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“Hello, Dr Christine Chapel, I’m checking in,” Christine said to the front desk receptionist.
“Oh, you’re already checked in, room 3219, you can open the door with your hand print,” the chirpy 20-year-old told her.
“Great, thank you,” Christine dragged her tired ass through the lobby with her duffel bag on one shoulder. She hoped the rest of her luggage was waiting in the room, as she had not packed her dress for tomorrow night’s dinner in her carry-on.
After all the travel delays and transfers she’d endured to get back to Station One, she was ready to shower and curl up in her bed with some dinner and an old Earth movie until she passed out.
She stepped into her room and dumped her duffel by the door. She looked down and undid the collar of her uniform as she headed to the bathroom to shower, when she hit the wall. The tired laugh that bubbled in her throat faded as she looked forward to realising it wasn't a wall she’d hit but a person. A very naked someone, with her eyes glued on the well-defined, very male topless somebody, her eyes trailed up to find Ambassador Sarek, the owner of said body.
“Oh my God!” Christine exclaimed softly in a mix of awe and mortification. She was transfixed by the sight of him as he stood before her in nearly all his glory, towel slung low on his hips. She shook her head as she realised she was staring and immediately turned her back to him. Her heart pounding, desire pooling low in her belly as inappropriate thoughts filled her mind. It wouldn’t be the first time she thought of him so indecently, but it was the first time with him in the room with her.
“I’m so sorry!” Christine exclaimed loudly as she stepped to the wall. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment and arousal. She mentally chastised herself for being a pervert, especially as her mind catalogued all the things she got right and amended the parts she didn’t. “I thought this was my room!”
“These are my assigned quarters,” Sarek clarified, completely unbothered by her appearance as he brushed past her. Her body tensed up at the contact and practically moved to hug the wall. She closed her eyes and grimaced as she tried to think of a way to escape.
“No, the front desk said I was in room 3219,” she took a quick peek over her shoulder and glimpsed his well-defined shoulders as he pulled on his robes and looked right back at the wall. Yeah, that was going in the rubhub for later, Christine thought begrudgingly, “Am I in the wrong room?” she asked, needing to divert her thoughts and failing.
“This is suite 3219. You may turn around, I am suitably dressed,” Sarek informed her.
Christine inwardly winced; she quickly schooled her features and offered a smile. “Hi,” she said awkwardly because what could she say after that run-in?
“Good afternoon, you look well,” Sarek observed.
“I am, you?” Christine asked; she wished she’d put on a heavier coverage of make-up. She could only imagine how embarrassingly red she looked.
“I am well, will you be at the informal cocktail hour this evening?” he asked casually as if they’d bumped into one another in the hotel foyer.
Christine shook her head, envious and annoyed by his Vulcan nature. She was absolutely mortified, and he was acting like it was an ordinary Tuesday. Not that he had anything to be ashamed of. He wasn't having indecent thoughts about her or struggling to make eye contact. Her heart raced in a sickening pace in her chest; the irony that this situation stressed her out more than her job was not lost on her.
“No, I had a long trip. Speaking of, I should go,” Christine said, she had to get out of there. She picked up her bag, not making eye contact, “I’m sorry about, yeah,” she sighed as she didn’t mean to check him out or bring it up that she’d seen him in such a state of undress.
“There is nothing to apologise for,” Sarek assured her. Christine nodded and quickly booked it out of the room before she said anything more.
Once she was safely inside the turbolift, she blew out a slow breath, “Get it together,” she muttered to herself, her heart still pounding in her chest.
She’d been nursing a crush and frankly indulging some hot fantasies of Sarek on and off for the last few years. Given that their paths rarely crossed, she didn’t see the harm. It wasn’t like he was ever going to look at her like that. She wasn’t some lovesick young girl who had unrealistic fantasies that they’d cross paths, and he’d confess how much he wanted her. She inwardly groaned as she had already been there and done that with Spock. She had no plans to repeat that ever again, let alone with Sarek, his father.
She often wondered if her crush on him was her subconscious craving the fantasy of a man like Sarek. That controlled energy, his absolute competency, and the confidence he exuded. The fact that he was so loyal to Amanda when she was alive. She knew from her friendship with Amanda that their marriage was imperfect and complicated at times, but it was a happy one where Amanda had felt deeply loved. Christine wanted that kind of love, to be loved that way.
Or maybe it was that he had been such a stable and comforting presence in Christine’s life over the years. A friend who made her feel safe and sure of herself. Someone who fostered her confidence instead of cutting her down, thinking endless criticism was character building. She sighed, even years later, Korby’s damage and the slew of shitty men she’d dated over the years came back to haunt her. It was why she planned on never ruining the friendship with Sarek.
