Her one pink rose from Glory was in a tall glass of water next to her bed. It was still decently fresh. Of course, it didn't look like the flowers Jim had in his hand. The rose looked coddled, hothouse grown. Jim's weren't as perfect, but they were wild. Not better, but certainly not worse. Different.
Uhura smiled. "I'm so glad to see you. Are those for me?"
in which Jim is apparently Willoughbygoldn_boyOctober 12 2011, 14:43:51 UTC
Jim looked down at the flowers in his hand, then back up at her. He needed desperately to cut the combination of elation and dread in his gut. "They're actually for the strapping young lad down the hall," he said as he set them in the pitcher for drinking water. "But since you asked so nicely..."
He stood beside her bed, eyes scanning her for evidence of her condition, not sure where to start with "glad you're alive, and by the way, my Spock's in town."
that means Glory is Colonel Brandon... XDtalentd_tongueOctober 13 2011, 03:04:52 UTC
It was a very good thing that Jim didn't decide to word it that way. Uhura probably wouldn't have been able to take the shock. The flowers, though? Those she could take. She grabbed hold of the handle of the pitcher so she could bring the to her face and sell them. They might have looked slightly underwhelming, but they smelled amazing. "Thank you."
She set the flowers down again. Even their slight weight was making her hand shake a little. Dying really took it out of a person. "So... elephant in the room..." She glanced to the machines and the sterile white sheets and the polka-dotted monstrosity she was wearing. "I died."
Jim didn't see the room, or the gown. All he saw--once he could bring himself to look--was her face. He sat next to her, leaning gently on the bed, his hand finding hers.
"Yeah," he said, and his expression faltered slightly at the memory of what that news had meant to him. "You're going to have to make that up to me, you know."
"Oh really? And what did you have in mind?" Most people had skirted the issue, tried to be gentle with her or pretend that it hadn't happened. "You know, some people might say that you should be the one trying to make me feel better, considering I'm the one who's stuck here due to my harrowing and painful experience." But this was nice, too. Very nice. Normal, even. She squeezed his hand.
Jim smiled, his eyes sad. "Don't do it again," he said. "Doesn't that make you feel better? I'm a mess without you." His tone was light, but there was a truth in it, too. He didn't want her to know how much.
Her one pink rose from Glory was in a tall glass of water next to her bed. It was still decently fresh. Of course, it didn't look like the flowers Jim had in his hand. The rose looked coddled, hothouse grown. Jim's weren't as perfect, but they were wild. Not better, but certainly not worse. Different.
Uhura smiled. "I'm so glad to see you. Are those for me?"
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He stood beside her bed, eyes scanning her for evidence of her condition, not sure where to start with "glad you're alive, and by the way, my Spock's in town."
Reply
She set the flowers down again. Even their slight weight was making her hand shake a little. Dying really took it out of a person. "So... elephant in the room..." She glanced to the machines and the sterile white sheets and the polka-dotted monstrosity she was wearing. "I died."
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"Yeah," he said, and his expression faltered slightly at the memory of what that news had meant to him. "You're going to have to make that up to me, you know."
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