planets and protected colonies across the Alpha Quadram had gathered on Omnicrom VI, better known as Carter's Planet, chock full of youthful enthusiasm and esprit de corps. The occasion? The once every four year Youth Scouts Interplanetary Jamboree. This year was the twenty-seventh such gathering.

The idea that anyone would use such an occasion as a stage for a vicious terrorist attack was inconceivable-but so it was.

It had always been thought that Carter's Planet, so nick-named for the philanthropist who had been extremely generous toward the Youth Scouts and who had years ago laid claim to it, was a safe haven. Now, while it was so that the Federation thought of the planet as a privately owned piece of outer space, for a species known as The Gorn, a reptilian race, this was not the case. They were under the impression they had discovered it. And now they had returned to claim it. Finding, humanoids on its surface, whom they viewed as squatters, they initiated a wide spread cleansing sweep. The weapon was not fatal, but inflicted on the young attendees, serious physical and mental anguish.

Seven year old Christine Chapel looked in horror at the HoloVid streaming onto the news channel. There before her eyes she saw the traumatized children. She was able to relate, for in her young life she had suffered what she imagined was the worst anguish any child of five or in fact, any age, could experience, the loss of parents, mother and father…both at the same time.

At the age of three Christine's parents had placed her in a alternate school. The Clarion Education and Long Term Housing Academy. This allowed them the opportunity to feed their unyielding drives to continue their career paths and yet tend to the educational and supervisory needs of their only child, Christine.

Although Christine was loved, it was the case, she was an Oops Baby. Unexpected, unplanned for, she was an 'too early in our marriage baby.' A road block that required a detour.

Both her parents were bio-chemist and regularly received off planet jobs. Some times they were with the exploration crew whose aim was to set up new settlements. At other times they might examine newly acquired specimens or locations. When off-planet, they did however, have almost daily contact with their daughter and when they were on planet, they carried on what would appear a normal family life. During these times Christine was privileged to meet many off-worlders. She was especially entranced by their Vulcan guests. When her parents were called away, Christine would return to the discipline and structure of that school setting.

While she had begged to accompany them on several occasions, her parents felt quite strongly that space was still too dangerous a place for their child. It was out of the question, they would not expose Christine to the elements that in their estimation were both life threatening and unpredictable.

But, ironic as it might seem, it was not space that ended up being life threatening and unpredictable. It was a wayward land vehicle on Terra. So it was on this day that as her parents spoke with her after returning to Terra from an off-world assignment; while driving their hover vehicle a short distance from her school; the last words she heard her father say was, "What…? She heard her mother scream, "Oh, my baby!

The burnt out ruins of the vehicle was later found at the bottom of a precipice with no recognizable remains intact.

The institution's director, Ms Iverson found her unconscious, on the floor. When she picked Christine up she heard her moan as if in physical pain. For a week Christine stayed, curled up in a ball, did not move, except to go to the bathroom. There was no talk or response to anything or anyone. Then, on day eight, Christine got up, showered, dressed herself, went to the replicator for food and then like a robot continued her life. But the emptiness stayed with her, like a heavy weight that she carried daily. She became emotionally exhausted for as time passed and no one came to claim her, she determined that she did not belong to anything or anyone.

So after their deaths, The Clarion become her home. well that is, until the estate's funds ran out. It was then that Christine was placed in an orphanage, and then later, a group home.

Christine's research helped her determine that the children at the Jamboree had come, so they thought, prepared for everything, Since it was the twenty-seventh Interplanetary Youth Jamboree, they could learn from other participants blunders. This groups had its roots in the organizations that had started on Terra centuries ago, the Boys' and Girls' Scouts. The interplanetary nature of the Jamboree fostered early recognition and acceptance of differences between species. For as long as they were observed, lasting friendships had been welded that would in later life ended up in marriages, diplomatic agreements, job placements and all sorts of positive things.

But now, what she saw in those children faces and posture echoed the pain she had experienced when she had lost her parents. Fortunately, the Federation ship, USS Victory, had made short work of the attackers. With the release of this news, healers from every planet, associated with the interplanetary volunteer health organization, 'Healers United' responded. Within this group were representatives of every planet of the Federation. There was even a Vulcan/Betazoid healer within the group named Lo'vaak.

In honor of her parents, she initiated a school-wide response to the loving concern demonstrated by those healers. She proposed that the school produce a holo-vid to send to the medical team that was presently giving aid to the devastated youths on Carter's Planet. She was chosen to introduce the program. Many children composed poems, gave little speeches, made posters or even sang songs all in appreciation for the hard work and dedication exhibited by this group.

Lo'vaak's friend, Lars, a nurse, was with the healers. He tapped into the transmission, heard the introduction and listened to a lovely, poised young girl, who introduced herself as Christine Chapel. She mentioned why she empathized with the youth that they treated. He did recall that he had read about two bio-chemists by the same last name who were killed when their hover careened off a mountainside a few years ago. Young Christine gave her poignant poem and then personally introduced several other heartfelt recitations.

Calling across the room to Lo'vaak, who could best be described as being in a state of complete physical and emotional exhaustion, Lars encouraged,

"Hey, you want to lift your spirits, you just have to see this. Some children on Terra have sent us thank you vids. I'm up to maybe the sixth one, come on and take a look."

Lo'vaak walked over and stood over his friend and they shared several dozens of the grateful expressions. But, Lo'vaak never went back to the beginning-to Christine…

A/N

As I wrote parts of this posting I thought of that Joseph Cotton, Jenifer Jones film,

"A Portrait of Jenny". In that film these two lovers were meant for each other, and Joseph Cotton, who is much older than Jenny, was drawn to different places in his search for her. In the case of the film, they each were born at the wrong time. There will be instances in these stories that Lo'vaak feels he MUST be at a certain place or he is aware of Christine's presence and can do nothing about it. He doesn't understand why.

It just so happens in this story, although there is the age different, Lo'vaak Vulcan/Betazoid physiology allows him to be meet, love, wed, and have a family with his 'meant to be' Christine, who is quite his junior.


	2. Chapter 2

**Four Time Christine Missed Meeting Her Future Husband and the One Time She Didn't…Miss**

**Time Number Two**

**Lo'vaak feels as if he is searching for something. His quest requires time away from his family and most notably away from his father and the confines of the family's ship. Coupled with that was a sudden desire for hard manual labor, which was offhandedly suggested by his father who said, 'As aimless as you are, and as brainless as you at times appear, you might as well be off somewhere mining dilithium. Lo'vaak now finds himself on Direidi, a dilithium mining planet. While there he and scores of his fellow miners are injured in an horrific explosion. **

**`0`0`0`0`0**

**As a Cadet on training mission that turns into rescue mission on Direidi. ****Cadet Christine Chapel, a nurse by profession, along with the rest of the medical team on the transport USS Hope, arrived on Direidi and pitched in to help. One of the patients, was a Vulcan, whose face was bandaged and who was deep in a healing trance. He will remain a mystery to her long after she leaves (At a later point in her life she will get to see his one noticeable scar again.**

**`0`0`0`0`0**

**USS Hope and Environs-Direidi**

The make-shift, but efficient medical facilities were equivalent to a twentieth century MASH unit. The total injured tallied sixty-eight. Four miners were on critical, two had died. The burns received encompassed the full range of severity, from first to third degree. For Nurse Chapel, making her first inspection of the patients it would eventually prove to be a life altering experience. All of the patients were new to her. but she made it her business, to speak consolingly to any patient she found awake..

These miner knew the dangers involved in the securing of dilithium crystals. Although these were the life blood of a star ship, even one on a peaceful mission, the inherent dangers involved with their procurement would and could draw only one type of person-an adventuresome, risk taker.

The pay was extraordinary and the company took care of room and board, if the dorm style sleeping quarters and replicated meals would qualify for that definition.

Since the planet was a desolate waste, the spending of any credits would have to wait until the crew shipped out after their contract expired. Of course, anyone could extend their personal stay by signing a one on one agreement. As miserable as living conditions were no one could have ever anticipated the explosion.

But it was a fact, for centuries, as a matter of fact since 'business' became an entity, greedy commerce always looked first at the bottom line. Because of that the safety of their workers was never a priority.. Any improvements, adjustments or precautions not indicated on the Federation Inspection Report were never given any consideration at all. For in fact, that would eat into the profits and pockets of the already bulging income over expenditure.