No, she’d just keep going as she was, resigned to her current self-imposed celibacy and her mildly maladaptive daydreaming in the dark. It was better for her sanity to keep on her current path and not lose it because she couldn’t find a decent man. The doors to the turbolift opened, and Christine stopped her maudlin thoughts and focused on the present as she headed back to the front desk.
“Dr Chapel, is everything ok with your room?” the receptionist asked, concerned as she must have read something wrong in Christine’s demeanour.
Christine set her bag on the floor and leaned on the desk, “No, because the room is already taken.”
“Already taken?” she asked, confused. Then it dawned on the young woman’s face, “Oh yes, Ambassador Sarek checked in early.”
“In my room,” Christine said.
“Yes,” she replied, looking as confused as Christine felt. There was definitely a miscommunication going on.
“I was told I’d have the room to myself,” Christine clarified.
“Oh yes, you do,” the receptionist winked at her and a knowing smile.
Christine frowned in confusion as it was a weird response to a very aggravating situation. “Why did you wink at me?” Christine demanded, her tone harsher than she meant it to be.
Now the reception looked thoroughly confused by Christine's response. She looked at her console, “The room is booked for both you and Ambassador Sarek," she clarified in a way that made it sound like Christine knew this.
“What do you mean I’m booked in the same room?” Christine asked.
“The booking was made for Ambassador Sarek and Dr Christine Chapel,” the woman repeated as if it would clear the situation up, which it did not.
“Yes, for two separate rooms,” Christine told her.
“For one room,” she corrected her.
Christine shook her head, “No, no, it’s meant to be for two rooms. Two very separate rooms.”
“The booking was for one room, see,” She helpfully showed Christine the booking. She was right, Christine and Sarek were booked for the same room. It had to be a computer error. She was paired with Sarek for the upcoming conference. But they weren’t together.
“Are there any available rooms?” Christine asked.
“No, we’re all booked up, the entire spacedock is with all the conferences going on,” the receptionist said. It gave Christine some comfort that the young woman was upset and understanding. She leaned in close and spoke in a low voice, “I apologise, but I thought it was customary for Vulcan couples to share-”
Christine’s eyes went wide as she realised why the woman had been acting so weird earlier. She gave a nervous laugh, “We’re together, but we’re not-”
“Christine,” Sarek said.
Christine turned to find Sarek a couple of feet away and closing in to join them. She just wanted a break, “Ambassador,” she greeted.
“Have they found your booking?” Sarek asked, he looked at her and then to the receptionist.
Christine inwardly groaned as she didn’t need him inserting himself into her problem. However, before she could politely tell him to go away and not worry, the ever-unhelpful receptionist spoke up first.
“Ambassador Sarek, as I was explaining to Dr Chapel, there must have been a miscommunication with us and the Vulcan embassy when the booking was made, as it appears you’re booked together, for the same room,” she explained.
“There is an error on your side,” Sarek told her.
“No, the booking was for one room. In your previous stays with the hotel, you and your female companion always shared a room,” she said in a low voice. She clearly was trying to be as respectful as she could.
“I see,” he looked rather uncomfortable at his personal life being openly discussed, “Dr Chapel prefers separate sleeping quarters.”
Christine’s eyes went wide at the inference he just made. If she hadn’t been shocked by the information that he frequented the hotel with ‘female’ guests. That did it.
“All the accommodation on the spacedock is booked. Even the emergency back rooms are taken, I deeply apologise for the inconvenience,” the receptionist told him.
Sarek took a deep breath and pondered the matter for what looked like half a second. “Then we shall share,” he conceded.
“We will?” Christine stuttered.
“We shall,” Sarek said.
The receptionist gave a relieved sigh. “That is great, we will comp your breakfast and send up a bottle of wine for the inconvenience. I’ll have a bellhop take Dr Chapel’s bags to your room.”
“Come, we shall share end-meal,” Sarek told Christine. He held out his arm to her. A very old, human custom.
Christine reluctantly took his arm and allowed him to escort her away from the front desk.
“Sarek, I can’t stay in your room,” Christine hissed in a low voice.
“Where will you sleep?” he asked.
“In the lobby,” Christine answered, anywhere but the same room as him. She needed distance and him to be fully clothed to remind herself of the set boundaries between them.
“It would be unbecoming of you,” Sarek informed her.
Christine fought the urge to say it wouldn’t be the first time. “It would be inappropriate for us to bunk together.”
“Why?” Sarek asked.
“Why? Because people will talk,” Christine told him.
“I see you speak of the dissemination of what could be perceived as salacious misinformation to provide entertainment and–”
“You know it’s called gossip, just say gossip,” Christine snapped. She huffed a frustrated breath as this whole afternoon was too much after the long day of travel. She didn’t miss the faint amusement in his expression before he grew serious.
