James T. Kirk

After he had... spoken with, needed with, something with the elder Spock, brought him back to the city and got him settled, Kirk found himself feeling lost. At ends. Bones wasn't in their quarters, so he got rid of the clothing he had put back on after being in the house in the wilderness straight into the trash. He didn't want to bother with seeing it ever again and the memories it held.

He sat down nude in front of a console, discretely tucked away as if the Vulcans had decided to hide technology in their guest quarters. The ones he had with Bones were beautiful, with a private deck that spread out towards the ocean. It smelled like the ocean. He didn't care, right now.

He checked his messages, his lips twisting. Just a single new message from Jim, a reply to his own. Kirk's fingers hesitated, then he finally started typing.

Jim,

...If its the only thing I know right now, congratulations aren't in order.

JTK

He sent the message, then walked to the closet in the room. Some of their clothing was hanging in it, gold against blue, but Jim pushed that aside. He had seen them when he first came to the guest quarters. The long, beautiful robes that Jim had no idea what they were for, but he didn't care.

He pulled them from the closet and slid them around his body. The material was smooth, rich, and light. It was a deep blue with swirls of black, and folded across his chest. It took a few minutes to figure out the catches that laced it close. He shifted, almost smiling, before he walked barefoot out of his room through the private deck, and down towards the scrap of beach. It was beautiful, it reminded him of Risa.

...except he was alone.


(OOC: Since the SPrime thread hasn't ended, the beginning of this post may change in the future but it'll work for now!)

Kirk cracked his neck, staring at the bag in front of him. He had a dinner with Bill tonight, and a lot of time between waking and then to waste how he saw fit. He hated sick leave, and with Bones' permission to be off it only a day away, he felt even more restless then normal. So now he was down in the gym, a tee shirt on his body and loose shorts, hands and feet wrapped in tape to keep the skin from getting damaged.

It felt natural to slide into the familiar fighting stance. Front foot pointing at the bag, back foot tilted slightly to the side, knees bent, one fist up and loose and the second about his stomach and loose as well. The muscles knew this pose, fell into it with ease, and seemed to relax all at once. It was something he could do even when blasted drunk, already injured, or half-asleep. And had before.

The first punch was something easy, a quick strike that barely rocked the bag. He was already warmed up, body loosened up from stretches and a run around the gym. Speed. That is what determines the winner, but if you have no bite behind your bark, your opponent may get a strike in slower but with greater strength. It was an older voice in his head, a man he hadn't thought of in years. It had been the first place he had found some semblance of a place to live after Tarsus IV.

He started to talk, immensely grateful that he could get the back most of the gym's smaller rooms. The mat felt new and springy under his feet as he let loose with punch after punch to the bag. Who gave a shit if his log had grunts and the sound of skin against the punching bag?

"So, fuck everything. Let's start off with that," Kirk growled, feet slipping to the side as if he was going against a real opponent. "Still fighting with Jim, and I hate it. Feels like fighting with myself or something. Maybe I am and Jim is just really my conscience," PUNCH, twist, round kick, "That's what he feels like. There's so much going on that I feel like I'm out of the loop. I need to talk to Spock about ship stuff and what happened after the Halloween Party. I don't think it'll be awkward crew wise," KICK, "But..." He hesitated.

"I wish I knew what I felt about that." Kirk shook his head, "Not like me to feel something about sex except when it was with Bones, and even then not all the time. Fuck, that makes me sound like an asshole. I don't want it to mean something. ...Guess it meant something with Jim, too. Feels like he's judging me based on this. What does he know? He's been through a lot of stuff, can't not admit that, but not on this scale. He's apart from it, you know? When he goes home," Why did that make his stomach clench? "When he finally goes back, Vulcan'll be there. Spock'll still have his sky, and the Federation will still be scarred here."

Kirk sucked on his front teeth for a second, then moved lighting fast. His entire body jerked to the side and his knee came up, foot snapping out and striking the bag with the bottom arch of his foot. The entire bag rocked, threatening to fall over, then steadied, "Can't wait to get back on duty. I hate feeling useless and I do right now. I'm really sick of looks of pity when I walk through the hall. I need to get these tattoos off but..."

He stopped, looking down at his left hand. The tape covered Vulcan. "...Maybe... not all of them. Think I'm going to keep some of them, and I have a feeling Bones is going to bitch at me for it." He brushed his other thumb over the tape, then shook it off and went to work against the bag at twice the speed. Point was to exhaust himself. "So many new people on this ship that it's actually getting hard to find space for them all. ...Bones' mom is one of them. New ship psych? At least as close as we've got beside Bones himself."

"Speaking of, I got the final bit of Bones' Christmas gift in. Got it hidden away... plan to surprise the hell out of him. Least I'm pretty sure he'll like it. Can't believe all the holidays, the new year... just a month or so away," Kirk snorted and struck out again, "Is it bad that I fucking hate that we'll be celebrating when Jake and Rachael and Kat won't be? They were supposed to be here, on the 'prise... got transferred at the last second to the Farragut and the Odyssey. Now... they're all dead. Probably should of thought of this on Halloween."

Kirk stepped back from the back, panting. He rubbed a bit of sweat from his eyes, "Nero's still out there, in that black hunking ship of his. Part of it is on the 'prise and I want it off and Spock back here. Wanna get done with those two bastards and have everyone free of them. Me, this crew, the Federation, and all the universes they've seemed to completely fuck up." He growled a little, hitting the bag half heartedly.

"Wish it was his face under my fist."

His next strike sent the bag toppling over.

When the morning came, it was all too soon. Kirk woke in the darkness all at once, laying there for several minutes. He stared at the ceiling in the darkness, listening to the hum of the ship, the silence that came from the darkest hours before a dawn that would never come. It was freezing in the room, just like he liked it, yet he still felt impossibly hot. Bones was, thankfully, curled off on the other side of the bed, back to Kirk. It allowed him to sit up and swing his legs over the side of the bed, burying his head into his hands. Fuck, it had been a while since he had dreamed of that. His stomach was pitching, clenching.

Just because of this fucking meeting. Stressed out, that's all. Kirk shook his head, standing up and tucking the sheets back in. He glanced to Bones, still curled up asleep, and smiled just slightly. Least one thing didn't go wrong.

( Until he looked at the chronometer. Fuck. )