Title: The Doll

Author: Farfalla the Butterfly-Kitten

Website: http://cosmicduckling.com/christine-chapel.html for more Chapel stuff!

Email: blueberrysnail@yahoo.com

Beta: The most generous Djinn

Rating: R

Pairing: Chapel/f (Andrea from "What Are Little Girls Made Of?"). S/Ch-ish and K/S-ish stuff implied.

Written for the Christine Chapel Fanfiction Fest at http://cosmicduckling.com/sweetheart . Archived there, ASCEM, and anywhere else that asks permission.


THE DOLL
by Farfalla the Butterfly-Kitten

"*Studies performed at the University of British Columbia in Vancouver, Canada, and the University of Florida in the American States, have yielded positive results when the new drug was tested concurrently with--*"

The door buzzer sounded. Christine Chapel was absorbed in her medical journal and was just the right combination of cranky and tired to want to pretend she wasn't there, but by the third buzz she realized she was being a baby. She turned off her computer monitor and walked towards the door, calling "Come in."

The door slid open, revealing the ramrod posture of Commander Spock. It was a testament to Chris's frustration with the stress of her busy week that it took her a full second and a half to smile and say hello.

"Good evening, Nurse. May I come in?"

"Of course, Mr. Spock." Christine stepped back to allow him to walk a few feet into the room. He turned before entering, and finally walked in wheeling a dolly that had been hiding behind the wall when the door first opened.

Christine stared at the enormous package perched on the tray of the dolly. "What's that?" It was over five feet long and wrapped so thickly in bubble-wrap that the contents could have been anything from a small grandfather clock to a contrabassoon.

"You are aware that the estate of your late fiance Roger Korby has finally passed through litigation," Spock said.

Christine nodded. "I--I said that the University could have all of his research materials. Is there some kind of problem?"

"The University has been given full powers over his cybernetic projects," Spock affirmed, "but you still remain custodian of his personal effects."

"I don't want any reminders of him in my life," Christine said flatly. "Donate his clothes to charity, and anything else auctioned off for the university. I
thought I told that to the lawyers."

"There is one possession of his that would be impossible to be auctioned." Spock turned his head slightly, indicating the mysterious object. "I believe
it will have to remain yours, despite the inconvenience."

"What is it?" she asked, a grimace forming on her face. It wasn't that she intended to be rude to Spock, but she still felt ashamed of the way she'd behaved towards him before she knew it wasn't just Vulcan manners keeping him from appreciating her romantically. Her shame made her feel uncomfortable, and so in moments of weary weakness, it expressed itself as curtness towards the man. He probably didn't notice, anyway, being--so Vulcan, and all.

Spock unwrapped the bubble-wrap without ceremony, revealing the still form of a beautiful woman with pale skin and glossy reddish-brown hair.

"Andrea!" Chapel exclaimed. "I don't understand." She looked at the android, then back to Spock. "I thought she destroyed herself."

"There was a second Andrea body receiving signals from the original," Spock explained. "She was a backup, to be used if the first became damaged during the course of wear."

"Wear," Chapel sneered in a snarky echo.

Spock ignored her bad humor. "She would have been auctioned off with the rest of his possessions, except that she is convinced that she belongs to you and will only serve you."

Christine looked at him blankly. "To me ? Roger's backup geisha?"

"She was created to please him, and, if I understand correctly, reprogrammed to please you as well."

Memories replayed in Christine's mind. "I do remember the original Andrea saying that."

"I'm afraid she is your burden, Miss Chapel." Spock looked at Andrea, then touched her shoulder lightly. "Andrea, wake up."

Andrea's eyes flew open. "Christine! I'm happy they have finally returned me to you."

"Hello, Andrea," said Chapel uneasily.

"They can't give me to anyone else. I am programmed for you." Andrea kicked off the rest of the bubblewrap and stepped off the dolly. "Thank you, Mr. Spock."

Spock nodded slightly to her. "If you'll excuse me, Nurse, I must return to the captain."

"Yes, I understand," said Chapel, trying not to weave prurient thoughts into his words. Not that it mattered. She watched him leave, then shut the door.

"Do you require anything, Christine?" Andrea asked, an expression of exuberant helpfulness across her perfectly-formed face.

*Of course she looks perfect, she's an android,* Christine thought. Out loud, she merely sighed and looked at the carpet. "I suppose I could use a glass of iced tea."