“I do not care what others think, I only care that you are well rested and safe for the night,” he said sincerely.
Christine looked at him as they walked. She saw the determination in his expression, “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“No, I will not,” Sarek stopped walking, and they turned to face one another. “It is in your best interests to comply as I despise resorting to emotional manipulation,” he said, there was an edge of daring to his tone.
“As if you’d stoop that low,” Christine scoffed. She felt herself relax for the first time since arriving. They fell into a very familiar pattern for them.
“I have spent many years on Earth, and in that time, I have found it to be a most useful tool to employ when dealing with humans,” he informed her.
Christine held her hands up in surrender, “Fine, you win. I comply.”
“Thank you,” Sarek said.
They fell back into their normal friendship with ease. Sarek didn’t mention her seeing him half naked, and she didn’t talk about the revelation of him having ‘female company’ at the hotel. Everything was going great until they returned to the suite and Christine remembered their problem. Or, more like her problem, she knew Sarek saw nothing untoward about sharing a bed. They were friends, and the boundaries were set in his mind.
The problem she realised was that while she could respect those boundaries and control herself awake. She couldn’t say the same while she was asleep. What if she had a sex dream or wrapped herself around him in her sleep? She was a cuddler, all her past partners told her. Now the closest warm body tonight would be Sarek. She was fucked and not in the fun way.
She looked at the bed; it was dangerous territory, which only left the tiny two-seater lounge. She took a fortifying breath; she could survive one night. She’d slept in worse places during the Klingon war and on offworld missions.
“What are you doing?” Sarek asked as she pulled the pillow off the bed.
“Taking the couch,” Christine answered.
“It is illogical for you to sleep on the couch when the bed is perfectly adequate for our needs,” he told her.
“The couch is perfectly adequate for my needs,” she said.
He raised an eyebrow in mild disbelief. “It is too small to accommodate your body, and the floor is too hard.”
“It will be fine, it’s one night,” she assured him as she sat down, taking up half the couch. It was much tinier than she expected.
“This is becoming juvenile, we are both adults capable of sharing a bed to sleep,” Sarek drawled.
“I just don’t share well,” Christine said sheepishly.
“I am becoming acutely aware of this; however, it is one night, I am certain we will both survive with our dignity intact,” he assured her, as he took the pillow from her and returned it to its proper place on the bed.
“I’m not sure about that,” Christine mumbled while his back was turned.
“What did you say?” he asked.
“I’m sure you’re right,” she lied. She quickly grabbed her toiletries and led her to the bathroom. The whole time she was there, she talked herself up, she reminded herself that she was a grown woman, and she could be an adult about this situation. She’d shared beds with friends and nothing happened. If she accidentally rolled over, Sarek would roll her back, right? That’s what Nyota did when they had to share a tent.
She changed into her pyjamas and stepped out of the bathroom to find Sarek sitting on the couch meditating. He opened his eyes.
“Bathroom is free,” she said.
He inclined his head and disappeared into the bathroom to tend to his needs. Christine packed her things away and turned back to the bed. Her pep talk and confidence evaporated in a hot second.
She shook her head, this sharing the bed business was not going to work… she told herself as she went to the wardrobe and pulled out the spare pillows and lifted the top sheet and blanket and built a pillow wall right down the middle. She knew it was childish, but she’d rather save herself from the indignity of waking up on top of him.
By the time Sarek returned, she was awkwardly lying in bed as she watched him. He was dressed in simple cotton pants that hid nothing, no shirt. Heat rose to her cheeks, her heart pounded in her chest as she vainly tried not to be aroused. She was failing miserably as Sarek dimmed the lights and got into bed.
“What is this?” Sarek asked.
Christine made the mistake of turning in bed to face him. He looked even better half-naked in the flesh, looking at her. He even smelled good, the one thing her fantasies were missing. The scent of warm Vulcan incense and something undeniably male.
“I move in my sleep,” she replied. She hoped he was using his nasal suppressant, as she couldn’t control how aroused she was just looking at him. The blanket twisted in her hands as she tried to keep them from reaching for him.
“You are the most unique bed partner I have had,” he mused in an idle tone as he looked at the pillows with an expression of mild amusement and was vaguely affronted by the pillow’s existence.
“How many bed partners have you had since…” She left the rest of the question unasked, as it had been a few years since Amanda’s death. She didn’t pretend to understand how Vulcans processed grief.
“Not many, and they have been purely for physical reasons,” Sarek answered. He must have seen her surprise at his unguarded answer. “You look surprised.”
“I just thought-”
“Vulcans may be reserved, but we do have physical needs like other species,” Sarek said, his eyes wandering the pillow line between them.
“Of course, it’s just that Vulcans really don’t like to share such vulnerabilities," Christine said diplomatically.
A faint curl of a smile played on the corner of his mouth, “unlike humans, we do not care for oversharing personal information.”