The USS Hope was an amazing ship, a fully equipped forty bed hospital was the heart of this star ship. But due to the large number of injuries not all could be brought on board. Finally it was determined that the only ones that would be taken aboard were those who needed extreme intensive care, constant supervision either by personnel or monitors.

So it was after her rounds in the mobile unit she returned to the ship to those who fell into that unique category. She felt the need to survey this group since she was heading up the nursing staff on this trip and would have to submit a written report on her findings.

Even though her body knew it was well past midnight, this group was comprised of just seven, so she would take a few minutes to check these patients out and then find her bed.

There would be no greetings involved on this round, most of these patients were on strong pain medication with burns that usually covered at least two-thirds of their bodies or in especially vulnerable areas, e;g face or hands. Hand injuries were of an especially serious nature for those humanoids who were touch telepaths.

She came across a bed, with its privacy curtain drawn, she thought, 'How odd.' She picked up the patient's chart: Number 56902, Vulcan/Betazio, presently in a Vulcan healing trance, must be forcibly awaken after seventy-two hours. The exact date and time was affixed to the patient's chart in red.

After Christine read the chart she knew why this patient was on board. If he was not forcibly aroused at that exact time, he could stay in an unconscious state. Slaps and at time even more painful inducements to return to consciousness were necessary for the Vulcan's survival. No doubt an alarm or possibly two, had been set on the bio-bed so that the date and time would not be missed. It was also logical that an individual who was schooled in the Vulcan healing arts had already been assigned this task.

She drew back the curtain and saw something that gave her pause, the patient did not possess the straight black, severe cut of most Vulcans she had met. Instead, his hair was black and curly. No features could be discerned except his ears for his face was covered in derma skin repair patches.

Our nurse did notice one singular non-burn injury to his body, a deep scar that ran down from his right thumb, and then diagonally upward to the area between his ring finger and pinky. almost imaging a stylized 'V'. It must have been determined to allow air to also act as a curative because all bandages had been removed. Christine knew that if deep enough, that injury could affect the nerves in the patient's hands, the nerves so necessary for his use as a telepath. No doubt the same healer would address that injury to prevent lasting damage. It might have been on his advisement that the bandages had been removed,

As Christine came closer to observe him he became agitated, his head thrashed to the side that faced her and his eyelids fluttered. With that apparently involuntary movement, his hand slipped from its position across his chest. As she touched him he immediately quieted. It almost appeared that his hand was seeking hers. She placed his hand across his stomach. But, where their skin had touched she felt a strange tingling sensation, almost like an electrical charge. She thought, 'How strange.'

Christine quietly left the site. She decided to do some personal research into the Vulcan Healing Trance. She was under the impression that they were impervious to any of their surroundings and only the most intense, painful stimuli could register a response in the Vulcan while in that state.

Indicative of the truth of her reasoning was the fact she had witnessed a Vulcan's arousal from his trance-one that necessitated not only repeated slaps but eventually a punch to his face.

Christine had only lightly touched that patient, so pain, other than from his injuries was not involved/ The question was. 'What outside force had been so powerful that the patient responded to her brief, light contact?' She flexed her right hand as she again recalled that prickly sort of feeling she experienced when her hand had touched his.

Maybe her bed was not going to be her first option this late evening, for she had to find answers.


	3. Chapter 3

July 1, 2011

A/N: M'Celeste here! My sister Botsey said I could write one of these, so here it is. I want to thank her for letting me play in her sandbox; allowing me to torment Lo'vaak and give Lars (last seen on the floor at Lo'vaak's bachelor party in 'Christine's Story') a last name and a voice. A loud, insistent one.

Of course, Christine, Janice, Charlene Hikaru, Nyota, Leonard, etc, etc, don't belong to me either. Dang!

**Number Three: While in a bar on Star Base 25 **

Two Betazoid Hybrids Walk Into a Bar

"Why don't you come?"

The two friends, both of them Healers United volunteers, had availed themselves of yet another opportunity to work together for a worthy cause. And now that the outbreak of Rigelian fever on a beleaguered start up colony had finally been contained, they were taking a well deserved breather on Starbase 25. In a few short days they would get on with their respective lives. One planned to meet up with his father's ship, the other would board a long range shuttle taking him on his life's next great adventure. Lars Lundgren wanted his friend to join him.

"You really should come along, Lo'vaak."

Lo'vaak looked pensive. He'd been in an odd mood since arriving here; distracted, agitated, quiet, almost sullen. This subject had been broached before. Lars took his friend's silence as an opportunity to press his case further.

"Think about it. What are you going to do when you get back with your father? Butt heads! What else! Then you'll run off again to blow off steam, cool down after a few weeks, return to daddy – and then repeat the whole damn cycle. Except next time you won't have me to meet up with and talk sense into you." Lars punched his friend's shoulder companionably. "Besides, San Francisco General needs another Vulcan healer."

"Maybe I'll go to New Vulcan," Lo'vaak countered, knowing full well that he wouldn't.

"Oh, please," Lars shouted, "I know better. You thought home-grown Vulcans were too Orthodox before? Well, now they're ten times worse, as if trying to out-Vulcan Surak himself. Take your sorry, half-breed butt there and you'll get your feelings hurt."

Lars put his hand up as Lo'vaak opened his mouth to speak. "And before you even say it, Betazed's no better. They think you're hilarious; a Vulcan playing at being Betazoid. They think I'm funny too! But at least I have family on Terra.

"Besides," he continued, "Terra has whole communities of off-world misfits like us…" Lars stopped talking long enough to look around.

"Where in the name of the Four Deities are you taking me?"

o~O~o

They had been shouldering through the crowds of Starbase 25's notoriously seedy recreational district for the better part of a quarter hour; Lo'vaak seeming to have some specific destination in mind. Stopping suddenly mid stride, Lo'vaak looked up at the animated holographic sign for Chuptak's Bar and Grill. Snatching the door handle open he let himself in, Lars followed in his wake.

Lo'vaak didn't know why he was here, just that he had to be here.

After pushing his way in and finding a table, Lo'vaak snapped his fingers in a gesture universally understood - and hated - by wait staff everywhere. Not long after taking their order and credit chit, the overworked waiter returned with a decanter of some dubious blue substance and a magnum of amber colored wine. Lars reached for the decanter and a glass. Without a word Lo'vaak took up the bottle.

Lars looked with concern at his friend, who was not usually a quiet drinker. Keeping his empathetic shields up out of respect for the man's privacy, Lars attempted to loosen his tongue another way.

"Been flying lately?"

Lo'vaak's brow creased as he considered the common euphemism. Unsealing his bottle, he counted back two months, three weeks and six days since the last time he had been with a woman. _Is that what ails? ... _he wondered to himself. Putting the bottle to his lips, he took a deep swig of the tart and potent jackarine wine. This particular Betazoid intoxicant was one of the few drinks on the menu that could trump his Vulcan hybrid physiology. He planned to take the edge off. Maybe get trashed completely.

"Ha!" Lars shouted triumphantly, correctly reading his friend's non-response, "Just as I suspected. You've been as twitchy as a half starved bog wolf ..."

"Enough, Lars."

"…and in just as good of a mood!"

Lars, determined to have a good time despite his ill humored friend, opened his empathetic shields just enough to get a read of the room. Aware of a sudden, strong and increasingly heightened emotional shift, he glanced over his shoulder to locate the source. His eyes eventually tracked towards an out of the way corner of the bar that, for some reason, was the most densely packed corner. A smile split Lars' face as realization dawned.

"Ah, I think your worries are over, my friend."

Lo'vaak's eyes followed the path Lars' had taken.

"The Deltan," Lars said, jerking his head in a seated female's direction, "She's sizing you up, man."

There, draped in some yellow, diaphanous garb was a Deltan woman. Despite being surrounded by patrons of every stripe and hue, she seemed to be focused on one person only as she caught and held Lo'vaak's eye.

"Lucky mutt! Ever fly Deltan?"

Lo'vaak ignored his friend. Drawn - despite his Vulcan control - to the woman across the room, he felt strangely detached, mesmerized. She was beautiful! _Or maybe not_…he reminded himself, temporarily breaking off eye contact. With Deltan pheromones going at full tilt there was no way of knowing exactly what he was seeing. Not that it even mattered.

