Fic- Her Undoing
Christine sighs as she wakes from a restless sleep; every night was the same thing, the same dream. He never fails to appear in her dreams and the dream never fails to bring her off, and every time she wakes up more confused than the night before. Every day she showers, applies her makeup and dresses while thinking of him and his dream counterpart the night before. She can’t get the man out of her head, and every thought she has makes her more desperate, makes her mind scream for her to do something, to make him hers.
Christine can’t tell you when it started, after all, she doesn’t know herself, but she can tell you that it’s swiftly growing out of control. She finds herself hiding from him. She eats her breakfast in her room so she will not risk seeing him outside of sickbay. She has taken to spending the largest part of her shift in the stock room or doing some sort of project that will take her out of his orbit, and take him out of her sight. Because when she sees him, watches his muscled arms stretch and fill out his science blue tunic, she feels things she can no longer reign in. And not touching him is becoming more and more difficult. She sighs in annoyance, unable to even stock the supply cabinet without thinking of him. Her mind is a constant buzz always getting worse around him, to the point where one of these days she may drive herself crazy. She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn’t hear him approach her, until he said her name out loud.
“Chapel, you still in here?”
She squeaked in surprise at his voice and hit her head on the top shelf of the unit she had been stocking. And she can’t help the “shit” that comes out as she massages the spot she’d hit. She thinks that it’s fitting the whole situation, he just keeps sneaking up on her, and she’s unable to shake him.
He tries to cover his smirk, but doesn’t do well, and even in her annoyance that little upturn of his lips does something to her. It makes the buzzing in her head all the more louder and she really does wonder how he hasn’t hears it by now.
She just glares at him, “I’m here, Dr. McCoy. What did you need?” She can tell he is trying not to smirk at her, but he is losing and the sight of his little half smile does nothing to quell the attraction, or that almighty sound she hears when he is around.
Any trace of his smirk is gone as he leans on the doorjamb his arms crossed, asking, “So what did I do? I’ve not seen anyone so studiously ignore me this long since my ex-wife and trust me Chapel that’s a look that’s not flattering on you.”
Christine’s heart nearly stops and she kind of wants to smack him for comparing her to his ex-wife. But she schools her features, refusing to give him the rise he is obviously trying to illicit from her. They may not be sleeping together which her subconscious clearly wants, but she does know him all the same. “I don’t know what you are talking about doctor. I’ve been doing inventory, not ignoring you.”
Leonard snorted, “I see that you are sticking to that story.”
He sighs and slips his hands into his pockets, his voice pitched low, and his draw “seriously Chris, if you wanna talk about it my door is always open for ya.”
She nods and offers him what she hope’s is a genuine smile, trying to ignore the way his drawl warms her insides and makes the noise in her head roar louder.
But she sighs as he walks away, the internal voice in her head berating her for not admitting her feelings, for not doing something that would fix the problem, but she silences the doubt and tries to focus on the task at hand, but she is distracted by the noise, the constant hum that gets louder and louder with each passing day.
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Christine sighs as she finally relaxes on her own bed. It’s been over a week since she had that conversation with McCoy in sick bay, and two weeks since she’d started hiding from him. Two weeks since she’d begun dreaming of him, since she’d been unable to get him out of her head, since the infernal racket in her subconscious had started and its only ratcheted louder and louder with each passing hour. The worst times are when he is around. She groans in frustration, and sets the book she’s been trying to read on the bed next to her.
Christine can’t stop thinking of him, can’t focus on her book-paper even the ultimate in luxury for her-as she sips her favorite Chilean red wine, courtesy of her sister who had sent it to her recently in pity of her miserable situation. Because that’s what this is, a miserable no win situation. She’s in love with her CMO and damn if that doesn’t fly in the face of everything she ever swore to herself after the Rodger debacle. But that is the situation, in a nut shell.
Christine rests her head on the mass of pillows she arranged behind her and lets her eyes drift shut as she holds her wine glass. Of course that only brings flashes of McCoy unbidden to dance on her eyelids. She’s been unable to dream of anything but him. And every night it’s gotten more graphic and lurid, to the point where she woke up sweaty and exhausted from the kinky events of her dream.
Christine groans as she remember the dream, the way he looked, the way his voice sounded when he shouted her name as he came. Logically she knows it was a dream and didn’t happen, but damn if she hasn’t been thinking of it all day.
She sips her wine glass and sets it down again on the bedside table. And then her free hands drift towards the apex of her thigh, covered by her short gown which she’d already changed into after her shower. She had a moment of clear thought, that this was wrong, that she should most defiantly not be considering masturbating to fantasies of her boss. But the thought only lasted a few moment, and before she can really consider it further she has the hem of her nightshirt up to her waist and her fingers gently teasing the flesh of her upper thigh while she considers which of the numerous fantasies her minds has concocted of McCoy she should use for this new debauchery.