"Certainly, Christine," Andrea smiled. "Sweetened or unsweetened?"

"Unsweet, please," said Christine. "With a little milk."

She walked back to her desk and opened up the medical journal again. It was harder to read with the added tension of a virtual stranger hovering around her. She'd barely gotten through a paragraph by the time the tea was placed ever-so-gracefully in her hand. "Thank you," she said, wondering if one really needed to say thank you to something that wasn't alive. After all, if the Enterprise crew thanked the ship's computer for every calculation made, they'd never have time to do anything else...

"It is my pleasure, Christine." Andrea remained standing behind her with her hands at her sides. "May I provide you with anything else?"

"Not right now, no," Christine answered. "I think I'd just like to finish this article before I go to bed. I've had a long day."

"Very good." Andrea answered like a perfect English butler, and then wandered away to begin dusting shelves.

Christine continued reading her article, but in the back of her mind, she noted with interest that Andrea had the ability to take initiative and create her own tasks, instead of merely following instructions. Maybe she wasn't as much like the Enterprise computer as Christine had thought.

More than a little pleased that someone *else* was cleaning up her cabin, without being asked, Christine found the energy to finish not only the article she was reading, but the next two as well. Finally, her glass of tea drained, and her energy as well, she stood up and stretched, yawning.

"Would you like for me to bring your nightclothes?" Andrea asked.

"Yes, that would be very nice of you," answered Christine, walking into the bathroom to take off her eye makeup. In a little more than an hour, Andrea had managed to pamper her more than she'd ever been pampered in her life. Christine came from a colony world, and life was rough there. She'd gotten used to it. But this was an unexpected treat.

By the time Christine crawled into bed in her pastel green satin nightie and light gray flannel gown, fetched by Andrea, she felt more relaxed than she
could ever remember feeling. "Thank you, Andrea," she told the android as her body melted into the bedclothes. "You can shut off now."

"It is my pleasure to serve," Andrea reminded her, "and I do not need sleep."

"Of course not," said Christine. "But don't you need to save energy?"

"I work on an efficient light-generated system that can conserve power for days of darkness," said Andrea.

"You're a plant!" Christine realized with astonishment. "You're an artificial plant."

"That is one way of looking at it," Andrea agreed demurely.

"Tell me, Andrea--" Christine stopped. She wasn't sure how to phrase her question. "Do you--can you feel? I mean, when you say it's your pleasure to serve, do you actually know what you mean by 'my pleasure'?"

"Computers are programmed to experience what might be compared to electronic 'satisfaction' at the solution to a problem or the completion of a task," Andrea explained. "I do not know if it is what you experience as happiness."

"You kissed Captain Kirk," Christine commented. "What did you feel when you did that?"

"I experienced a programmed internal satisfaction because I was completing Dr. Korby's request."

"Not because you were doing something to the captain that he might enjoy?"

"He was not the one who told me to issue the kiss."

"I understand." Christine thought for a little bit. This was very interesting--a completely unselfish individual! How incredible. And how disgusting that
Roger had created this--this--cheerful slave. It was a good thing she was Christine's now, because she could think of a lot of people who would abuse her functions. Not that it would harm Andrea, but having a literal slave couldn't be good for the human psyche.

"You have independent thought," she said out loud.

"That is correct."

Christine kept thinking.

Andrea interrupted her reverie. "Would you like me to come to bed? I will dim the lights first."

Christine blinked, rattled. Of course. Roger--Andrea hadn't known anything else. She was too tired to be painfully disgusted by his actions, as she usually was. "Did Roger take you to bed every night?" She didn't know why she'd asked.

"Yes," answered Andrea. "Sometimes he would ask me to perform sexually, and sometimes he would merely sleep beside me."

"Has he ever made love to the body you're in now? The backup?"

"No. This body was never used."

For some reason, that made Christine feel better. She had a clean copy, fresh out of the packaging.

"Andrea..."

"Yes?"

Christine was thinking again. She usually pleasured herself before sleep each night, to lull her mind and body into a dreamy stupor that provoked sleep. It was a habit since girlhood, and her body had grown used to it--even expected it. With Andrea here, she'd felt self-conscious about touching herself as usual. But if Andrea was used to this, and was even programmed for it... Besides, she was only a machine. It was only a machine, and not even female. It was an android, with amusing, "personal use" functions, as they called it.

