Note: the title of this story comes from an episode of "The X-Files." Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and the Fox Network own the X-Files. No infringement is intended upon the show; it's just that the title is so appropriate for this story. For those who haven't seen it, folie a deux means "a madness shared by two." Star Trek is the Property of Paramount Corporation. No copyright infringement is intended by this story. This story is copyright 2000 by Jade Nocturnias and is not to be copied, reproduced, or distributed without my express written consent. A copy may be downloaded for the personal enjoyment of the reader only. This story is rated NC-17 for sexual situations and language. If you are under 18, or do not like sexually explicit stories, GO BACK NOW!

Folie a Deux

Jade Nocturnias

Christine woke slowly, unwillingly. She coughed twice, blinking in the semi-darkness of the ambassador's shuttlecraft. Wisps of gray smoke curled around the air like fingers. It was quiet; frighteningly so. With a groan she pushed herself to her feet and staggered towards the cockpit.

She hadn't even made it 5 meters before she found the ambassador's body. Even as she knelt to take his pulse she knew he was dead. Shock, and being thrown into the sides of the shuttle as it plunged into the ionic storm and crash-landed, were the most likely culprits. She had barely had enough time to get off the bunk she'd been sleeping on and crawl under it, clinging to a nearby grate with all her strength as Spock piloted them down. Spock…

"Oh, no. Oh, God, please no…" Christine ignored the aches in her sides and back and forced her trembling legs to enter the front of the shuttle.


Spock was slumped over in the pilot's seat. He had his crash webbing on. She moved closer, not daring to breathe. Was he…?

A sudden cough wrenched his body, and as he gasped for air she allowed herself to as well. Her dark blue eyes closed for a moment in powerful relief. Then she hurried over to him, hoping that the smoke would account for the tears in her eyes. She pulled the webbing from him and carefully eased him onto the floor. She opened a bulkhead which was undamaged and pulled out a medikit, running a scanner over him to check for internal injuries. He only had two broken bones in his right hand from where it had probably slammed against the control panel. Yet another miracle, she thought. Or that tough Vulcan hide, as Leonard liked to say.

She administered a light painkiller, then ran an accelerator over his injured hand to speed the mending process. As she finished and was preparing to make a light splint, his eyes opened and looked directly into hers.

Was it all Vulcans, or just Spock who had that heart-stopping gaze? She hadn't met many others, and certainly couldn't have done something so rude as to openly stare. He seemed to see past her body directly into her soul with his deep brown eyes. The last time he had gazed at her so openly was on Platonius…

Christine quickly pushed that thought from her mind, afraid that her physical contact with Spock might result in an inadvertent mental projection. She remained as neutral as possible in her expression and her voice as she informed him: "You're…undamaged, save your fingers."

He didn't speak, only continued to watch her as she finished making the splint. When she was done he said: "Thank you, Miss Chapel," in a voice that was slightly hoarse from smoke inhalation.

She only nodded, moving back as he stood up. Christine followed suit. He turned to the controls, lips tightening for a moment. "The comm system is broken." As his eyes wandered over the panel, his expression became grim. "As is the emergency beacon."

Christine swallowed hard, fighting back panic. Without either one of those systems working, the Enterprise would have no easy way to track them down. Depending on where they'd ended up, they could be stuck for days, weeks…

She screamed at her mind to cease and desist as she tried to concentrate on what Spock was saying. "Most of our supplies are intact," he noted as he opened and inspected other compartments in bulkheads. His gaze went back to the control panel. "It also appears that our phasers are still functional."

She snorted. Spock raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. He continued his inspection. "The walls are intact, and the basic structure seems sound. We will be able to stay here while we wait for the Enterprise to track us."

He turned his gaze to her face again. "I assume that the ambassador is dead."

She nodded.

He lowered his eyes for a moment. When he looked up again it was with an air of purpose. "We must examine the terrain. If possible, we will bury him. Is all your medical equipment functioning?"


"Excellent. We can scan native plants to see if they are edible. " He removed two phasers, handing one to her as he shouldered a tricorder. She took it hesitantly.

He noticed her reticence. "Miss Chapel?"

"The storm…" she began, then faltered. She didn't know how to put her thoughts into words.

He tilted his head. "Ionic storms are unpredictable. We could be only a thousand kilometers off our original course. Or we could be ten solar systems away. Perhaps even a galaxy. There is no way to tell how long, or far, we were swept along by the storm before it ceased."

