now i am craving heartbreak [open]

[goldn_boy]

WHO Jim Kirk and OPEN
WHAT Jim is reasserting himself in all the wrong ways
WHERE CGM, the station, a police action, bars, or anyplace you can think of
WHEN After the breakup with Raylan Monday afternoon, and let's say any night this week
NOTES Find Jim anywhere and feel free to find his behavior strange. If you have questions about things you want

Comments

CGM Kitchen, whatever evening works best for you

[lt_cmmdr_scott]

There was a dragon running through the mansion's corridors. Not loose; he was still leashed, though it was a longer leash than he was used to. And he was chasing a tennis ball, with Scott at the other end of the leash following along behind him. For the first time in a while, Scott looked content. Relaxed. He even smiled once or twice as he watched Laphroaig, and eventually the two of them made their way into the kitchen.

[lt_cmmdr_scott]

"It's fine." Better than he could do, anyway, and edible, which was always his main concern. "No' bad, really." It should have bothered him, that he was standing there, this close to Jim, eating something that Jim had prepared. And it did, a little, in the back of his mind, but not enough to combat the city's influence.

[goldn_boy]

The trust implied was not lost on him, even if it seemed unnecessary. Jim had made the pancakes, true, but he was also eating them himself and he saw no way he could have ensure something was wrong with Scott's alone.

"Well, good," he said. "I mean, thanks. Maybe one day I'll try something hard. A casserole, maybe." He mopped up some syrup with the last of one pancake, and cast about for something he could say to divine what was going on with Scott without spooking him. "You catch any flack for that list?"

[lt_cmmdr_scott]

Jim might be surprised then - or maybe not, who knew - to learn that although he had no preference for the method himself, Scott knew several ways to slip poison into someone's food that came from a common source. All it took, really, was a bit of misdirection, some sleight of hand, and the ability to conceal something in one's sleeve.

At Jim's question, he just shrugged. "No' really. Got a bit o' eyebrowin' from Spock an' T'Pol about Pointy-ears." He paused a moment, before correcting himself. "Doctor Saval."

[goldn_boy]

No, it wouldn't surprise him--but he'd been pretty sure Scott had been watching him closely.

He actually snorted in amusement at that. "Well, that's to be expected," he said. "You know, they all have them. The ears. It's not exactly... descriptive, as a nickname."

[lt_cmmdr_scott]

"Didn't know his name though, did I?" Scott asked, a little surprised that Jim had actually laughed. Especially considering the way Spock and T'Pol had reacted. A few more bites of pancake, and he added, "I don't think he likes me. Can't imagine why."

[goldn_boy]

Jim sometimes laughed when he wasn't supposed to. It was too close to the way McCoy had always teased Spock. "Yeah, that's a mystery," he said drily. "But maybe asking for names before resorting to racial epithets might work better. Just a thought."

[lt_cmmdr_scott]

"Didn't seem like he was exactly interested in learnin' my name either," Scott replied, just as drily. Not that was really a valid excuse, because they'd learned each other's names thanks to his list, and Scott was still calling Saval 'Pointy-ears'.

[goldn_boy]

"Then I guess you're at an impasse," Jim said mildly, shrugging. "Besides, Vulcans are cagey people. If he really disliked you, he'd probably hide it better."

[lt_cmmdr_scott]

"Seemed t'think I was out t'get him just because I'm from the Empire." Which, admittedly, was a perfectly logical conclusion, but Scott wanted to hear what Jim had to say on the matter.

[goldn_boy]

"Well," Jim said slowly, attempting some form of diplomacy, "I think if I heard someone was from a place where my people were second-class citizens or worse, I'd be a little wary, too."

Just as Jim had an opportunity to show Scott what the Federation meant, it was possible, he thought, for Scott to show others that the Empire was made up of people, not ideologies.

[lt_cmmdr_scott]

"Spock didn't seem t'care," he pointed out. Then again, he'd been a bit more cautious around Spock then around Saval. A bit less his usual abrasive self, because he'd always been cautious of the Spock in his universe.

[goldn_boy]

"Well... people are different," Jim hazarded. "Spock's always been pretty tight-lipped about things--and he's probably used to it from his McCoy. He's spent more time among Humans than most Vulcans."

[lt_cmmdr_scott]

Scott let out a soft little sound that was less a laugh and more simply an exhalation, returning his attention to his plate. "It was shit, y'know, that list," he said suddenly, picking at the remaining pancake with his fork, changing the subject with little to no segue in between as he often did. "Kid I work with got shot because of it."

[goldn_boy]

"I know," Jim said, soberly. "I mean, I agree about the list." Which was interesting, considering what Jim knew of the Empire's attitude towards non-humans. Scott didn't seem the political type, however. He was driven by loyalties, not ideologies.

"Is your friend all right? Did he report it to the police? I can check up on the status."

[lt_cmmdr_scott]

Inwardly, Scott cursed himself for bringing that particular topic up. Jim was with the police, wasn't he? Damn. Outwardly, he just shrugged, and lied easily, "Don't know if he put in a report. Doesn't really matter. Heard they died, the blokes that shot him." Another shrug, and he added, "Kid's fine. Bein' an idiot about sittin' still, but he's fine."