James T. Kirk

Jim was both looking forward to it and nervous about it. They had agreed to meet the healer at a smaller hotel somewhere away from both the medical centers as well as the Federation guest quarters. It felt almost like trying to buy some back alley off-world drugs or deliver information of a disclosed nature, to the point Jim almost wanted to call it off. His hands were shoved into his pockets as he walked along side of Bones, who seemed almost as tense as he was.

Neither of them knew how this was going to go, or what the healer would even do finding out that it was three humans bonded to one Vulcan. Jim almost wanted to avoid using Spock's name, but had a feeling that would only make things about a million times worse. What made it all that much worse, at least to Jim, was he had no idea what was going to happen. He hated that helpless feeling.

He had the room number memorized - a nice larger room that they could talk and get every, or as many as possible, answer they needed so they could chose. So they could figure out the reality of the situation they were in. Jim thought about the moment in the court room, the ghostly feeling of Spock's hand on his. He hadn't even consciously known that Spock was 'listening in' on him, or just able to feel his emotions so keenly. It was disturbing as much as it had been helpful. Spock, even though they weren't talking and hadn't since he had left the house two weeks ago, had reached out to comfort him.

Honestly, he didn't know how to feel about that still. He didn't even know how Spock felt about what had happened during pon farr. Jim had acted so.. horrified about what Spock had done, but those images that still flickered about in his head, what Prime had confirmed.... Jim's Spock, Prime... they had killed Jim. In cold blood, they had killed him on the hot sands of Vulcan. Immediately after, they had been stricken, guilty, angry at themselves... was that any different than what Spock had done? Was killing any better than what had happened?

Jim sighed, glancing over to Bones. He could see a tightness in Bones' mouth, his knuckles white clenched against each other. It was about how he felt, too.

They went up to the hotel room and knocked, and Jim wasn't surprised to find out the healer had gotten there first.

    After meeting with the others, the only person left to talk with about his idea was Spock. Honestly, a part of him was more worried about his ideas on this more then any of the others simply because he understood Spock the least. His dealings about command and captaincy would take some work with Jim, but something told him that he could definitely trust Jim's judgment on things - after all, the man had run this very similar but more experienced crew for years. It would, in essence, be making something that was almost first officer but not. How would Spock take to that? Should Spock, his this universe's Spock, be superior to Jim in the chain of command? Equal? Lesser?

( The sort of stuff they needed to talk about, for sure. )

Slowly Kirk dragged his exhausted body back towards the room he was temporarily sharing with Bones'. He didn't even realize it at first that he was - the three were no longer having an orgy in the room next to his, so his own was free again - but it felt right. He wanted his friend out of sickbay, dammit. He wanted... he wanted...

He knew what he wanted. He wanted to find warmth again, curled up against the scent of whiskey and earth and medicine. That simple and easy moment they had had before, something that had been, just for a second, perfect.

( This got so very long... )