She smiled, but there was no happiness in it. "I was afraid you'd say that."

"Given that there are no large predators, extreme weather systems, or other great environmental difficulties, there should be few problems with our ability to exist here until we are found."

"Just me and you and a dog named Boo," Christine said absently.

Both brows rose. "I was unaware that there was a terran canine aboard, Miss Chapel."

She laughed. It wasn't much, but it was genuine. "There isn't, Mr. Spock. It's just an old terran song that popped into my mind."

"I see." He obviously did not, but he also obviously did not want an explanation. Instead he adjusted his tricorder and set his phaser on stun. She did the same, activating her medical scanners and setting them to read plants. He paused with his good hand on the door panel. "Are you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

He hit the switch. With a creak and a whoosh, the external shuttle door opened and they stepped onto the descending platform to view this new world.

"I can't believe it…" Christine spoke in a near whisper.

Spock's eyebrows raised for several seconds before he replied: "Indeed. So far it would seem that we are most fortunate."

"THAT is an understatement." Christine couldn't help but feel a rush as she looked around her. Talk about the perfect vacation spot…

The surface of the planet was covered with dark green trees, some of which bore small yellow fruits about the size of peaches. Lush flowers in shades of purple and silver covered the ground. A warm, gentle breeze caressed her hair back from her face. The sky was orange with wispy white clouds. She heard the sound of rushing water. We must be near a stream or river, she thought.

It was just like those corny movies where a man and woman were stranded together in paradise. Except that she was with Spock, and there was a chance that they wouldn't be found in a few days like the characters in the films were. She thought of all the times when she'd longed to be close to Spock, to be able to be alone with him. She mentally made a note that the next time she caught herself making wishes like that, she was going to kick her own ass. Oh, the universe was cruel indeed; to grant her wish but not in the way she wanted it to happen…

Spock's voice brought her out of her self-recriminations. "There is a large body of water approximately 32.7 meters due east. So far, I detect no signs of animal life. Oxygen levels only 1.3 % higher than terran norm. No seismic activity, no volcanic activity."

She consulted her med-scanner. "The fruits on those trees contain no compounds toxic or harmful to either of us." She pointed at a patch of tubular reeds growing near the base of some trees. "Those are compatible with both our physiology as well."

"Excellent." He started down a slope towards the source of the water. "Let us examine the water."

Christine followed him, trying to ignore her reaction to the way the sunlight caught glints of copper in his hair. 'Would you please GROW UP?' she thought to herself in disgust. Mooning over him should only have been something she did at sixteen. She shook her head to clear out the sentimental cobwebs and quickened her pace to catch up to him.

He stopped at the top of the next slope, gazing down calmly. She reached his side and looked down as well, catching her breath at what was below.

A river ran at the bottom of the slope. Emerald green water washed over a bed of sienna rocks with trails of soft white foam. Impulsively Christine raced to the bottom, kneeling beside the water as Spock walked down with swift, graceful movements. She studied the readings of the water. "It's completely safe!" she exclaimed with relief. She scooped some into her hands. It was very warm for drinking, but it would make excellent bathwater since the facilities on the shuttle probably wouldn't work.

Unbidden the thought of Spock bathing in the river entered her head. Skin gleaming in the sun, droplets of water clinging to the soft curly hair on his chest…

"Miss Chapel?"

She looked up, startled out of her daydreaming. "I'm sorry, Mr. Spock. What did you ask me?"

"I was inquiring about the temperature of the water."

"Oh." She quickly looked at her readings. "Seventy-two point four."

He nodded. "Quite acceptable for bathing," he said, wondering why a faint blush crept to her cheeks at his words. She jumped up. "What are your orders, sir?" she asked to distract him from her face.

"We must attend to the ambassador's body. Then I suggest we examine our provisions. Sunset will occur in approximately 2.4 hours. We can determine further courses of action tonight inside the shuttle."

She nodded. Already her mind was racing again, despite her best efforts to control it. Now that it was apparent they were in no danger, and would have food and water to sustain them, the remaining realities of the situation were coming back with a vengeance. Her. And Spock. Alone on what seemed to be a tropical haven. Her pulse quickened at the prospect. 'Get a grip, Chapel. This is Spock you're talking about,' she thought. Oh, well. He was company if nothing else. She knew she could remain professional with him; she'd been doing it for years. She'd make the best of it. "I'm ready," she told him, and together they made their way back towards the shuttle.

