[Rifts in the Boredom of Forced Sick Leave] -- [Open]

[kirktastic]

Things had gone... interestingly the night of the party. The small memory put a smile to Kirk's face, despite his complete boredom and annoyance at still being trapped in his room. He could leave, he could walk around, but there was nothing he could do. Damn CMO's orders.

Even if, you know, he was sleeping with said CMO.

There was still a lot to be done, and damn if he was just going to sit back while it happened. Which had led him to sitting on his bed, naked from the waist up, leaning over a padd as he tried to figure out the exact time not one but two people had evidently gone missing from his god damn ship.

And getting no where fast expect to a headache.

Comments

[kirktastic.livejournal.com]

To that, Kirk said nothing at all. He didn't look up, eyes narrowed as he stared at the bed. He didn't reach out, didn't speak another word. Allowing Jim to leave. His eyes closed slowly, tired and unknowing. He could feel a slow roll in his stomach, churning and hot, thinking about the pain he could remember from that long ago mixed with the deep green and orange and black of what happened on the Narada.

Due process. Starfleet would have Nero executed or thrown into jail. The latter.. what good would it do? He could escape again. There was so much that could happen.

Maybe I should talk with Pike about this.

[original-fine.livejournal.com]

Jim leaned against the bulkhead outside Kirk's door, taking deep breaths and gathering himself. He hadn't thought it would be so difficult. He'd faced so much worse, as a matter of course.

This was different. This was him, only now he doubted how true that was. What that connection meant. Jim had seen himself mirrored so many times. And as much as he believed in himself, none of those views had been flattering.

Had he lost that?