And then came that feeling again! Stronger than ever. The absolute certainty that he was here in this place for a reason. That something was about to be written in stone. Lo'vaak's eyes came back up. The Deltan's eyes were still waiting. _Could this be... Is she the one?_

"They say you should experience it at least once."

Lars' voice broke the spell and brought Lo'vaak back to the here and now. Shaking his head clear, Lo'vaak replied with a rueful smile, "Yes! Yes, of course."

This would simply be an exchange of favors, nothing more. Vulcans had always been deemed unapproachable, now they were rare. She'd notch her belt, he'd notch his.

Perhaps he would go to Terra after all; put down roots for the first time in his life. Grow up for a change! He was getting far too old for the life he was leading. Yes, he would consider it … Later.

Right now he had an itch to scratch.

Grasping the neck of his bottle in one hand he stood and walked with a slow deliberate stride to the other side of the room. A hush fell over the bar as other patrons moved out of his path or craned their necks to see. The Deltan smiled radiantly as she stood to meet him.

He had thought he'd come here to find something … someone? …to fill a nagging void. Instead, all he'd found was the promise of depletion and a vessel for his release. _Ah well. kaiidth. What is, is. _Looking dispassionately down into the Deltan's comely face, Lo'vaak made the conscious decision to lose his control. Free hand playing at the small of her back he turned her, guiding her through the door and into the artificial night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~O ~ o ~ O~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Come on Janice, hurry up!" Christine Chapel cried to her friend Janice Rand, "You're making me late for my own party!"

"Calm down, Ms Early-For-Everything," replied Janice, drawing the brush through her hair one last time, "If anyone can afford to be late it's you."

o~O~o

En route to Terra as they neared the end of their historic inaugural five year tour, the crew of the USS Enterprise found themselves waylaid on Starbase 25 for unexpected, emergency repairs. After determining that said repairs would take the better part of two days, the Captain had granted a few hours leave time to all but the most essential crew.

There was no better place for them to be stranded on.

Operated jointly by the United Federation of Planets and Zeta V, a nearly vacation world, Starbase 25 was at once a military base and resort, a dry dock and port of call. Happy for the protection, not to mention the revenue dropped by hordes of grateful travelers, Zeta V let the Federation 'do their thing'. The Federation, happy for financial assistance in running a military installation, especially during this post Nero period of rebuilding, pretty much let Zeta V do theirs. The result was a laid back, live-and-let-live atmosphere popular with civilians and members of Starfleet alike.

Taking advantage of the setting, several good friends from various departments around the Enterprise decided to throw a party for one of their own, a friend whose life was in flux. Christine Chapel was one of only a handful who would not be taking planetside assignments while the Enterprise underwent a complete year long re-fit. Her long term future pretty much undecided, Christine had opted instead to sign on for several short term medical assignments on the USS Hope. Her arrival back on Terra after her final tour would be almost near the time when the rest of them would be shipping out for another five years. Beyond that... she hadn't a clue. Well, there was always Nyota's offer to stay with her and Spock in San Francisco. That might be a good temporary fix. She'd consider it after her final tour.

The only thing she knew with any degree of certainty was that she was going to find a place for herself, eventually. She was going to feel whole one day. It was simply a matter of time.

In the meantime, she had a party to go to.

o~O~o

Grabbing Janice Rand's hand and running whenever they could, the two friends puzzled their way through the crowded, dimly lit 'streets' of Starbase 25. Finally, laughing breathlessly like school girls, they arrived at their destination, Chuptak's Bar & Grill.

Janice glanced at her companion dubiously. "You're having your party here?"

"Are you kidding? I love this place! The food is great; the drinks are cheap. What's not to like?"

As they opened the door they were hit by a deafening wall of sound. Christine raised her voice above the din, "Look for Hikaru or Charlene, they're holding our table."

"Is Ny coming?"

"No," Christine shouted, her disappointment evident, even over the noise. Nyota Uhura, her very best friend, was in the second month of what was already shaping up to be a complicated pregnancy. "She's in sickbay,"Christine continued, "Leonard wants to keep an eye on her."

Tracking the crowd, their eyes stopped at the pair of wildly gesturing arms attached to Charlene Masters. They reached the large semi-circular booth at the same time as Sulu, who was walking gingerly from the counter balancing a tray of drinks.

"I'll be your waiter this evening,"he said laughingly as he placed the drinks on the table.

"This place is slammed," he continued, "They had a little excitement here a minute ago. Some Deltan bagged herself a Vulcan. Seriously Christine, you just missed it."

"He was mighty fine." Charlene added.

Ensign Hollins, a lab tech from Medical, sat there slack jawed. "I never saw a Vulcan swagger before...," she said, her eyes glazing over as her voice trailed off.

Charlene slid down the length of the bench seat and patted it, indicating room for two. As they slid into the booth, Charlene grabbed Christine's arm, pulling her close. "Girl," she said in a low voice, "That was so not meant to happen. I thought of you the minute he walked in the place. Had half a mind to stick out my foot and trip the wench."

And on and on the conversation went, the general consensus being that some brazen 'hussy' had stolen Christine's Vulcan.

Christine frowned a little, though she wasn't sure why. After all, it was all meant in jest; everyone knew about her penchant for Vulcans. But still, her gut reaction shocked her. Sadness? Disappointment? Where the heck had that come from? But Christine Chapel was a trooper and kept her game face on.

Even though her heart just wasn't in it anymore.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

A/N: Talk about bad timing and bum luck. I was shooting for melancholy with a dash of humor. If you think it succeeded, please give Botsey a shout.

In fact, give her a shout anyway. Today's her 39th wedding anniversary!


	4. Chapter 4

**Four Times Missed Christine's Story Prequel Chapter Four**

**Number Four**

The continued volunteer assignments on the USS Hope seemed to be just the thing that Christine needed to get her thoughts in order. Fortunately, the continuing missions were not ones fraught with dangers or emergencies of any kind. The ship was on course to visit several colonies to run tests that would validate that these colonists were adjusted to their new homes. The rest of Christine's missions would be completed within eight months.

The fact that no stress was involved, allowed Christine to think deeply about her future. She had wondered if she should strike out and seek a new home, maybe a new planet. But actually, her greatest pull was toward San Francisco, besides her home state, Louisiana, she had spent the greatest amount of time in that city. And, she could not help but think of Nyota, her best friend. She had talked to her every week while away. Nyota had explained on the holo-vid, she was not going to allow Christine to see her body until they could be face to face. Christine was not sure if that meant she had gotten huge, or if surprisingly she still had a remnant of her wolf whistle eliciting figure.

The co-pilot of their earth bound shuttle had just put on the 'Engage Safety Harness' sign and it was flashing its usual red warning. She just reached over and secured her belt. The USS Hope was in supply dock, all of the medical staff was being transported to earth.. Thankfully, on the last trip there had been no need to bring patients onboard. So departure was simple. When visiting the last settlement their ship's medical staff had quickly contained and then immunized the planet's populace against a troublesome virus. Upon return to Terra the medical staff was given two days leave. This allowed two things, the non-medical crew could inspect the ship thoroughly because areas normally off-limits to all but medical would now be assessable. Also, supplies could be brought aboard for stocking for the next trip with little hindrance. Christine just wanted to take a real shower, a really long one, to lie down in a queen size bed and be left alone until it was time to board the ship again. As she slipped between the sheets she remembered, she had forgotten to contact Nyota…..

`0`0`0`0`0`0

Lo'vaak, had finally contacted Lars, "Is the offer still open?" Lars quipped, "I've had your room waiting for weeks. Once you get settled there are plenty of apartments available. Just one question, bro.. "What took you so long?"

Lo'vaak looked away from the screen, " It's a long story" .

Lars then wiggled his eyebrows and said, "You never did fill me in on your flight with the Deltan.

"Yes, Yes, I know." He had a faraway tone to his voice. "You'll get that tidbit when we are in a quiet place, with drinks in our hand.

Lars chucked, "That good huh."

"I don't want your brain to get a sepsis infection, so take your mind out of the gutter," was Lo'vaak's response.

"Touché," Lars said. "Get back to me with your flight schedule. You know I'm going to meet you, my melancholy friend, to get a head start on all your activities during my absence from your life."