* * *

"Damn you, Spock, what are you trying to pull?" Christine swore to herself aloud as she pushed through a close circle of trees. She was at a loss to explain Spock's sudden behavior change. Everything had been fine a week ago; hell, even three days ago. They'd spent their days studying plants, cataloging some new species. As far as she had known, everything was fine. And then, without warning, Spock had become…well, "irritable" was the only way to describe it. Non-communicative, agitated…. She was at a loss. He stopped eating, or ate next to nothing. Now when she had awakened that morning he was gone.

Stupid of him, really; her scanners worked just as well as tricorders for detecting life forms. She had locked in on him and started off. His readings showed that he was in a high state of something, she just wasn't sure what. They fluctuated wildly. He could be sick, she thought. But why would he not have told her so she could treat it? He was acting as crazy as that time two years ago…

As soon as it came to her, Christine knew several things at once, or thought she did; why he wasn't eating, why he had been short with her, and most importantly why he had left her. Lack of a bonding…unresolved urges… it all made sense in the worst possible way. Because if he had fled from her, it very likely meant that he intended to let himself die. Unfortunately for him, she planned on preventing that, even if it came to seducing him past all resistance. She couldn't let ANYONE whose life she could save die. And especially not Spock.

She found him sitting near the entrance to a small cave. His shirt was torn, his hair dishelved as though he had been running his fingers through it over and over. His eyes were glassy, almost feral. When he saw her he started to duck into the cave, but her voice stopped him.

"I can follow you in there, Spock. And if you seal it up with rocks I can take a phaser and blast them."

He clenched his hands behind his back. Of all the times for her to be logical, during a time when he no longer had that option. His voice was strained as he said: "Miss Chapel, please leave me alone."

"I can't, and you know that." At his apparent confusion she laughed dryly. "Oh, come on, Spock. I'm a nurse and a doctor. How stupid do you think I am?"

"I… I have never doubted your intelligence."

"Then why did you run away, knowing I could find you?" she demanded.

He sighed. "It was...not... a logical thing, I admit. But I had to... try and re-gain control."

"But you can't, Spock. You know that as well as I do. It's only going to get worse unless you resolve it."

His eyes were burning now, his trembling worsening before her eyes. "I cannot resolve it," he said in a whisper.

"Yes, you can."

He rose and paced away from her. When he looked at her his gaze was almost frightening. "We are not bonded. I have done nothing but reject you, yet you still make this offer." Now his eyes were hard as steel. "Why?"

"Because you'll die if I don't."

He shook his head. "That cause is not sufficient for me to take advantage of you."

"I'm offering! It's not like you're ravaging me!"

He winced at her words. "But it could come to that, couldn't it?" She asked as she took a step closer. He didn't answer. "You'd get to where you had no control at all, and you'd take me and never remember doing it."

"It is my intent to restrain myself before I progress that far."

"And then what? Let yourself die? "

He nodded. Now it was Christine's turn to clench her hands into fists. "You selfish bastard," she whispered.

His eyebrows raised, his expression incredulous that she was speaking to him in that manner. But she didn't give him a chance to speak. "Fine. You do that, Spock. You die and leave me here alone on this planet. And if something happens to me, well, you won't have to know about it."

His face turned ashen, as if he had not considered that possibility. She was right. He was her commander and therefore responsible for her safety. If he died now, he was violating his oath as a Starfleet officer and his own personal convictions. He sighed again wearily. He believed that he now had a personal reference for the terran phrase: "damned if you do, and damned if you don't."

She knelt beside him as he dropped on his knees to the ground. Her fingers gently traced his cheekbones. He shuddered. He could understand why humans were so preoccupied with sexual activity. If he felt this much from her touching his face, he could hardly speculate about being joined with her physically. He closed his eyes, reveling in the cooling touch of her hands.

"Do you want to die?" she asked softly.

He laughed, an exhausted and bitter laugh. "No. I would quite prefer to live, Christine."

"Then live, Spock. Let me help you live."

He pulled her hands away, but held them in his. "It seems that I have no other alternative," he said.

"You do, but you've already said you'd prefer to stay alive. This is the nature of your race, Spock, remember?"

"Quite well."

"Well, if this is the Vulcan way, isn't it... logical...for you to accept your time and everything that goes with it?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I had not fully considered the… logic of yielding to emotion in this particular instance. But you are correct." He touched her face now, gently rubbing her temples. "I would prefer if we...began while I still have enough control left to be certain that I do not hurt you."

