boldygoing | Big Reveals [for losthunter]

With his natural sensitivities, Hunter has easily detected Jim's foul mood the past few days. Unfortunately, he had not realized the amount of deaths either. Sure he had seen the crash site himself -- but it has been so surreal, he had almost neglected to think about all the lives impacted by the situation.

And so he feels very helpless. Worse off, while unintended, he feels that he was part of the cover-up that had made Jim so pissed off. It is not an easy feeling seeing someone you care about mad. And knowing you played a small part in it.

He is sort of glad to get the invitation by Jim to his new Earth-bound home away from the ship. And he is not one to come without bearing gifts. He is carrying a small crate as he approaches the house. Then balances it on his hip, as he knocks on the door, signalling that he was here.

The Kirk homestead is out in the middle of pretty much nowhere, surrounded by overgrown fields that might've once nurtured various crops, long ago. This far away from the heart of civilization, it could almost pass for twenty-first century Iowa, if not for the dark, massive shapes far off in the distance, rising up through the haze on the horizon. There are even still paved roads, although they're not made out of asphalt, and the one leading up to Jim's childhood home is unpaved dirt, almost untouched by tire treads.

The house itself is of a fairly old design, dating back to the nineteenth century, although some of it has clearly been upgraded since, updated to fit modern technology such as a palm scanner at the doorway and contemporary lighting, among other things. There are no cars parked in the driveway, nor anything that looks like a twenty-third century equivalent, but there is a roughly motorcycle-shaped lump hiding under a canvas tarp, just off to the side of the house.

The whole place still seems quite neglected, the ground overgrown with tangled weeds, like nobody's lived here for a while. The door swings open at Hunter's knock, revealing Jim, wearing a soft gray hoodie that declares him to be PROPERTY OF STARFLEET ACADEMY. "Hey, handsome." He may not be in the best of moods, but he's not mad at Hunter, and refuses to take it out on him.

Edited 2017-05-29 18:01 (UTC)

Hunter could almost swear that he is back in his own dimension. But there are those little signs -- the dark, massive shapes in the distance. The upgrades to the house. The palm scanner. All those things remind him of where he is.

He was awfully tempted to peak under the motorcycle-shaped lump under the canvas.

A soft laugh comes from Hunter at spotting that soft gray hoodie. "And here I thought you were no one's property." He manages an one-armed hug of greeting, still balancing that crate with the other arm.

Jim embraces him back, and while he's curious about the crate, he doesn't ask yet, just smiling faintly. "Everywhere except on file. Once you enlist with Starfleet, they kinda own your ass." He steps back and gestures for Hunter to follow. "C'mon in."

The interior of the house is also a mishmash of old and new, familiar features like a full country kitchen contrasted with the more modern food synthesizer set into the wall. Jim has zapped away all the dust that once covered the furniture, but there's still a sort of abandoned smell to the house, missing the scent of people. There are quite a few things missing that Hunter might expect from a twenty-first century house, as well - no television, for a start, and the kitchen is lacking all sorts of familiar appliances like a toaster or microwave - while there are other twenty-third century machines that he won't recognize, either.

It seems that Hunter is the first to arrive, as there are no signs of Jim's crew waiting inside the house as of yet.

Edited 2017-05-29 18:52 (UTC)

"But I still can put a claim on that gorgeous ass, right?" Hunter teases lightly.

He glances around curiously. He finds a piece of furniture where he can put down his crate. And there is an odd look on his face, as he tries to figure out the twenty-third century machines that are unfamiliar.

The food synthesizer gets his interest in particular. Hunter feels comfortable poking at things, like he has never seen them before, since the crew is not here yet. "I brought you a gift..." He nods at the crate.

"Nah, but you can rent it part time," Jim counters, still smiling slightly.

He looks at the crate with interest, and approaches to look inside. "Kind of a 'congrats for getting out of the hospital' gift?"

"More of a... 'was going to give it to you anyway, but thank God you are out of the hospital gift'." Hunter chuckles lightly.

At first glance, it looks like it is a stack of lumber. But as Hunter pulls it out of the crate, and connects some joiners, it is quickly transformed into a bookcase. And yes, there are a few books stored underneath.

Jim doesn't understand right away why Hunter is giving him a bunch of boards, but once the object begins to take shape, a surprised look crosses his face. "You got me a bookcase?"