After the transmission had ended, Lo'vaak stayed seated before the com unit. Lars was correct. He was adrift. The only thing he was certain of was he was being drawn by a force he didn't understand, drawn to Terra. Why? He remembered his father's declaration, "Your life is without real purpose. With that direction you might as well be somewhere mining dilethium" In that instance he had agreed with his father. That is how he ended up on Direidi. He had been to every god-forsaken planet this side of the galaxy, had been aimless now for years. The few planets of merit he had visited did not address his need. Why the pull toward Terra?. He had experienced this feeling twice in his life. Once on Star Base 25 when he was drawn to that specific place, Chuptak's Bar and Grill, before his fling with the Deltan. Well he wasn't going to go there.

The second time he vaguely remembered the strangest experience while he was on the USS Hope, in his healing trance. At that time, it was as if there had been resolution, the answer was there with him, as a matter of fact, right by his side.

When he was finally brought out of the trance by the repeated slaps of a Dr M'Binga, he had looked about for the answer that he knew had been there with him and it was not there. That experience was like a few fleeting wisp of fresh air experienced by a miner trapped in a underground Hades that had given momentary hope.

He was unaware that when Dr M'Binga arrived Christine had been transferred to the doctor's ship. M'Binga would stay until Lo'vaak departed just to make sure everything with him had been restored to normal. This doctor and a Dr. McCoy of the Star Ship Enterprise were the two humans who were considered experts in all areas of Vulcan and Betazoid physiologies

Lo'vaak returned to the mines for his pay, his contract had expired while he was in the trance. In an effort to avoid legal proceedings, all the injured were given exceedingly generous bonuses. Of course, the families of those killed were guaranteed the deceased's salary plus bonuses for twenty-five years. That appeared to be an offer that the deceased's families could not or did not wish to refuse. Although it was the mining company's wish that some seasoned workers would remain as supervisors for the next group of workers, but that was not part of Lo'vaak's plan. From a monetary point of view, it might appear enticing, but Lo'vaak's whole view of things had changed. Life threatening experiences can have that affect on one-the realization of ones mortality can indeed be sobering. The one positive was that all of Lo'vaak's burn injuries healed perfectly. The only physical remembrance of the event was the scar on his right hand which had faded from the angry red mark to now a faint ridge of keloids.

He wished Lars was with him, he was truly a soul in search of something, a person adrift in a sea of doubt and uncertainty. He needed level, stable ground upon which to rest his feet. Is that not what Lars had offered-a stable job, his companionship, and a listening ear. Because of what he perceived as the first time his life would hold some personal unselfish focus, and because of something else, not clearly identified, he knew he must go to Terra, just as he knew he was suppose to be at that seedy bar on Star Base 12 those many moons ago.

The next non-stop flight to Terra would not leave for three days. He debated with himself, did he want to stay on Direidi for three more days or should he hop the shuttle that would jostle him around in space for five days. The decision came easier than he thought, his inner self demanded, 'Get the heck off this piece of rock,' at least he would be heading in the direction of his final destination and perhaps where he would find some answers.

He contacted Lars, explained his plan and his friend interjected, "I suppose you couldn't wait to get off that piece of rock."

Lo'vaak simply nodded and answered, "ETA is Thursday at 0900 hours. It did sound immature and uncharacteristic, but he said to his friend, "I can not wait to see you." Before Lars could respond with a more than witty come-back, Lo'vaak terminated the transmission. He was sure that Lars had all in readiness for what could best be described as a 'Welcome Home Party,' even though he had never been to this' home' before.

`0`0`0`0`0`0

Once his patient was discharged, M'Binga stayed a while with the USS Hope, eventually he was transferred back to his post and Christine returned to complete her tour. It had been almost eight months since she had volunteered for these assignments. Within just a few days they would be back at Terra. She hadn't exactly mapped out her plan, but she knew she was faced with decisions, and more decisions. One thing she knew she wanted to do was visit Fisherman's Wharf. She felt that it was there she could reconcile everything. She thought about Gaila, she knew that Nyota thought of their friend often also. She had mentioned it a few times. But fortunately for Nyota, she had things to fill her voids, a husband, a Vulcan one, and two boys on the way.

But in her case, the void, the feeling of not belonging to anyone to anywhere, still remained. As she told Nyota any number of time, "I am jealous of you in a good way…" She thought, maybe it was envy, it was Nyota's life of perfection that she wished for herself.

Well, she did know that the ship would arrive at the docking stations and by the time she secured whatever she was going to take with her perhaps twenty minutes would past. A shuttle would then take the medical staff to the terminal it was just a short flight. Once she got into San Francisco, she would secure lodgings at the Academy's housing. Everything she did not take would go into the storage facilities provided for active and off duty fleet officers. Since the rooms were furnished, even providing linens and kitchen needs, she was not in a hurry to unpack boxes and boxes of her belongings.

`0`0`0`0`0`0`0

Lo'vaak was fortunate. The unappealing nature of this chosen transportation allowed him to stretch out his legs across several seats, or even make himself a sleeping area, he presently was the only passenger in the section. He had chosen the superior class seating, after all, he could afford it and meals were included.

He could look out of the portal and view the continuous streaks of light that was an indication of the speed this vessel was traveling. This fed his anticipation and allowed him to reason on his current emotional state. The reason the trip on this transport would take five days was that they would make several stops as they followed their prolonged trip, freight was delivered and picked up for delivery. He was so familiar with that routine. Now on the non-working end of that activity, he did appreciate the hard work involved.

He was amazed that he continued as the solitary passenger in this class. Maybe the solitude was good for him or maybe not. That feeling, that unmistakable pull toward Terra continued to intensify as they got closer to his final destination.

When they approached Terra, their flight registration and ultimate destination had to be checked and as they slowed a fast moving shuttle passed them, Lo'vaak's stomach lurched and his head spun and the pull to earth was the strongest he had ever felt, it was visceral. The one thing that that experience granted him was that he was now at the right place, at the right time.

The feeling stayed with him as he disembarked. His ship, a large transport docked on the upper level of the station, that aforementioned fast shuttle docked at the lowest. As Lo'vaak exited the air lock doors he spied Lars, blond hair askew, grinning wildly and waving a small sign. "Welcome Home". Lo'vaak shook his head and uncharacteristically sighed.

On the lower level Christine was bustling out of the door to catch transportation to the Academy, while Lo'vaak was being hurriedly led to the parking lot by Lars who was babbling like a teen age human.

"Do I have plans for us. Don't think you are going to sleep tonight, by brother"

Once at Lars' vehicle Lo'vaak stowed his luggage just as a public ground transport, stating its destination, 'Star Fleet Academy' passed them. His eyes involuntarily followed it as it sped down the highway and he felt his stomach knot.

A/N Well, you have now read of the four failures. As you have been able to observe in these postings, both of these two characters are searching. Of course Christine's Story gives us the happy resolution. But, these stories help us to see that for these two persons the individual search was of long duration..


	5. Chapter 5

There is no material profit gained from writing these stories. They are a labor of love, payment is readership and reviews.

Dear Readers:

Well, this is it. We have been so waiting for this. I hope you enjoy this final lead in to Christine's story.

As usual, thanks to StarQuilt57 for the use of Sirin and his family.

The One Time She Totally Didn't…Thank Goodness…

Lars awoke to the sounds coming from the other bedroom. He allowed his mind to seek out the sounds. There were moans, the sounds of extreme restlessness.. He decided that he would look into the situation. He padded down the hallway, opened his friend's door, the light from the hall allowed for slight illumination. The bed linen was twisted around Lo'vaak's body, his respiration was irregular. Lars heard his moans and Lo'vaak's head kept moving violently from side to side. Lars was certain that Lo'vaak would shortly wake up so he quietly closed the door. He did not wish to give his friend the impression that he was being spied on. What he did notice was that these nights of terror had increased in frequency. This night was the most severe. He could not figure out if these were brought on by stress from his job, memories from Direidi or by some unknown cosmic force singular to Terra. He just knew his friend was troubled.

`0`0`0`0`0`

Lo'vaak had settled into his new job and was on first name basis with his Vulcan boss, Sirin, a orthopedic surgeon known throughout the Federation. Every Embassy on Terra had his business card. His knowledge of just about every skeletal structure, humanoid or not, made him a much sought after physician. Lo'vaak enjoyed his boss's company, and was welcomed by his family. This new transplant sensed that Sirin could sympathized with his loneliness. Perhaps he had gone through a similar experience when he first came to Terra. So it was that because Lo'vaak felt so welcome, he spent an inordinate amount of time with this family. Lo'vaak had told Sirin he considered him his _t'hai'la, _his Vulcan blood brother.

