Subj: DARK FRONTIER, DS/TOS Crossover, Pt 15
Date: 5/5/01 6:45:52 PM Central Daylight Time
From: JM Lane

"Leonard, what's going on? Is something wrong?"

"Christine, thank God you called!" McCoy exclaimed. "Lani Davidson is dead. Cardiac arrest about two hours ago."

"Oh, lord…" she breathed. "Anything else?"

"Spock is recovering from shock. Very bad nightmare. He's resting comfortably now; I gave him a mild tranquilizer--but I can't tell you anything more about it until you get back."

She looked carefully at McCoy and heard the concern for Spock that the Doctor rarely admitted to in his voice. His eyes were haunted, but his face had been schooled into a professional mask.

"I wonder what prompted it?" she asked.

"I have no idea, Chris…but I think it had something to do with you; consequently, it would help Spock's recovery if you could come back and sit with him to assure him that you're all right. He seems convinced that you're in mortal danger and nothing Jim or I say changes his mind. He's got to hear it from you before he'll be satisfied."

"I'll be there as soon as I can, Leonard. Everything else all right?"

"Fine. See you as soon as you can get here. McCoy out."

"Right. Chapel out." Christine looked up at the touch of Barnabas' hand on her right shoulder. Quentin stood next to him.

"What is wrong, Christine?"

"The girl who was attacked died a couple of hours ago, and Mr. Spock has had some kind of intense psychic dream--a nightmare, really--where I'm in danger and he needs to see me for himself to make sure I'm all right."

Quentin frowned. "I thought you said you two were just friends."

"As far as I know," Christine confirmed.

"Doesn't sound like it. Seems more like he's either in love with you or getting there fast. I've studied Vulcans some, and they don't generally act this way about someone unless they…care deeply for them."

"Nice thought, Quentin, but I'm not holding my breath. It's been too many years and Spock's too stubbornly logical for me to allow myself to believe that he's suddenly--developed deep feelings for me."

"Do you want to go back to the Inn now? I was just about to order dinner from there," Quentin told her.

"My medical instinct tells me I'd better go home now. I'll take a raincheck on the dinner. Leonard--Dr. McCoy--doesn't usually call me unless it's serious and he needs my help."

Barnabas sighed and lowered his hand. "In that case, I had better take you home."

He helped her into her jacket and told Quentin he would return shortly; with that, the couple left for the Inn. Although Barnabas technically could have called for an aircab, the Inn was within walking distance of the apartment building, so he chose to walk Christine home instead since he wanted to be with her as long as possible.

Again, he had had to take a dose of blood earlier so he could be with her and still control his hunger. He kept an arm around her as they walked; Barnabas had discovered that when he was with Christine, he was able to forget his affliction, if only for a little while…and hoped against hope that he would not lose this woman in some nasty way as he had lost the others he had loved, particularly Josette and Roxanne.

One of them had tumbled off the Widows' Hill cliff not too far from Collinwood; the other had been left behind in 1970 Parallel Time when he and Julia had escaped through the secret room in the West Wing--then after their return from 1995 and learning of the destruction of Collinwood by the zombie minions of the evil ghost of Gerard Stiles from 1840, he had met another version of Roxanne in 1840, Real Time, whom he had inadvertently made into one such as he.

But his nemesis Angelique, a witch who had originally put him under the curse of vampirism because he had spurned her love, had returned and learned of his love for Roxanne (and vice versa), then re-opened the wounds on her neck, which had been healing, and she had bled enough to turn her into a vampire despite his most earnest pleadings.

Worst of all, he had found that she had survived through into 1970, Real Time--and had had control of the psychic Sebastian Shaw. Shaw had eventually rebelled against her and taken his new love, Maggie Evans, to Wyndcliff Hospital and Sanitarium in Bangor so that she could fully recover from the savage vam pire attacks (at least three), which had nearly cost her her life.

Unlike him, it seemed that Roxanne enjoyed being a vampire, enjoyed being a member of the living dead with a hunger for blood, enjoyed attacking her victims over and over, as she had attacked Maggie. It sickened him; she had always been a warm, loving, unselfish person when truly alive. Barnabas could only hope that someone had managed to destroy her between then and now, once and for all.

He could still recall when she had first risen; he had instructed Julia to put her to rest, but Angelique had intervened and made her fall asleep until after dark. When Julia had finally arrived at the crypt, she had discovered the coffin empty, then whirled upon feeling a malevolent presence nearby. Roxanne wore the lavender dress she had been buried in; her face had become feral and animalistic and she had come for Julia, arms out and her mouth open to reveal tigerlike fangs…

Because Angelique controlled Roxanne, he hadn't been able to find Julia after the attack until it was almost too late. And
now that the girl in the *Enterprise* party had died, it was only a matter of time until she, too, would rise as Roxanne had…and within three days, as he recalled. He wished could have avoided the whole horrifying incident, but all he could do now was advise Christine as to the best thing to do for their young friend in order to spare her the Hell he had been made to endure.

"I assume you know what will happen now that your Miss Davidson has died," Barnabas told her.

"I do," Christine confirmed. "I've read up on the subject."

"You must do it within three days or else she is doomed. What is more, it must be done before dark on the third day."

"I know," came the reply. "But it's not something I'm looking forward to."

"It's not a pleasant prospect, I know--but it must be done, in order for her to be at peace."