"I designed it so it is portable." It is a little bit more than he went out and bought a bookcase. Hunter crafted it. "I thought that you might enjoy having your books on display, instead of in a crate."

It takes him a moment before he gets the importance of the word 'designed' in all that, and he's even more impressed because of it. It even has brackets for being bolted down on a starship. "With room for more, I assume."

"Of course. It would be nothing at all to make it bigger." Well, nothing for someone like him, who has the skills.

"I don't know what to say." But at least unlike last time, he's articulate enough to say so, and he gives Hunter a thankful smile. "Thank you."

And of course, it's not just the bookcase in the crate. He leans over to explore what books are included in the gift, wincing very slightly as the motion pulls at his back.

Inside are a dozen books, each one that Hunter had read to Jim while he was recovering from the coma. There is a wide variety of Mark Twain, Charles Dickens, Ernest Hemingway, Virginia Woolf and Stephen King and poetry books of Emily Dickinson and Walt Whitman.

"You okay with those?" Hunter had seen the wince.

"Absolutely." Jim gently runs his fingers over the spines of the books, recognizing each one, although he doesn't remember some of them being read to him, on account of being unconscious at the time.

"Can I get you to carry these for me? Bones won't let me lift anything heavy until my back's better." Jim rolls his eyes a bit, as if he thinks his doctor friend is being melodramatic. But lying in a hospital bed for two months means that even though the bones are repaired, the muscles in his back aren't quite back to a hundred percent.

"Of course I can." Hunter had to smile. Jim vocalized that he was okay with the choices, which makes him happy.

"Where would you like it set up?"

Jim has to consider that. It's going to be relatively temporary, though he hopes it's because he's going to be reassigned to the Enterprise once her repairs are done. He hasn't heard official news from Starfleet either way, just that his performance was being 'evaluated,' whatever that means.

"I guess for right now, my bedroom's fine."

"Oh good..." Hunter purrs a little. "I do want to see your bedroom."

He places everything back into the crate, to make it for easier lifting. "Lead the way... Mr. Spider."

Jim's room is on the second floor, up a relatively narrow set of stairs. And it's pretty obvious at first glance that Jim hasn't lived here long-term since he was younger. A lot younger.

The ceiling above his bed is decorated with glow-in-the-dark stars, carefully placed to mimic the actual night sky, and there are posters of musical groups that won't be familiar to Hunter, as well as one of the Beastie Boys. A few model starships decorate the sparse bookshelves already here, mostly bare of books in favor of holding a child's toys - action figures, brain teaser puzzles, even a feathered thing that upon closer inspection appears to be a more scientifically-accurate dinosaur.

There's room for Hunter's bookcase along one wall, between two of the posters. Jim smiles slightly, but it's pretty apparent he has no real strong attachment to this place. "Sorry about the decor. I didn't spend much time here after I was twelve."

Hunter frowns deeply, a little concerned that Jim has to stay in a place where he has no real strong attachment. The 12-year-old motif is also very obvious.

He sets the crate down, in between the two posters. "Well, good thing you know an artist, who is available for re-decorating."

"Thanks, but I'm hoping I won't have to stay here long." Jim really does appreciate the offer. He's just not sure it's worth it to stay.

He sits down on the bed, looking contemplatively up at the fake stars on the ceiling. "It feels kinda surreal being back here."

"I can't imagine..." Hunter sort of knows how Jim is feeling right now.

"It would be weird for me to have to go back to my childhood home."

Jim nods a little, looking over at him. "I could probably even stay in my mom's room. I don't think she'd ever even know, let alone care. But it's... weird. You know?"

"I can guess how that would feel..." Hunter starts setting up the bookcase. His own mother had passed away when he was just an infant. So he never knew her. And his father never kept any of her belongings.

Jim, in turn, never knew his father, so he's in good company.

Fortunately, helping put the bookcase together and fill it with books is something Jim can help with, since he doesn't have to lift too much at once, so he comes over to help Hunter. "Tell you what... if I don't hear from Starfleet about alternate housing by the end of the month, you and I can give this place a makeover. Deal?"

Hunter will divide up the books, so they each have something to do. He gives Jim a slight, warm smile at his offer. "That sounds like a deal."

"It is not a fitting room for seduction techniques."

Jim is hesitant to admit it, but there's really no getting around it. "I might not... be up for that for a little bit. Side effect." It's bothering him more than he's letting on, but McCoy told him it's to be expected, after all the trauma his body went through. And that he'll get back to normal before too long. But Jim's always been impatient, especially with himself.