Lars, also in want of a stabilizing influence so at times accompanied Lo'vaak to visit Sirin. He was also welcomed into the family circle.

Lo'vaak was kept extremely busy with his work as a healer both at San Francisco General and at the Academy. Lars was working as a private duty nurse. Lo'vaak's talent had been broadcast among the Vulcan population and at times his work day was fourteen hours long. But the underlying current, the issues that remained a mystery to Lars that apparently continued to be unresolved kept making their way to the surface. He could not figure out the common denominator for this restlessness. He wished his friend would open up to him.

Lo'vaak had started doing something Lars had never observed before. He now took time to meditate, had purchased a asenoi and set up a meditation area in his bedroom. Whether this was started to relieve the stress associated with his job, or was an activity suggested by other Vulcans was not revealed, but Lars knew something had to give. 'Well'. Lars thought, 'At least I will not be witness to this too much longer.'

`0`0`0`0`0`

Lo'vaak was to take possession of his own apartment this week. He found one right in Zoidstown, so named because of the large percentage of Betazoid or Betazoid hybrid population within its sixteen block radius. His apartment was in Lars' building, two floors down. Perhaps the solitude of his own place where he could be alone with his thoughts without some sort of compulsion to share his problem with his friend would be a good thing.

`0`0`0`0`0`

As he positioned his last piece of furniture Lo'vaak uncharacteristically sighed and plopped down on the overstuffed living room chair. He was satisfied with the apartment's set up, location and now its furnishings. He had made the purchase at a store called 'Ikea'. Today he was determined he would do some personal shopping. He needed clothes. His meager wardrobe needed something besides his Vulcan tunics and non-descript black pants.

He inquired as to where he should go to shop and his workmates suggested a shop near the tourists' attraction, Fishermen's Wharf. It appeared that the shop, 'For Gentlemen of Note-Fine Clothing for the Discriminating Male,' was an excellent place to secure fashionable, up to date attire.

He found public transportation to take him to the site suggested. As he walked the streets he observed the shop he was looking for. The catch phase, 'For The Discriminating Male' caught Lo'vaak's attention. He entered and immediately was greeted by a gentleman dressed to impress. Who exactly he was attempting to impress was not ever discerned by Lo'vaak. The salesman seemed to hover over him, smiling, preening, raising his eyebrows and Lo'vaak remained clueless, not because he had never encountered a _sa-ka-ashausu_ (male homosexual) but because his mind was preoccupied with other matters of major importance. As he entered, what did catch his eye was a table that displayed colorful- no boldly colored shirts. He picked out fourteen, lavender, lime green, yellow, turquoise, pink, powder blue, deep blue, forest green, red, gold, purple, orange and even a white and black. He then selected a style of pants, double pleats in the front, side pockets, none in the back, someone had mentioned that that style would be most flattering to his body type. He purchased six pair, two black one grey, one navy, one brown and one tan. The salesman suggested that he try the trousers on but Lo'vaak declined. His mathematical calculations had allowed him to know with a certainty, all the clothing would fit perfectly.

Disappointed at not being able to see this off-worlder in a semi-undressed condition, the now almost sullen salesman assisted Lo'vaak to the cashiers' counter and then turned abruptly as the entrance door bell jingled and he went to greet another male customer. The salesman's last thoughts as he left Lo'vaak was, 'You win some, loose, some.' Turning and displaying every one of his perfectly capped teeth he said, "Good day, Sir, Welcome, how may I assist you…?

Lo'vaak determined that after shopping he would go to the Academy, and drop off his purchases at his 'office'. While in his space he decided to change his clothes. The color that first commandeered his attention was the red shirt. Stripping off his tunic he slipped into beautifully colored garment. While there was no mirror in the room, he did feel satisfied that the shirt would look fine.

He had already spoken to Sirin that morning and planned to meet him at his house. It was before noon when he finally made his way to what he now referred to as his haven-Sirin and his family's home. All the stories he had heard of domesticity were embodied in that house. Sirin's mother-in-law Esther said to him, "I wish I had another daughter, I would give her to you." In this setting, he saw first hand, what a Vulcan/Human relationship could accomplish. The devotion of this couple was so intense it made Lo'vaak's longing even more powerful. He reasoned that perhaps his pull to Terra would find its culmination in a relationship like theirs.

This afternoon Sirin was taking him to his cousin's house around the corner. If he was there, they would stay awhile, if not Sirin said he was going to track him down.

They were greeted at the door by a very pregnant, extremely beautiful Terran woman, As a matter of fact, this Terran woman was breathtaking. Sirin introduced her as Nyota, his cousins wife, and bondmate. She informed them that her husband was at the Academy decimating another chess challenger. Deciding not to wait, they had exited the house when Lo'vaak's attention was drawn to a female figure, as she walked toward them. She stooped down and plucked what appeared to be some sort of flower. He had a catch in his throat as she continued her approach. Sirin grabbed his arm and said, "Let us try to catch him in the middle of his game." Then he shook his head and said, "That is not likely. The corpse will probably be laid out for viewing by the time we get there."

Sirin explained, if they did not find Spock at the Academy, they would just turn around and come back for Spock would not be long stay away from his Aduna, Nyota; the force that centered his life. Sirin thought to himself the parallel between himself and Spock. He was certain that neither one of them would have found what they had in their lives if they had not come to Terra.

The vehicle started moving forward as Lo'vaak saw the woman as she looked at addresses while she walked down the street. His breath became uneven and he continued to view her through the side view mirror until they made their first turn.

`0`0`0`0`0`0`0`

The next morning, Christine exited her building still annoyed over the latest exchange between herself and 'Bones'. He claimed he did not know what he should do had unsettled her. He was an extraordinarily gifted brilliant doctor, very much valued by Star Fleet. His knowledge of Vulcan and Betazoid physiology was only matched by one other doctor. She knew his uncertainties were all triggered by his failed marriage and subsequent abandonment of his daughter. But, she could not longer serve as his crutch. She told him he needed to get away from Captain Kirk and The Enterprise to do some soul searching. She knew their relationship as drinking buddies were not conducive to any healing on McCoy's part. It remained to be seen what he was going to do.

Christine set her jaw and shook her bowed head and then, POW, an moveable force hit an immoveable object. She raised her eyes to observe a dark eyed Vulcan, dressed in of all things. a lavender shirt, how strange; as singular as the Vulcan in the red shirt she had seen yesterday. He stared at her. The hairs of her neck stood at attention. His eyes never left her face. They both moved, again on a collision course. His eyes bored into her. Again, another collision.

Holding one hand out in front of him, the other splayed across his chest-at that point, Christine observed a scar. It started at his right thumb and went diagonally across the back of his hand. It flashed in her mind where she had seen it before-on Direidi, on a Vulcan's hand. She attempted to steady herself for she could hardly breathe. They stood facing one another for untold time, as if glued there. They stared at each other. Finally she heard a mellow voice that said, "Perhaps if we both step to the right we might avoid another collision."

This she did, but his eyes never left her face and where they had touched there was that same feeling, that she had experienced on the vessel USS Hope, in the hospital ward, when she had positioned the Vulcan patient's hand on his stomach. It was like an electric current that traveled up her arm and flooded into her chest.

He stood motionless. Finally, almost with embarrassment she took a step backward to move away, all the while shaking her head as if to shake herself back into reality. She turned and walked slowly toward the west gate. Lo'vaak's eyes never broke contact until her figure was lost to him.

`0`0`0`0`0`

Lo'vaak, in his attempt to gain control, attempted to regulate his breathing, tried to see what was around him past the mental picture of the face belonging to the figure as she retreated. His mind was joyous, there was now no longer a conflict, just a hunger, a longing that made him know, at last he was at the right place at the right time. He had just experienced, _shan'hal'lak_, Vulcan 'love at first sight,' after his long search. This one is his _I'mcadi, _The One, The First. His lifelong physical and spiritual partner. A Betazoid was truly blessed to find such in their life time.