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McCoy is sitting in the mess eating a late dinner with Jim, who is currently chatting away, but he’s not really paying attention. His mind is focused on Christine, whose avoidance of him has only gotten worse since he’d confronted her last week. And today when he’d had to strip his uniform shirt off after it had become soiled by some green ensign who’d vomited on him after a night of binge drinking on that crap Scotty called liquor that come from his still, McCoy had caught her starting at his exposed chest.
It was an unnerving thought, he’d seen women look at him like that, sure, that had been when he was a teenage farm hand for hire in the summers, but still. He wasn’t sure what to make of it, either. He was attracted to Christine, hell any man with eyes would be, but there was the issue of the mess Korby had made of her faith in relationships, his own issues with relationships and most of all she was his subordinate. Plus he was sure she’d have his balls if he guessed that she was avoiding him because she was hot for him, and in reality she was just pissed, he’s not sure what to do about the situation but its been two weeks and its really gone on too long.
“So is this what it feels like when she does it to you? Is this why you’ve been so nuts that Chapel is ignoring you, because I’ve gotta say Bones, it’s annoying as hell.” Jim’s voice is smug as he interrupts McCoy’s thoughts.
“Shut up, kid. I’d rather not have the whole mess knowing the issues I have with my staff.”
Jim shook his head, “Fine. So have you tried talking to her?”
McCoy stabbed his salad and ate a bite before he responded, “Yes, last week, she blew me off, and is still trying to ignore me.”
Jim sipped his drink and nodded, “Ah. Have you considered that she may not want to talk to you, that maybe it’s about you.”
McCoy scowled at him, “Yes. But what the hell am I supposed to do about it, Jim? I don’t want to report her, but she’s the best nurse we have, scurrying around to ignore me isn’t the most effective use of her time.”
Jim nodded, his countenance serious and concerned for once, “So tell her that. You’ve given her time to come to you, you’ve given it time to resolve itself, but it’s obviously not, so go tell her that she’s got to fix it, talk to you or someone, but that she can’t keep avoiding you without facing some sort of professional repercussions.”
McCoy was unsure, “You think?”
Kirk nodded, “I do, you’re moping Bones. I don’t wanna watch it anymore, and as captain I want my medical team at top performance. Go talk to her in her quarters after dinner. It will resolve the situation and maybe she’ll be at ease in her own quarters.”
McCoy nodded. He finished eating quickly and then checked with the computer to ensure that Christine was in her room, before heading to it. He waits at the door for her to answer the ring to let him in, and the admittance never comes. He sighs in frustration and is about to go back to his own room when he hears a loud thump from within and his concern for her trumps any concerns for privacy. He uses the CMO override code to gain admittance into the room.
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Christine groaned as her head hit the wall just above her bed with some force, but she ignored it as she worked her thumb furiously over her clit, two of her fingers sliding into her wet cunt, setting a fast rhythm. Pictures of naked McCoy, his hands on her body, her own hands tied behind her back, danced on her eyelids and she was too consumed by desire and the fantasy to notice the hiss of the door, or the intake of McCoy’s breath as he saw her.
She grunted as she felt herself getting close, groaning, “Fuck Len, more, please, so close.” As she sent herself over the edge.
She pulled her fingers out, wiping them on the bed, as her breathing started to return to normal, and she opened her eyes.
Shock overtook her as she saw him, standing in her room, staring at her with lust filled and wild eyes. She blushed, a deep tomato red, and made a wild grab to pull her gown down so that she could cover herself.
But he was at her side, sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand gripping her making it impossible for her to move before she could even find the words to ask why he was here, or how he’d gotten in.
His smile was the definition of predatory, as he spoke, “Un uh, no need to cover up. This why you’ve been avoiding me for two weeks? Because, damn Christine that was about the hottest thing I think I’ve ever seen.”
She flushes even redder, which she wouldn’t have thought possible, “Maybe.” She ducks her head into her shoulder, suddenly feeling very ashamed. She is surprised to find herself gathered into his arms in a hug and the gentleness of it makes her flail inside, her voice rushing to explain, in jumbled tangents. “I, there has been this, I guess you’d call it noise, in my head, I can’t stop it, can’t stop thinking of you, not seeing you helped for a while, but lately its all the time. And God I sound ridiculous, but I couldn’t do anything about it, you’re my boss, more importantly you’re my friend, I don’t want to mess that up.”
He sighs into her hair, and strokes it in a comforting manner as he speaks, “I don’t either, Chris. But avoiding me because you’re thinking of me all the time isn’t the answer. And darlin’, I wasn’t kidding when I said that was the hottest thing I’d ever seen. I think I could come up with a cure for your ailment if you’re interested?”
Christine pulls back from the hug, her smile cocky and bright as she speaks, no longer so embarrassed, but still exposed, “Oh yeah, what did you have in mind doc?”