She smiled at him. "Then let's begin now."

And before he could respond she pulled his mouth to hers in a kiss.

The force of his mind from their intensified mental contact almost sent Christine reeling. She fell back into the soft grass, with Spock on top of her. His mind reached for hers, and as he allowed himself to accept his burning need for her he moaned softly. The heat of his body was incredible. She could feel that his temperature was easily up three, perhaps four degrees. It was uncomfortable for her. But she could feel how her cooler temperature was soothing him, calming his fever. It was worth anything she felt to know that she was the source of helping him.

He kissed her eagerly, hungrily, like a man who had found an oasis in the desert. When they finally stopped, he raised up slightly to look into her eyes. She could feel through their mental link that he was immensely relieved about something. He smiled as he smoothed her hair away from her face. " I am still in control; I have not yet reached the point of blood fever. If we…join together now, I believe I will not have to endure it." His hand trailed down to caress her face. In a voice husky with desire he said: "I believe I can make this a pleasurable experience for both of us."

She swallowed hard at the sight of such blatant passion on his normally smooth features. It excited and terrified her at the same time. "Yes," she whispered as she stroked one curved ear. "Now."

He needed no further encouragement, but bent to claim her lips again as he slowly moved his body against hers. His thoughts touched hers again and she welcomed them. Their mutual desire ignited shivers in her and her body trembled as much as his did. The sensations seemed to go on forever.

After a while Spock lifted his mouth and body from hers. Sitting beside her on the grass, he slowly unfastened her uniform and pulled it over her head. He unclasped her bra, removing it with the same slowness. He moved down and unzipped her boots, taking those off her and putting them with her clothes. All she was left wearing was the blue panties that matched her uniform. He grasped the top of them with his fingers, and she raised herself up slightly so that he could tug them off. Naked now, she stretched back out on the grass, watching him look at her body.

Spock's eyes seemed to devour her as they ran over her lithe form. Her rounded breasts, her curved hips--she was beautiful. Her nipples seemed to beckon for his touch. He took the left one into his mouth, sucking on it gently. He was rewarded for his efforts when she gasped and tangled her fingers loosely in his hair. For the next hour she was carried into valley after valley of pleasure, as he touched, kissed and teased every crevice of her body. She felt like he was conducting an experiment with her as the willing test subject. Everything he did, no matter how small, set her flesh on fire. When his lips touched her secret center she thought that SHE would go into blood fever, so intense was her response. He continued to taste her, softly caressing her with his tongue until she thought she'd go insane.

When she couldn't take any more, she gasped: "Spock, stop!"

He stopped. "Am I hurting you?" he asked, concerned.

Christine almost laughed aloud. "No, Spock, that feels…incredible! But I'm close to the brink and need a break."

"What would you like me to do now, then?" he asked.

"Let me take your clothes off, for starters," she answered with a sultry smile.

He sat up, and she followed, pulling off his torn uniform and black thermal undershirt. She moved down and took off his boots, then gently pushed him onto his back as she peeled off his pants and black thermal boxers. When he was naked, she knelt in front of him and let her eyes travel over him. He was every bit as beautiful to her as she was to him. Soft black hair curling over his chest; long, well-muscled legs, strong arms. She lay down beside him and began planting kisses on his chest, teasing his nipples until they hardened beneath her lips. He arched into her body, making soft little moans of pleasure. She took him into her mouth, and he gasped sharply. She started to raise her head, worried that she'd caused him pain, but he gasped: "N

o! not stop."

She continued, and he alternately sighed and moaned until finally he gently pulled her mouth from him. "I believe that I have reached the state you were in earlier. I want to join with you now, mentally and physically." His eyes searched her face. "Are you ready?"

"Oh, yes," she answered softly as she caressed his face.

He turned her beneath him, long, slender fingers reaching for her contact points. As he brought their minds together, he gently entered her body, burying himself in the welcoming warmth. He rocked against her slowly, sensing that she enjoyed this through the link. Finally his own body demanded that he quicken the pace, and he sensed that he was ready. Her body moved in time with his as they became one being with one desire.

When he reached the brink and crossed it, he cried out against her mouth, his entire body shuddering from the intensity of it. She held him close, soothing him mentally until he quieted. He became still inside her, and she could feel that he was still completely hard. Her eyes searched his, wondering what his first words would be.

He sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry? For what?" She asked in fear and puzzlement.