“Yet you’re sharing it with me,” Christine pointed out in a low voice. There was something deeply intimate about talking in bed like this. She didn’t realise how much she missed and craved this intimacy until right in this moment.
He gave a slight shrug as an answer, a very human-like gesture as he looked at the pillow wall, “There are aspects of having a human companion that I miss. I can never replace Amanda; however, I do not wish to be alone for the rest of my days.”
“I can understand that,” Christine said softly, one thing she did understand was loneliness.
“There is someone I am interested in becoming my companion,” he stated, his tone hopeful before his expression turned pensive. “However, I have not made my overture yet to see if she is interested in a romantic liaison.”
“She’d be mad not to say yes,” Christine scoffed.
“She has a propensity to build walls between us, physically and emotionally. It is rather amusing and frustrating,” he admitted as he picked invisible lint off one of the pillows between them.
Their gazes connected, Christine’s heart pounded in her chest; it was stupid to think she was who he was talking about. The man could have anyone.
“Do you have any advice on how I should approach her?”
“Be honest with her, just tell her how you feel, exactly how you feel,” Christine told him.
“I adore you,” he told her.
Christine felt the intensity of his words; she instantly hated this woman and wanted to be her. “That is a good start, great one, actually,” she said breathlessly.
“No, Christine, I adore you,” he clarified.
“What?”
“I adore and have greatly desired you for quite some time,” Sarek informed her.
“You have?” she stuttered.
“I have,” he confirmed.
“Don’t fuck with me, Sarek,” Christine said as she propped herself up on her elbows and looked at him.
“I do prefer not to use such vernacular, however, in this moment I should clarify that I wish to fuck you and more than once, if you are agreeable,” Sarek drawled, a tiny smirk playing on his lips.
“I can’t believe you just said fuck,” Christine said, flabbergasted as she’d never seen this side of him. Granted, she imagined it, but seeing the reality of it was something else. She didn’t smell burnt toast, so she wasn’t having a stroke-induced hallucination. It was not a dream, as her dreams of Sarek rarely involved talking.
“We could discuss my expansive vocabulary if you prefer,” he teased.
“No,” Christine shook her head, “I'd rather we get back to you wanting to be with me?” she asked as she tried to remain calm, but the truth was, she was panicking. Was she imagining this? Or was he real? Part of her didn’t want the disappointment if he was toying with her.
“You seem to be in some kind of disbelief that I could be attracted to you,” Sarek stated.
“I am, you could have anyone,” Christine argued.
“I want you, I wish to be with you, in any capacity you see fit. If you do not feel the same, I will respect your decision,” he said. He eased onto his back and looked up at her.
“I am interested,” she said quickly.
“That pleases me greatly,” he said warmly. He took a deep inhale and settled into the bed. “We will discuss the particulars of our relationship tomorrow after you have rested.”
Christine’s jaw dropped open as the man just said he wanted her and then had the audacity to go to sleep, “You expect me to sleep?”
“Rest is important,” Sarek informed her in an almost facetious manner.
“You can’t–” Christine stopped as she was lost for words.
He opened his eyes and looked up at her, “I cannot what?”
“You can’t say you want me and then go to sleep, it's” she struggled for the right words, “rude.”
“What do you suggest I do?” Sarek asked, his eyes glittering in the low lighting.
She opened her mouth; she could think of many things he could be doing to her. However, she didn’t want to offend him; maybe he was being a gentleman or it was a Vulcan cultural thing she didn't know. “Never mind, go to sleep,” she flopped back onto the bed and pulled the blanket to her shoulders.
Sarek shifted in bed, turning to face her. “Would you like to know what I am thinking right now?” Sarek asked. Christine felt a pillow be removed from between them. When she didn’t reply, he slowly removed another pillow. “Your scent is absolutely divine, and I will enjoy many countless hours mapping every curve and valley of your body,” he slowly traced his finger across her exposed collarbone and up her neck, his voice and heated gaze mesmerizing her, “with my hands, my mouth, and my tongue. However, for now, I would settle for a kiss.”
His hand gently grasped her neck, “May I kiss you?” he asked, his lips hovered just over hers.
Christine nodded, not trusting herself to speak as she was too wound up with nerves and desire. She half expected a soft exploration, a brush of the lips before a deepening into a more passionate embrace. What he gave her was completely unexpected as he kissed her like he wanted to devour her. She couldn’t help the needy moan that escaped her nor reaching for him.
The kiss was everything she imagined and so much more. He kissed like a man who knew what he wanted, knew how to give pleasure and grab it for himself. Christine drowned in him, in the wanton desire, the toe-curling pleasure as their bodies entangled.
Christine knew at that moment; the friendship was definitely going to be ruined, but it was for the better.