He grinned lasciviously at her, and leaned in for a teasing kiss, nipping at her bottom lip before kissing her properly. He pulled back and then slide a finger through her lingering wetness between her thighs, teasing her folds, “I think you’ve already administered the first dose, just repeat several times, with help.”
She laughed at the obvious line, but the sound was broken off as she watched him take his fingers into his mouth, tasting her on them. She shook her head at him, “This is bad holo porn dialogue.”
“Hmmm, the cure for that darlin’ would be to stop talking.” He said as he kissed her deeply, only to pull away too soon.
He gave her a grin before retreating towards the foot of the bed, and licking his lips unconsciously. “At the risk of sounding like the afore mentioned vid, take your top off.”
She swatted at his shoulder but he was out of reach. Then he starts pulling her nightshirt over her head as she talks, “I want you to know I’m humoring you, because I wanna see what you’re going to do. Next time you’re going to have to work for it.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less, Chris.” He says his tone light just before he grabs her ankle playfully, pulling her down flat, eyes raking over her body.
He runs a hand teasingly down the side of her breast, over her stomach and along her legs. She sighs when he touches her breasts, it’s nice, but not entirely arousing to her, but she shivers when his hand strokes over her stomach and positively quivers when he caresses her thigh.
She can tell he is paying attention because his hands creeps up the side of her thigh, moving her legs apart, causing her breath to hitch with every caress. She hears his groan as her legs spread and he can see her glistening labia, before she knows what is happening his head is burred between her legs and his tongue licks a wet teasingly soft stripe up her slit and dances too briefly over her clit. She groans, a loud drawn out sound that shows her appreciation, and he chuckles against her sex.
She feels the tension and lust coil together in her belly as he tongues her clit in earnest, doing things that no man has ever done before, keeping her interested, drawing her out, as she slides her fingers into his hair encouraging him. “Hmm, fuck Len. Better than I imagined unf.”
She can feel his smirk as he picks up the pace and adds pressure with his tongue. She’s close she can feel it and she knows that he’s figured it out as she starts to squirm. It doesn’t take much, just added pressure and more furious movements on his part and she is flooding his mouth, coming undone on the bed, as she pants his name through her orgasm.
He licks her clean, making sure he’s gotten every last bit of her, before he licks his lips, his voice hoarse when he speaks again, “I’m going to fuck you now, Chris. And if you’ve got an objection you better make it quick.”
She lets her eyes focus on him, and it’s only then that she notices he’s naked. She lets her eyes rake over him, from his sculpted chest to his incredible looking dick to his muscular thighs, wanting to memorize his body. But the moment is short lived because he’s back on the bed, on top of her, lining himself up and sliding home. They both let out low groans, his deeper and richer than her own as he first enters her wet heat.
She wraps her legs around him urging him on with a honeyed, blissful voice, “More Len, damn it.”
He obliges her, hitching her further up his hips, changing the angle, moving faster, a stream of encouragements and dirty words falling from his lips.
Christine moans at nearly every dirty phrase that drops from his mouth, and she’s pretty sure she’s never had sex this good which is saying something because she was engaged for a fucking year. She doesn’t even bother to censor herself when she starts speaking, “Fuck, Len. So good.”
He grunts his approval, and speeds up, “So wet for me Chris, you’re like a fucking wet dream, will and ready, hot and just perfect.”
She groans and trails her hands down over his back, she’s close again, can feel her orgasm building hotter and more intense than before. She lasts a few more seconds, and then is drawing her nails down his back and she shutters around him, her vision going blurry for just a moment. She has the presence of mind to briefly think that this is what toe curling sex must be.
McCoy follows her moments later, her name falling from his lips in a way that could only be described as pornographic as he empties himself in her and she is glad that she’s been diligent about getting her birth control hypo even though she hasn’t needed it is quite some time.
He pulls out of her and rolls to one side of the bed, tucking her under his arm, and drawing her close while he uses the other hand to pull her sheet over their sweet slicked bodies. She smiles as he drops a kiss on her cheek, and nuzzles her neck, “You’re perfect Chris. And damn it, I’m so glad you decided to ignore me for two weeks.”
She smiles as she lets him spoon her, and relaxes into his touch; satiated and content in a way that she hasn’t been in any other mans arms. She sighs, “You’re not bad yourself. Let me sleep for a little while, then tomorrow morning you can show me why I shouldn’t go back to ignoring you again.”
That draws an unusual chuckle from McCoy and she revels in the sound and knowing that she could bring it from him. McCoy bites her shoulder gently in retaliation, and she sighs happily, already slipping into sleep. And she realizes that she can hear nothing but the gentle hum of the enterprise. She smiles at the realization that only after her deepest desire has been satisfied, that the incessant noise finally silences.