"You did not…attain a climax."

She smiled at him, her face radiating her love for him. "Spock, human females don't always reach a climax during lovemaking, especially when they are…out of practice. It takes a little time to get in synch with your partner for that."

"I see." He kissed her nose playfully, then looked into her eyes. "In that case, I believe that we should continue so that our bodies may reach this goal of synchronicity."

"Far be it for me to argue," she murmured as his lips met hers in another kiss.

* * *

Five days later Christine was standing in the arboretum smelling some flowers that they had brought up from the planet. It would make an excellent colony world and had been named Hypna in honor of the ancient Greek god Hypnos, lord of sleep. It certainly was a sleeper planet; the tranquility and lush beauty could put almost anyone under a spell. Even Spock.

His fever had burned out three days after it started. He'd been his normal self afterward, except that he was somewhat warmer with her. For her part, Christine had acted like it never happened, brushing off his one attempt to talk to her about it. Since their return to the ship they had not spoken. She had made no attempt either to see him or avoid him. Things had just worked out that way.

The sound of the doors opening made her jump. "I'll just be a few minutes more…"

The sound of his voice stopped her. "Unnecessary, Christine." She turned to see him silhouetted in the faint light from the hall before the doors closed. He engaged the do not disturb sign on the door used for those who came to meditate there to have privacy and peace. He slowly walked to within a few feet of her, then stopped. "I came to see you, not to meditate."

"Oh." She forced herself to sound casual. Half turning from him to look at a rosebush she asked: "What did you want to see me about, Spock?"

He looked uncomfortable but resolved. Not a good combination, she thought uneasily. He paced for a moment in a circle before turning to her.

"The Enterprise will be making a systems check on Vulcan in 2.4 weeks. We will be there for an estimated 3.7 days. Not a great deal of time, but I believe we can have everything arranged."

"Arranged? For what?"

He continued as though she had not spoken. "We will, of course, have to obtain permission from T'Pau, but I do not believe she will refuse since this is a matter of honor. My mother can assist you with what you will need to know before the ceremony--"

"Spock, what the hell are you talking about? What ceremony?"

He studied her with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. "Our bonding ceremony, of course."

"Our WHAT?!"

"Our bonding ceremony," he repeated. "I know we will have many things to discuss in the next two weeks--"

"Hold it right there, Spock," Christine said firmly. "Are you telling me you're planning our WEDDING?"

"I intend to obtain your input as well, Christine. There is a margin of flexibility involved."

"But why? Why are you planning this at all?"

He looked down. "I took you during pon farr, Christine. Vulcan law dictates that an unbonded male who resolves his needs at that time must marry the woman he does this with. It is, as I said, a matter of honor."

"Making an honest woman out of me, Spock?" She couldn't resist asking.

He arched an eyebrow. "I believe that is the human phrase."

"Well, don't worry about your honor. I'm not going to marry you."

She would never have thought she'd see a look of amazement on his face, but that's what was written on his features. He stared at her for a few seconds, then politely asked: "I beg your pardon?"

"I said, I'm not going to marry you. We are not getting married."

"Indeed." He was clearly stunned. After another few seconds he said: "May I ask why you are refusing to marry me?"

She sighed heavily. "Spock, let's not pretend here. You are offering to marry me only out of obligation and duty. Not love, not even caring. I don't want that."

"You do not wish to marry me? Your actions prior to this are somewhat contradictory to that statement."

"No, Spock, you just didn't listen to me. I will not marry someone who only wants me out of honor or responsibility. When I marry, it will be because I'm wanted for myself."

"And what happened between us… it means nothing to you," he said flatly.

She blinked hard to keep back the tears. "No, Spock, it was beautiful and precious and I will always cherish it. But it wasn't real. It wasn't you."

"Then who was it?" His voice was harsh with something she couldn't identify.

"It was your Vulcan self in need. Needing me physically. Nothing else."


She shook her head fiercely. "I have to go." She hurried past him, stopping at the door. "Don't worry. It will be our secret. And… thank you, for being willing to marry me even though you don't love me."

Before he could say another word she was gone.

He slowly walked to the rosebush where she had been standing. He reached down and gently picked a red blossom. As he did a thorn imbedded itself in his finger. He made no effort to remove it, just watched as his green blood mingled with the crimson petals. Green and red, just like his dual heritage. He wondered if he would be able to tell her she was wrong, if she would even listen or believe. He only knew that he had to try.