Hunter looks up, a little alarmed that Jim might have thought he was being pressured into something he was not ready for. "Hey... I am in this for more than that." He chuckles. "I can wait. I promise."

Edited 2017-05-29 23:00 (UTC)

Jim actually reacts in much the same way, afraid that he's been misunderstood in turn. "I know, I just... wanna make sure we're on the same page."

An appropriate metaphor, as they fill the bookcase with the novels and poetry that Hunter has brought.

Hunter takes his time with his response. Busying himself for a moment, making sure those books are aligned nicely the bookshelf.

"I consider you as more than just a friend. You know that."

"And I will still flirt... because that is what comes natural. All that matters to me is that you are healthy and happy."

"I know that too," Jim agrees. "I just figured it'd be important to mention before anything got started that I can't finish," he adds, raising his eyebrows. There's no reason he can't flirt, too. It's just a blow to his ego to know that he's twenty-six and can't get it up.

Hunter reaches over to take Jim's hand in his own. "Don't worry sweetheart. We will make up for everything, when you feel better."

Jim, of course, pulls Hunter's hand a bit closer and kisses the back of it. "Hey, nothing says I can't take care of you in the meantime," he says, smiling a little, a trace of the old flirty Jim Kirk peeking out from underneath the darker mood he's been in these last few weeks. "But Spock and the others are supposed to be here soon, so 'later' sounds like a plan."

"I would enjoy that..." Hunter admits softly. He takes advantage of the opportunity to caress lightly against Jim's cheek when he kisses his hand.

"How are you feeling about what we are about to tell them?"

Jim considers that. "You know how some people rehearse what they're gonna say over and over, and then when the time comes, they screw it up? I've never been good at the whole 'planning it out' part," he admits.

"I didn't tell Spock any details, but I did tell him he's probably gonna call bullshit on the story, so he should be ready for a mind meld. Are you ready for that?"

"I am not quite sure what I should be ready for." Hunter admits softly. "I think the thing that scares me more... is having your protective crew want me out of your life."

Jim may be only passingly familiar with tact on some days, but he's aware enough not to outright dismiss Hunter's concern. "Why do you think they would they do that?"

"I have never been in a situation like this before. I am not sure what to think." Hunter realizes he is being a little foolish.

"They might think it is against time protocols or something stupid..."

"Starfleet does take the Temporal Prime Directive pretty seriously. If our Earths were the same, just separated by a few centuries, it'd definitely be a problem. But we both know by now that they're not. The Department of Temporal Investigations would've been on my ass about it months ago. And at this point, I'm pretty sure any damage would be done already."

Hunter breathes a slight sigh of relief when Jim tells him that. "I guess that is true."

"They're more likely to just think that we're both nuts," Jim admits, grinning a little. "It's one thing to say that I met a future Spock who fell through a black hole, because at least that's got science to back it up. It's a whole other thing to try to convince them that I fell through a magical hole in the multiverse that happens to also be the doorway to Conference Room One on the Enterprise. Which is why the mind meld is probably gonna be necessary."

"You are very much an Alice in your own Wonderland, aren't you." Hunter playfully ruffles Jim's hair.

"Well, I am as ready as I will get."

"'But I don't want to go among mad people,'" Jim quotes, smiling a little.

Jim's not sure anyone can truly be ready for a mind meld if they've never had one before, but he also has to admit that his own first experience was not a typical one, and he can't take it as the standard. "Then I guess we'd better head back downstairs."

"I think we are about done here." The bookshelf is set up with the books now. It is something for Jim to enjoy, while he has to live in his old place.

"Lead the way..."

They have decent timing, as Jim can hear the distant rumble of a hovercar engine approaching from the direction of Riverside's tiny shuttle terminal. It'll be a minute or two before it arrives, however, so Jim busies himself with the food synthesizer, creating a lemonade for himself with the push of a button. "You want anything to drink?" he asks Hunter.

"Um... sure..." Hunter tilts his head again. "How does that work?"

Jim debates giving the full technical explanation, but there's a lot of technological background knowledge needed to completely understand it, so he settles on a more simplified version that'll make sense to someone without that kind of knowledge. "It's kind of similar to transporters, except it's not moving anything from one place to another. It converts energy into matter, based on preprogrammed recipes. There's a lot of stuff it can't do right, like fresh fruit, and it can't make anything where it doesn't know the formula, so nothing too exotic."

