Date: 2010-09-18 08:15 pm (UTC)
His head pulled back, a growling noise escaping him. But at Jim's words, a hazel eye cracked open and focused on the hand in front of him.

But it was still a moment before the fog lifted enough for him to realize what he was seeing. Bones reached for Jim's hand, then turned to look at him, a smile cracking his face at the familiar golden hair. Then he looked down at his own left hand - his own little tattoo was gone, but the band was back. "We're us again."
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James T. Kirk

January 2020

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