Now he knew why he had come to Terra, why he was here this day, at this time, at this place. There were no more questions except, 'Who is she?' He had traveled the galaxy in search of her, so that should not be an insurmountable problem. Her uniform, spoke of her connection to Star Fleet. Lo'vaak, as one of Star Fleet's registered healer had access to their student enrollment files, which of course contained each students' and graduates' image. Before even taking that step he would first have to discuss this with Lars and even maybe Sirin, who as a Vulcan might have had a similar experience.

`0`0`0`0`0`0`

Christine continued her brisk pace so she could the catch transportation to Fishermen's Wharf. She reviewed the events of a few minutes ago. At that moment, the event appeared to be so intense that it completely dominated her thinking. But, she had to put things into proper prospective, she thought about what had just happened; she had an encounter with an off-worlder who apparently was not aware of the affects his telepathic powers could have on a human. That was it, it was not personal, not directed toward her, just a fluke of nature. She thus justified, what she had felt, sensed and observed as 'nothing out of the ordinary' based on the circumstances. Based on that concept, she was able to reason that she would certainly never see that particular Vulcan again.

(Yah, right.)

A/N

Well folks that's it. We know how the story turns out because we have all read it.

Thank you for reading. If you have any comments, good or bad, let me know. Again, thank you for sticking with the story.

Botsey.


	6. Epilogue  Part 1

A/N: It's M'Celeste again. I had a good time writing the third chapter of this story, so much so that I asked my sister Botsey if I could write an epilogue. She said 'have at it' - so here it is. An epilogue of a prequel sounds a little silly, but these events, featuring a very newly married couple, fill in and overlap the space between 'Christine's Story' and the beginning of 'Lights, Camera, Action'. This is the first of a four parter. The rest will post periodically.

By way of warning, unlike Botsey, I'm not the biggest fan of 'fluffy' fluff'. My variety tends to be a little crunchy around the edges. Call it 'pan fried' fluff, if you will. Aside from a once over by our other sister, this is completely un-betaed.

Same disclaimers apply. I own nothing related to Star Trek.

Four Times Missed - Epilogue - Part One

It would take some getting used to, especially after that first failed attempt made a few short days after their bonding.

Betazoid telepathy, a no holds barred volley of thoughts and emotions between like telepathic minds, could easily overwhelm a psi null. Without strict control on the part of the telepath, the end result was nothing more than a one way intrusion. For someone as private and habitually self contained as Christine Chapel, it had proven to be an all out assault. The full-out blast of intellect-exuberance-bombast-passion-ego that comprised the mind of Shan T'lek Lo'vaak Nuk streamed full force into his wife, rendering her almost catatonic.

Lo'vaak pulled out immediately, letting their Vulcan bond slide back into place.

Gasping as though coming up for air, Christine sputtered, "What the _heck_…?"

"It was me, k'diwa! Please forgive me. I fear I am too much for you….. ….. …..…..Have I said something that amused you, wife?"

So, for now at least, they would limit themselves to Vulcan telepathy. The elegant neurological link formed by a Vulcan bond, coupled with intense training on the part of the psi null partner, could allow even a non-telepath to actively control which of their memories, thoughts and emotions 'crossed the bridge', and when to allow their passage. This would allow Lo'vaak to respect his wife's privacy for as long as she felt the need for it. And truth be told, there were some aspects of Lo'vaak's past - most of it, in fact - that he didn't mind keeping to himself as well. At least for now.

And so it came to pass over the course of many months that Christine and Lo'vaak's prior near encounters gradually came to light. Although one revelation can be credited to someone else entirely….

-~o~O~o~-

Time the First - Young Christine's Healers United Holovid:

Whenever Lars Lundgren invited himself over to his newly married friend's apartment for dinner, said friend Lo'vaak would invariably end up kicking him out. Their friendship, though decades long and rock solid, was also prickly, competitive and occasionally combative. Couple that with the fact that the blonde, Scandinavian Betazoid hybrid - naturally gregarious and chatty to a fault - had absolutely no concept of time when in social situations, and it came as no great surprise to Christine when her husband once again showed Lars the door. Though admittedly, this time was far more entertaining than usual.

It had started uneventfully enough, with Lars once again appearing just in time for dinner. (The couple ate at various times still it didn't seem to matter; the man had radar.). After helping himself to a generous share of Christine's cooking, he tipped a chair to the side - sliding a stack of PADDs onto the floor in the process - sat down and tucked in. He then proceeded to do what he did best. Ingratiate.

"Christine my friend, this is an outstanding meal!" Lars exclaimed. Leaning across the table, he turned the full force of his considerable charm on Lo'vaak's wife. "Who taught you to prepare this Betazoid dish? Certainly not your chauvinist husband!"

"Oh! No, Lo'vaak isn't like that at all. He's a huge help in the kitchen."

"Then you have somehow managed to transform this Vulcan reprobate into a proper Betazoid husband. I salute you."

Lo'vaak quietly placed his fork on his plate.

Lars continued on, undaunted, " But I liked you from the very beginning, Christine. There was always something about you. From the very first moment I met you I sensed that you were an extraordinarily kind hearted, compassionate person . No doubt, the type inclined toward taking in strays as a child," he added, glancing meaningfully toward his friend.

Lo'vaak leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

Sensing a subtle shift in mood, Christine, ever the peacemaker, smiled politely when she might have laughed. Lars, on the other hand, was rendered even more cheerful by Lo'vaak's blackening disposition.

"Christine, speaking of childhood, there is something I've always wanted to ask you. Your name, while not rare, is nonetheless fairly uncommon, and you're certainly pretty enough to be who I think you might be … though I'll be very disappointed in my friend for not telling me… Did you ever produce a holo-vid as a child?"

Without ever actually pausing for a reply - or to draw breath for that matter - Lars went on to recount the event from twenty five years ago when he and Lo'vaak, young Healers United volunteers, had been dispatched to Carter's Planet in the wake of a Gorn attack on a gathering of Youth Scouts.

"Yes…" he continued, "…that would be just the sort of thing you would initiate. Even at such a young age! What were you then, seven? Eight?"

"I was seven," Christine answered quietly, by now blushing from the attention. "It was nothing, really."

"Nothing? You have no idea what it meant to us, do you? I'm surprised that Lo'vaak never told you how your gesture lifted our spirits. _I_ was so deeply moved by your production that I saved it to my YouVid account. I still play it from time to time. Lo'vaak!" Lars shifted in his seat to face his now glowering friend, "Why didn't you tell me they were one and the same?"

Silence

Lars' face brightened like sunshine. "You never played it from the beginning, did you? You completely missed her, didn't you? Ha!"

Suddenly Lo'vaak jumped up - knocking over his chair in the process, marched over to the entry way and flung the door open. Then, slowly, he turned to face Lars.

"Ah'tuk!"* Lars exclaimed, his black eyes suddenly as wide as saucers.

Striding over to his friend, Lo'vaak grabbed Lars by the back of his collar and seat of his pants - lifting him as easily as a small sack of flour - then walked to the door and threw the now laughing man into the hallway, slamming the door behind him.

From the hallway came the sound of Lars' muffled voice. "I know what _your_ problem is, Vulcan bugger. ... Ouch!" This was followed by the sound of muted laughter trailing off in the general direction of the elevator.

Lo'vaak reluctantly turned to face Christine, who was by now standing with arms akimbo and head tilted in inquiry.

"What was that all about?"

"He was being ridiculous."

"So? We're talking Lars, right?"

"He was monopolizing your time."

"I wasn't aware of any competition for it."

"He … sat too close to you."

"Baby, our table is two thirds of a meter square. He could hardly help that."

"He…" Lo'vaak averted his eyes as he finally confessed, "He saw you before I did. Bastard."

Clamping down on the smile that threatened to split her face in two, Christine closed the distance between them and enfolded Lo'vaak in an embrace. He cupped her derrière to draw her closer and rested his chin on the crown of her head.

"Lars is right. It seems I'm more Vulcan than I care to admit. This is entirely new to me, My Christine. I've never been possessive. I've never been jealous before … I've also never _loved_ before."

Lo'vaak felt the ball of Christine's cheek against his chest as it lifted in a smile.

"You bring out my baser Vulcan instincts," he explained, a sheepish smile starting to form.

"Really?" Christine craned her neck back till she met her husband's eye. "Well, I just so happen to _love_ base Vulcan instincts."

One eyebrow rose in mock astonishment

"I'll show you later. Come here first," she added, taking one of his hands in her own.