"It is a little weird." Strange how this is how the future might be, some day.

"Kind of, I guess." Jim has a hard time seeing it that way, himself. Food synthesizers have done a lot to help prevent the kind of famine that once wiped out entire populations, and that's getting too deep into personal territory for today, so he doesn't say a word about it.

Instead he looks over at Hunter and smiles slightly. "What can I make you? Can't do alcohol yet though, sorry. Coffee, tea, soft drinks, fruit juice..." There's more, of course, but those seem fairly standard options.

Hunter sort of wishes he could bring a little of this technology back with him. To help the hungering masses. But that is not possible.

"Orange juice?"

Jim scrolls a little further down in the digital display and selects one of the options. The little alcove in the wall lights up briefly with swirling white light, and when it fades, there's a glass of orange juice waiting inside. Jim hands it over to Hunter. "Your wish is my command."

"I didn't know that I had rubbed your lamp..." Hunter has to get one more flirtatious jab at Jim, before his friends enter the farmhouse.

Jim already knows what his senior crew are likely to want, so he starts creating drinks for them too, as the hovercar finally pulls up in the driveway outside. "You wanna get the door for them?" he asks.

Hunter heads to the door, opening so that the crew members are welcomed inside. He greets each of them with a smile, and a "Hello."

Jim hasn't invited the entire bridge crew, of course. This is going to be a weird enough conversation with just a few of them. So for now, at least, it's only Uhura, Spock, and McCoy.

Uhura is first inside, and she greets Hunter warmly. "Oh, I didn't realize you were here already. Did you beam over?" There is, of course, no vehicle in the driveway to indicate his arrival.

He is at least glad the few who were all invited are people he had gotten to know, while Jim was in his coma. And he has a smile for Uhura, when she arrives.

"You asking me to reveal all my tricks?" He laughs softly. Not answering. But not lying either.

"Didn't realize you were a damn magician," McCoy grumbles, though Hunter will know by now that it's his default mood and not any kind of actual annoyance.

Spock regards Hunter with calm thoughtfulness, also reflecting on the lack of a second hovercar on Kirk family property. But he says nothing about it, inclining his head slightly. "Greetings, Hunter."

With Uhura's help, Jim brings the drinks out into the living room, still decorated with rather outdated furniture but at least it's clean. The strong scent of McCoy's black coffee mingles with the spicier scent of Spock's tea, and Uhura herself has some kind of yellow fruit punch. Jim takes a seat on one of the couches, not truly comfortable on the ancient padding, but drawing his comfort from the company instead.

Hunter has to only laugh at McCoy's grumbling. If he only knew that actual magic did still linger in Hunter's blood.

He can also see the Vulcan's mind slowly trying to piece together the puzzle, and knows it might not take him long.

Hunter takes note of the drinks that Jim serves to everyone. And takes a seat beside Jim, after grabbing his orange drink.

He feels a little jittery still. And part of him wants to do a 'so you are all wondering why I have brought you here today', as they did in the good old mystery movies. But he instead takes a sip of his drink.

Jim speaks first, setting his lemonade down on the low table in front of the couch. "So, we all haven't been completely honest here."

McCoy frowns deeply, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. "Now, Jim..."

Uhura picks up on his choice of phrasing right away, of course. There's a reason she's earned her place as the head of communications aboard the Enterprise. "I assume it's nothing classified," she says, her gaze flicking to Hunter.

Jim tries not to laugh. "I don't even know who would classify it if it was."

"Nothing classified. The we that Jim is talking about, is me and him." Hunter smiles softly. "And how that neither of us have been completely honest about where I have come from."

"And how if any one wanted to try to find my personal records... they wouldn't be able to. I sort of... don't exist on your world."

Spock tilts his head slightly. "Clarify." He can think of several things that might mean, and they all carry different implications. Whether it's something as relatively simple as Hunter being a covert agent of some type - unlikely, given his markings - or as grandiose as being some sort of alien energy being, come to visit Earth.

"You know how Ambassador Spock came from an alternate universe?" Jim says, and he kinda wishes that wasn't the only example at hand, because a universe that diverged thanks to time travel meddling in the works is one thing. "Turns out there are a lot of 'em. Infinite, actually."

"Jim found his way into a gathering point of those alternate universes. We call it a Nexus. Where we met..."

"I am from a dimension, where the year is 2017."

