[NVC Day 23] -- [Sometimes Words Speak Louder Than Silence] -- [Jim/Spock]
If Jim wanted to get some time to work out, it had to be late in the day after the sun had set and the cool air was starting to come with the sun's leaving or it had to be early in the morning before the rising sun started to heat up the air. So there he was, early come morning before he would head out for the trial. Things seemed to almost be getting towards a close, and Jim feared and hoped that within the next few days the trial would finally be done after so long. A month on a planet, after so long in space and on his beautiful lady, seemed forever no matter what had happened there. Even though it hadn't even been a month, Jim felt years older. There was a feeling deep inside of him that he would feel even older after the sentencing was passed, no matter what was chosen as the Romulan's fate.
He was dressed in a pair of loose shorts and a tank top, body moving gracefully over the sand as he moved through old-familiar patterns. Each movement was a block and a strike, attacks balanced behind defense and ready to turn into the other with a flex of the muscles. A twist of his knee turned his thigh in to protect his crotch then bent and up became a rapid kick to the chest of an imaginary opponent.
Who his opponent was that morning as he kicked and punched was another question, considering all that had been on his mind.
It was relaxing as much as it was a work out, because it was hard to concentrate on all the bullshit that had happened when he was concentrating on perfecting each movement, in putting all of his effort into each strike. It had gotten easier, all of it, to do with more time spent on Sha'Kwai. Jim had paused in front of the mirror that morning and wondered if he was imaging that he could see new definition in his chest, down along his ribs to his stomach, and even in his legs. It made sense, after a few seconds of thinking about it, since there were on a planet with higher gravity levels.
A skim of his foot kicked up sand as he jumped, landing neat before he kicked out again. Caught up in his routine, it was easy to miss the eyes watching his every movement.
He was dressed in a pair of loose shorts and a tank top, body moving gracefully over the sand as he moved through old-familiar patterns. Each movement was a block and a strike, attacks balanced behind defense and ready to turn into the other with a flex of the muscles. A twist of his knee turned his thigh in to protect his crotch then bent and up became a rapid kick to the chest of an imaginary opponent.
Who his opponent was that morning as he kicked and punched was another question, considering all that had been on his mind.
It was relaxing as much as it was a work out, because it was hard to concentrate on all the bullshit that had happened when he was concentrating on perfecting each movement, in putting all of his effort into each strike. It had gotten easier, all of it, to do with more time spent on Sha'Kwai. Jim had paused in front of the mirror that morning and wondered if he was imaging that he could see new definition in his chest, down along his ribs to his stomach, and even in his legs. It made sense, after a few seconds of thinking about it, since there were on a planet with higher gravity levels.
A skim of his foot kicked up sand as he jumped, landing neat before he kicked out again. Caught up in his routine, it was easy to miss the eyes watching his every movement.