It was really like having a new vibrator, she realized. She'd never liked vibrators as much as her own fingers--they weren't gentle enough, and then if
you fell asleep right after, you have a big chunk of plastic in bed with you. But Andrea was warm and soft and lifelike.

"You can turn out the lights, and come into bed." She didn't say anything else. She figured she'd handle whatever was next after Andrea was under the sheets and the room was dark.

"Lights to five percent." Andrea spoke clearly, and then became a silhouette.

Christine smelled roses as Andrea climbed into bed, pulling the covers over her body. "You smell nice," she commented.

"Thank you," said Andrea, her perfect auburn hair spilling over the side of the bed.

"I'm sorry there isn't much room. It's only a single bed."

"We are small women. There is room if we are close."

"Mm-hmm." Christine wasn't sure how to ask Andrea for what she wanted. She was certain she'd feel silly if she said it out loud. She was already massaging her own breasts, a familiar, comfortable territory.

Andrea snuggled closer and seemed aware of what Chris was doing. "Does that bring you pleasure?"

"Yes," answered Christine, a little startled. It seemed obvious to her. Then again, Andrea wasn't a real woman, and she didn't know how complete Andrea's education was. There had only been Roger down there, no women...

"I can help you," Andrea offered.

After a long pause, Christine said simply, "Be gentle. They're tender." Her walls were slipping away in the dim, calm cabin.

Andrea's hand moved across their bodies to Christine's chest. She let it delicately rest across one breast, lighter than a human's touch, definitely lighter than most men's.

Christine sighed happily and closed her eyes. She felt very, very lucky. Someone else was doing this to her. That had never happened before. She had always been responsible for her own pleasure, even with Roger. He was older and more experienced than all the men she had dated as a young woman, so he really should have behaved better, but...

The hand Andrea was using was the one farthest away from Christine. The nurse groped around on the bed for her other hand, the near hand. When she found it she scooped Andrea's fingers into her own and held her hand. Every bit as lifelike as she had boasted...

The room filled with a peaceful silence as Christine's body responded to the doll's caresses. Her legs opened in a relaxed V, her blood flowing healthily. Instinctively she moved her hand, the one that wasn't holding Andrea's, down to her panties. But then she remembered.

She moved her hand back up and gently took hold of Andrea's, the one that now held her bosom. Without saying a word, she moved Andrea's hand downwards and slid it into her own underwear.

She had to show Andrea what to do, because Andrea had only gone to bed with Roger and Dr. Brown, and as an android with no method of pleasuring herself physically, she had no reason to explore her own body. Andrea's computer brain learned quickly, and before long her warm little fingers moved rapidly but veeeery gently at the sensitive place just inside the folds of Christine's skin. Gently. Gentle and warm. Warm and soft. Soft and fragrant. Locks of her hair floated around Chris's nose, and everything smelled like roses.

Christine's pleasure built and she rocked her hips into Andrea's hand. Small cries began to escape her lips. Finally, she climaxed, and placed her own hand on top of Andrea's to stop the pulses of her fingers and show her how to coax out each ecstatic contraction.

The hand that had been holding Andrea's was squeezing very hard with the force of Christine's orgasm. She now relaxed her grip.

"You are strong for a human woman," Andrea observed.

"Thank you." Christine gathered her senses. "That was very--good." She wasn't quite sure how to handle this.

"It was my pleasure," Andrea answered, and the room fell silent.

As she drifted into sleep, Christine realized that her life plans were realigning again. She'd been off course, unmoored in space, after losing her future
with Roger. Marooned in space as an overqualified nurse and no way of improving her credentials, she'd done her best to work hard and sacrifice herself for the health of her crewmates. But now--she had someone to watch after her, to make sure her shelves were dusted and her tea glass filled, and to take care of her at night. It wasn't love. It wasn't even close. But with someone else there to sweep away the dusty, mundane duties from her life, she was suddenly free to think once again about--

To: jtkirk @ 1701.starfleet.gov
From: cchapel @ 1701.starfleet.gov
Re: Plans

Captain,

I was wondering if I could speak with you privately tomorrow at some point. Years ago, I planned to go to medical school and become a doctor. My life has changed directions several times since then, but I'm back on track now and have investigated the possibility of becoming a Starfleet doctor. They would like a recommendation from you. I consider it an honor and a privilege to serve in the Enterprise Sickbay. Thank you for your time, and I look forward to our meeting.

Yours fondly,

Christine Chapel
Head Nurse



END