Leading him to the comm unit, she moved a chair in front of it, pushed Lo'vaak into it and perched herself on his lap. Logging onto YouVid she quickly found Lars' upload. Settling back in her 'seat', Christine went on to re-visit the childhood epiphany that eventually led her to a life of medicine and service.

And Lo'vaak, mesmerized by the lisping, solemn, purpose-filled young beauty on the screen before him, got his first inkling of what their daughter - a four week old fetus still unknown to everyone else, even her own mother - might look like.

-o~O~o-

* Ah'tuk - A very rude (made up) Betazoid curse. You don't want to know.


	7. Epilogue Part 2

A/N Sorry guys, I _still_ can't get rid of Lars…

Time the Second - In a sickbay on the USS Hope:

Something was wrong.

Twenty minutes before Lars answered her call Christine knew something alarming had happened. She had just showered and crawled into bed when she felt what could only be described as a switch going off in her head. Suddenly Lo'vaak was gone - yet, on some altered level still there.

After several unsuccessful attempts to reach her husband by comm, Christine bit down on increasing feelings of panic and dialed Spock in the hope that he might know where Lo'vaak was. All Spock could tell her was that Lo'vaak had recently left from working with The Survivors at the Embassy and was headed for his on-call shift at Star Fleet Academy.

After taking a breath to steady herself, Christine dialed Lars. He answered on the first chime

"Christine, I'm on my way to get you," he said, his voice calm and steady. "Don't be alarmed. It's not serious but there's been an accident."

Five terrifying minutes later, Christine was completely dressed and at the entrance to their building when Lars' land car pulled up to the curb. Still dressed in nurses whites from his private duty shift, Lars quickly hopped out of his vehicle and came around to assist Christine into the car. After turning the car around for the return trip to the hospital, he went on to explain what had happened.

"… faced with the choice of hitting either the red light runner or the pedestrian, Lo'vaak put his bike down. He has a slight concussion, two partially fractured ribs, skin abrasions on his left face, shoulder and arm - and more luck than he deserves. The policeman said he wasn't wearing his helmet."

Lars hazarded a glance in Christine's direction. She was tightly wound and shaking slightly, with a far away look in her eyes.

"He's in a healing trance by the way, in case you're wondering about how it feels in your head."

Lars sensed Christine's momentary relief. Then suddenly her tension spiked with a vengeance as the source of it shifted from worry to anger. It was directed at … Lo'vaak? …but also at himself.

"Look Christine, whatever it is, get it out before we get there. Go ahead and take issue with me if you have to."

"The police called you, not me. Why?"

"Apparently Lo'vaak still has me listed as his emergency contact."

Sighing in frustration Lars continued, "Christine, you have to realize … Inside that idiot is a perfectly sensible Betazoid locked in constant battle with a raging Vulcan. Believe me, he knows how strong and capable you are, but at the same time, he still feels the need to protect you. To _over _protect you. Especially now that you're carrying the baby. It's instinctual Christine. He probably doesn't even realize he's doing it…"

Lars maneuvered his ground car into a space near the entrance to the ER. After turning off the engine he faced Christine and lightly touched her arm. "Better?" he asked.

Christine nodded tightly. Although some of the tension had dissipated, Lars sensed that this was the best she could do under the circumstances. She needed to see her husband.

"Go on, then," Lars said, jerking his chin in the direction of the ER, "Go see dumb-ass."

~o~O~o~

Christine greeted Lo'vaak's physician, Dr. Jabilo M'Benga, with a hug and sigh of relief. She had served several years on the Enterprise with the noted Xenospecialist and knew that Lo'vaak could not be in more capable hands. Switching into professional mode, M'Benga led Christine toward the Trauma Bay as he updated her on his patient's progress.

"…your husband is in remarkably good shape. The CORE and Quickplasts* come off in another hour. I bring him out of the healing trance in two. Another hour or two after that and he'll probably be discharged." M'Benga shook his head and chucked. "Before inducing his trance he informed me that he'd be back on the job the next day. He might just be right.

"Funny thing," M'Benga continued with studied nonchalance, "I had another Vulc-Beta patient many years ago who healed just as rapidly. I vividly remember him having some difficulties, though. I recall him becoming quite … agitated when I brought him out of his healing trance."

Doctor-patient confidentiality, not to mention M'Benga's natural circumspection, forbade him from mentioning precisely what this 'agitation' entailed, but being pinned to the wall while having 'Where is she?' and 'What did you do with her?' shouted in at least seven Federation languages had etched the incident forever in M'Benga's mind. Minimal research on his part revealed that Nurse Chapel had been with this patient on the USS Hope right before Jabilo's arrival.

_Those two have more history than they're letting on, _M'Benga thought to himself as he held back the privacy curtain for Christine. _Month long courtship my foot… _

~o~O~o~

Christine walked into the darkened trauma bay – and was nearly overwhelmed by the sensation of being in two places at once. The air left her lungs in an exhalation as if she'd been sucker punched in the solar plexus. Reaching for the chair next to Lo'vaak's biobed, she pulled it over and dropped into it.

Lo'vaak was resting quietly, his handsome face partially obscured by Quickplasts and a strip of his upper abdomen encased by a thrumming CORE unit. Aside from the soft _click-whirr_ of the CORE there was no sound whatsoever – until Lo'vaak's arm suddenly dropped from his chest, rustling sheets as it slowly traced its way across the bed. The hairs on the back of Christine's neck suddenly stood upright as everything snapped into place. Parts of her husband had always seemed vaguely familiar – the curly black hair, the 'v' shaped scar on the back of the hand that was currently searching for hers – now these things had context.

She had been with him once before!

Ten years ago she was a young cadet aboard the USS Hope as it circled above the disaster on Direidi, a dilithium mining planet. She had help attend to those needing critical or special care. Lo'vaak hadn't had a name then, only a number. He hadn't been a healer then, but a miner.

Christine didn't know what to think anymore.

Taking his hand in hers only added to her welling maelstrom of emotion. Linked now by his touch, along with the wispy tendrils of mental activity which escaped from Lo'vaak despite the healing trance, she sensed the turmoil coming off of him in waves. Christine had to employ every calming meditation she had ever learned just to keep from bolting out of the room. In two hours Lo'vaak would be awakened from his trance. In two hours Christine would ask him some very serious questions. In two hours she'd expect answers.

Two immeasurably long hours…

~o~O~o~

One sound slap to the face and Lo'vaak was out of his trance. His eyes scanned the trauma bay frantically as though searching for someone. Dr. Jabilo M'Benga pushed Christine toward the bed and quietly left the room.

If Lo'vaak expected a tender moment he was sorely disappointed.

"Give me your comm."

"What?"

"I said, give me your comm." Christine repeated, holding out her hand.

Lo'vaak, who had some idea where this might be heading, opened the top drawer of his bedside table. After retrieving the requested object, he handed it to Christine without a word.

"Baby," Christine said as she tinkered with his comm's personal settings and synchronized them with those on her own, "I like Lars a whole lot, but don't you ever, _ever_ put him between us again. Here," she said, tossing the unit back to Lo'vaak, "Now I'm your next of kin. Try to change it and I'll know."

Lo'vaak's brow raised in admiration. "Is there anything else I can do for you?" he inquired as he lay back on the bed and crossed his arms, his chest muscles rippling slightly with the movement.

"Yes - and stop trying to distract me! You can tell me why…' here her voice hitched, "…why you would ride without your helmet. Don't you know…." She punched his chest and burst into tears.

Lo'vaak sat back up in an instant, lifted Christine onto the biobed with him and cradled her in his arms. Of course he knew! Everyone Christine had ever loved in the past - her mother, her father, a fiancé - had been lost because of accidents. He would never do anything like this for a trivial reason. He had to let her know.

"Survivor 'Groupies'" he explained, carefully wiping the moisture from her eyes.

"What?"

Lo'vaak chuckled softly. "You'll never hear about it on the news as they're attempting to keep it quiet. Yesterday evening there was a security breach at the Vulcan Embassy. Apparently The Survivors, the group we've been assisting, have some very determined admirers. Determined enough to break into the perimeter to take souvenirs. My helmet, which I'd left hanging from my bike in the lot, was one of them. I had no time to find another before the start of my next shift at the Academy. From now on," he assured her, "my helmet goes where I go."