"I'll tell Dr. McCoy and we'll decide who's to do it and when, don't worry," she assured him.

"It should take only a short time; it's the actual deed which is distasteful," he finished.

Not long afterward the pair fell silent, not speaking during the final half-block or so. Barnabas again insisted on seeing Christine to her door, kissing her good night before turning to leave.

"Keep me informed."

"Will do," she promised.

"Good night, Christine. Sleep well, take care of yoruself-- and think of me."

"I will…and you take care, too. Also, please thank Quentin for his hospitality."

"I will. Good night."

With that, he was gone--again, a tad too soon and too strangely for her taste, but what mattered was that she was safely back at the Inn. Now she could find out what had happened with Spock and Lani.

After changing clothes and briefly explaining why she was back early to Marisa Holloway, Christine went to the suite, Kirk, Spock and McCoy shared with Dickerson to speak with them.

"Thank God you're back, Christine!" the latter exclaimed, giving his friend and assistant a bear hug.

Once Christine got her breath back, she asked McCoy to fill her in on what had happened in her absence. He smiled and agreed, but thought it would be better for Spock if they could do it in his presence so that he would be reassured of her safety. She followed the Doctor into the next room, where Spock was still lying on the couch, but he seemed more like himself now. Kirk sat next to him and they were speaking animatedly. Of course, Christine knew that that could be due as much to his friends' presence as to the tranquilizer.

She approached the other two men; Kirk smiled and nodded in her direction. "Glad to see you back, Miss Chapel. Has Bones told you what happened?"

"Just a little. We decided to come in here to discuss the details so Spock would be reassured of my safety."

Just then, the Vulcan got into the conversation. "I am…pleased to see that you have returned safely, Christine. Are you all right?"

She seated herself next to Kirk in the second chair and smiled reassuringly at him. "Yes, Spock, I'm fine. Thank you. Now what is this I hear about your having such a bad night mare that Dr. McCoy had to tranquilize you in order to calm you sufficiently?"

The First Officer winced and closed his eyes. "I…cannot discuss it again right now. Perhaps later this evening?"

"If that's what you want," she agreed with another warm smile. "I can take Jim for a late dinner then so that you two can talk privately, Chris," McCoy offered, answering her unspoken question.

"Thanks, Leonard. How about telling me about Lani in the morning, then we can decide what to do?"

"All right with me," the CMO concurred.

With that, the group decided to watch a favorite holovid, "Fantasia". There was one part showing the Devil and dead or evil things, so the Humans decided to fast-forward through that part in deference to Spock's still-fragile psychological state. Once the holo finished, the other two men stretched and prepared to leave after quick showers and a change into fresh clothes. The Captain and McCoy promised to bring back something for Spock and Christine; after taking their orders, they left, locking their doors behind them and leaving the latter pair alone.

"All right, Spock, we're alone. I'd like to hear about that nightmare now."

The Vulcan still seemed hesitant but agreed. "I only ask that you… join me on the couch. Sitting up, I mean," he explained. "It will be—- difficult to tell, so I…may need you to-—hold me at some point. That is, if you…do not object."

"Oh, no, Spock, of course not. I know how it must have seemed to you these last few days, but I *do* still care about you and will do all I can to help you."

The First Officer bowed his head, feeling color come into his cheeks. "Thank you, Christine. I—-very much appreciate your thoughtfulness."

She merely smiled again as she sat down next to him on the couch. "All right, Spock, I'm listening."

The Vulcan then swallowed hard and began.

* * * * * * * * * *

When he finished, Christine was almost as much in shock as Spock had been. "Oh, dear God…" she breathed softly, tightening her arms around the Vulcan. He was trembling again and holding her tightly as his head rested on her shoulder, but not as much or as tightly as he had hung onto Kirk. "No wonder it was so traumatic for you. But you must know that it was just a dream. That doesn`t mean it will ever happen."

Spock lifted his head to face her. "I am a Vulcan, Christine. My people are telepaths. We rarely dream as Humans do, and when we do, they tend to be psychic dreams and therefore are likely to come true most of, if not all, the time. That is one reason I have been so concerned for your safety since you have been seeing Barnabas Collins. I do not generally put much stock in legends such as those in the Collins family, but after what happened to Ms. Davidson and this dream…"

His voice trailed off. "Please do not see him again, Christine--at least not alone. I am convinced that you will be…in mortal danger if you do."

"Spock, your concern for me is appreciated, but Barnabas has never harmed me. I don't think he could, any more than you could. You are both gentle, kind and decent men."

The Science Officer again bowed his head, his cheeks coloring again. "Thank you again, Christine…but I hope you also know that I would never tell you a falsehood for my own gain. I would not even mention this dream if I did not believe there was ample cause for concern."

"Spock, with all due respect, I am very fond of Barnabas and intend to continue seeing him as long as we're here. You've given little or no indication up to this point of what you feel for me, if anything, so I'm acting accordingly. I can't wait forever for you to make up your mind, nor can I help noting that your…feelings only seemed to show up around the time I started seeing Barnabas. Are you going to deny that?"

"Yes, I am," he declared, keeping one arm around her while the hand of the free one lifted her chin to face him. "And this is why."

A moment later, warm and tenderly passionate lips claimed hers in a kiss which lingered so long that both participants were breathless after releasing each other, having to come up for air after about a minute or so. "*Now* do you believe me?"