Lo'vaak was rewarded by a hug strong enough to squeeze the internal organs out of the average human male. He smiled at her effort and gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"Is there anything else?" he inquired.

"Yes," Christine said, still sniffling from her tearful jag, "What the heck were you doing on Direidi?"

Lo'vaak went completely still and closed his eyes.

"It _was_ you.," he whispered, "You were there."

"Yes, of course I was there. I was taking care of some idiot who had tried really hard to get himself blown up! Then I had to switch places - with Dr. M'Benga! He was the one who had to bring you out of your healing trance. What a coincidence, right? Anyway, that's why _I_ was there. Now why were _you_ there?"

_To find you. _Lo'vaak thought to himself. Then he came back to the moment.

"It's a long story, My Christine. Suffice it to say that my father and I have not always been at peace with each other. I was … exceeding his expectations."

Christine could tell that he didn't want to dwell on it. And despite her earlier determination to wring it out of him, she was okay with his reticence. They were both taking steps in the right direction, still learning about each other in stages. She'd be there whenever he was ready to talk and he'd be there for her. Right now they were both content to be in the moment. They lay quietly, holding on to one another.

"I believe I owe Dr. M'Benga an apology," Lo'vaak said, seemingly out of the blue.

Speaking of Dr. M'Benga…

~o~O~o~

Jabilo Dr. M'Benga had been following these proceedings in his own quiet way. A sappy romantic by nature, he'd ignored the chiming monitor that reported the sudden weight spike in Lo'vaak's biobed. A quick mental calculation had, after all, shown the difference to be nothing more than one 'Christine Unit'. Jabilo would let them have their moment.

Besides, he knew better than to get between this Vulcan and his mate.

Near the end of his shift M'Benga looked in on his patient one last time. As he pulled back the curtain, the scene before him met his every expectation. There was Christine, wedged into the narrow space between Lo'vaak and the wall. They slept soundly, their limbs so intertwined they resembled a pretzel.

M'Benga wished them every happiness in the world. Chuckling softly to himself, he closed the curtain, palmed the lights down and quietly left the room.

* CORE or Costa-Ossillic Regenerator - bone regenerator specific to ribs. Derma Quickplasts - topical treatment to accelerate cutaneous healing while preventing, minimizing or reversing scaring.


	8. Epilogue Part 3

A/N - M'Celeste again. Had a bit of a technical glitch. For whatever reasn, chapter 8 fell into a black hole. Last night, the Stats for chapter 8 disappeared; today, the entire chapter fell off the grid. (Yet, according to Publish, the story still had eight chapters. Go figure!) As a fix, I had to delete and re-post chapter 8. This probably means I'll lose the reviews. (Crud!) If anyone out there has a better fix, please let me know - just in case this nonsense happens again.

Time the Third - A bar on Star Base 25:

No doubt about it, they would need to move soon. Christine's pregnancy was progressing, and Lo'vaak's small apartment in San Francisco's Zoidtown district, a bustling Betazoid predominant enclave, would hardly be the place to raise a family. Their limited space was almost completely taken over by neat stacks of patient records and reference materials. Two dedicated health professionals lived here, but right now there was available seating for only one. So Lo'vaak's lap became Christine's seat. Neither one seemed to mind. That's where she usually ended up anyway.

This intimate seating arrangement suited them especially well at the moment, engaged, as they were, in an informal kash-naf (mind link). Her head and back rested against Lo'vaak's chest and his arms held her tightly in place. Their eyes were closed as Lo'vaak gently probed Christine's mind.

They had made real progress this day.

In what had been, for Christine, an extraordinary act of trust, she had opened her mind completely to her husband, granting him access to some of her most private thoughts and memories. Including intimate ones. To Lo'vaak's surprise, he learned that there had been only three others before him; one of those three being her former fiancé, Roger Korby. That relationship had been marked by affection, and loyalty - but very little passion. These revelations, and the discovery that the sum total of Christine's prior sexual encounters had been met and exceeded within five hours of their honeymoon on Risa had, for some unaccountable reason, given Lo'vaak a measure of smug satisfaction.

And now it was her turn.

Even after months of practice she still felt flat footed and awkward. Lurching through a process that would have been as simple as breathing to the youngest Vulcan toddler, Christine performed the steps she needed to take in order to navigate the mind of her Vulcan Betazoid husband: Va'num-Betau-Yak'kash (Seek-Approach-Request). She was slowly becoming more adept at maneuvering around in Lo'vaak's head. Perhaps a little too adept. Or perhaps he underestimated.

As she wandered through a previously undiscovered corridor of Lo'vaak's mind, Christine stumbled upon something quite unexpected - a closely guarded patch of mental real estate. Nothing fuels human curiosity, especially the feminine variety, like a locked door. This one was bolted, barricaded and triple padlocked. Having completed the 'Seek and Approach', there was but one step remaining, the 'Request'

'May I enter?' she inquired over the bond.

Lo'vaak's eyes flew open and he immediately shut down the link. He had let his guard slip! Christine's eyes fluttered open as she turned to look him full in the face.

"Baby, what just happened? What's _in_ there?"

"You needn't concern …"

"Don't you dare! I just showed you everything!"

One look at Christine's face and Lo'vaak's internal battle - forthright Betazoid verses secretive Vulcan - was over.

"I am deeply ashamed of some of my past actions."

"What are we talking here, baby? Cat burglar? Ax murderer?"

"I was … promiscuous, My Christine. Certainly so by Vulcan standards."

Christine shrugged. "That's all? I already guessed as much ... I mean, _look_ at you, you're gorgeous. And you have this whole … swagger thing going on. Like a sailor."

Lo'vaak pondered for a moment. "The simile is apt. I did live the life of a mariner on my father's merchant vessel."

Considering the rarity of Vulcan promiscuity Christine had a hunch. She carried that simile a little further.

"I'll bet you had someone in every port. Like a sailor."

"Yes, usually one. Sometimes two or more."

"Funny thing," she continued, innocently, "The last time I visited Chuptak's on Star Base 25, some good looking Vulcan had just swaggered out with a Deltan wench on his arm. That wouldn't have been you now baby, would it?"

"Ah'tuk!"*

"It _was_ you!"

"Were you there all that time, My Christine? Did you see me?"

"No, by the time I got there you had come and gone. I probably missed you by a couple of minutes."

Lo'vaak turned his face away. He was mortified.

"Lo'vaak, look at me, baby." Christine reached up and turned his face to meet hers. "Look at me."

Reluctantly, his eyes met hers.

"Now that I've got your attention, answer me this. Is this Deltan wench the reason you could teach me that little thing we did on Risa? You know, that addictive little thing we said we'd better save just for special occasions, otherwise we'd never leave the bed and end up starving to death because we wouldn't stop to eat?"

Lo'vaak's eyes slid sideways in avoidance, giving Christine her affirmation. They'd had _lots_ of fun on their honeymoon.

Turning in her 'seat' to face Lo'vaak, Christine swung one of her legs around to lock him down. Then her fingers traced a feather light trail, starting at his jaw line and going up, up to the tips of his hypersensitive ears. Despite his predicament, every Vulcan gene in Lo'vaak's body suddenly came to attention. All the Betazoid ones too.

"In that case," Christine said, sighing wistfully, "Ms. 'Deltan Wench' earned her one free pass. But.." Grabbing a hand full of shirt, Christine pulled Lo'vaak close, leaned into his ear and whispered, "…If she or _anyone_ ever touches you again I take them down. You're mine now."

Lo'vaak's inner Vulcan, that fiercely possessive/territorial part of his soul, fairly sang with happiness. This was, without a doubt, one of the nicest things his wife had ever said to him! And she wasn't finished yet. Over their bond came the nudge, '_Special occasion?_'

How could he possibly disagree?

As it turned out, this day _had _proven to be a very special occasion. Trust had been established and their bond strengthened by a shared painful memory.

And to top it all off, they had lots and lots … and _lots_ of fun.

~~o~O~o~~

* Ah'tuk - Betazoid cuss word. What can I say? Sometimes Lo'vaak has a mouth like a sailor.

A/N - The final part isn't near complete yet, so there might be another long lapse between postings.

Finally, 'd like to thank our small number of readers for your continued patience and interest - and our even smaller group of reviewers, especially VickyfromGreece, who single-handedly kept this tale from being 'review proof' for quite some time. :)


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