"There is no space travel. No Starfleet. No food processors."

Spock peers at Hunter with that stoic speculative look he often wears, his expression betraying nothing of his thoughts on the matter. In contrast, McCoy is expressive enough for the both of them, looking like he can't quite decide if he wants to be concerned that they've both suffered some kind of mutual hallucination, or possibly upset they didn't say anything sooner, or just plain skeptical of the whole matter.

Uhura responds first. "When did this happen? We didn't run into any spatial anomalies that could cause something like that."

Well, here goes the part that makes things sound really weird. Jim winces a little. "Apparently the doors to the Nexus can be pretty random. My first way in was, uh, Conference Room One." He pauses a moment while his crew stare at him and Hunter in disbelief. "That was just the one time."

"And you all had asked how I got here... I used a Nexus door, that Jim opened for me." Hunter wants to clarify that. "Someone else wouldn't have traveled here, until they had the right coordinates in the first place."

"The doors that lead into the Nexus usually only open for the person who they had intended to open them. It is actually a weird thing..."

"There is no danger to the person entering the Nexus either. There is an anti-violence field to prevent such things. And most people..." Jim gets a fond look from Hunter. "Find the brochures about the Nexus when they first enter, telling them about where they are. And how the place works."

"Intended? Someone controls access to this Nexus?" Uhura asks, picking up on that key phrase.

Jim, of course, is giving Hunter a similarly fond look, though this one has undertones of 'what, it's not my fault the brochures sounded like total bullshit.'

"Fascinating," Spock murmurs, his brow furrowed ever so minutely. "Captain, your prediction that this conversation would arouse skepticism was a logical one."

"Logical?" McCoy sputters. "Nothing about this is logical, Spock."

"Something controls the Nexus." Hunter voices it as an opinion. "The doors only open when there is a damn good reason. Usually because someone needs assistance that can only be provided by others in the Nexus."

"There is this general meeting place, where a person could ask a question, and have anyone... from any dimension, give them advice."

"I had been soul-searching myself, the first time I found myself there."

McCoy frowns even more, if that's even possible. "And what the hell were you looking for?" he asks Jim.

Jim shrugs. "Nothing, at the time." And it's just now occurred to him that whatever controls the Nexus may have known that he could use some help in the days after his first foray into its meeting grounds. Why not? Apparently time is no object, and things aren't always linear. But this might not be the best time to bring that up.

"Please forgive me, but while such things are theoretically possible, it is an... extraordinary claim," Spock says to Hunter, clasping his hands together in front of himself. "There is no other logical answer to much that I have noticed regarding your relation to the captain. But as a scientist, I am ill-equipped to take such matters on faith alone."

"We sort of thought that it would be difficult to take matters on faith alone." Hunter nods slightly.

He glances at Jim, not sure if he should be the one to offer the mind meld or not. "But I am willing to help provide scientific proof. However, you feel is best..."

"You speak of the mind meld technique," Spock says, and it isn't a question. Hunter mentioned it at Starfleet Medical, that first day he came to see their comatose captain. How he knows about it is another matter entirely, given that the year Hunter claims to call his home is pre-first contact.

"Jim told me about how Ambassador Spock used the technique on him." Hunter explains, answering the unasked question about how he knows about it.

Edited 2017-05-30 15:59 (UTC)

"He did what now?" McCoy demands, his head whipping around to glare accusingly at Jim.

"Later, Bones," Jim says, suppressing a sigh. It happened over a year ago but it's no surprise that the doctor is still going to fuss over the part where it happened at all. The captain looks back towards Spock. "I realize it's kind of a drastic step to take but it seemed... easier."

Spock looks contemplatively at Hunter. "It is not a thing to be undertaken lightly," he warns him. "There is no possibility of relaying falsehoods in the meld, but neither is there privacy. A master of Kolinahr would be able to present only structured, ordered thoughts to be read with a surface meld, but human minds are not so disciplined. Even a stray thought or memory may be transferred between parties, with no regard for intimacy or secrecy. If you still wish to present your proof in such a manner, it is your choice."

"I have nothing to hide..." Hunter tells him, and everyone in the room.

"And so it doesn't come as a surprise... since we have had enough of those... my appearance was altered by magic by a Witch in my world. She would have a strong presence in my mind still. She created the tattoos and the piercings that cover me. And there is still some of her magic that is within me."

Jim had rather hoped to leave the magic bombshell until after his crew have gotten over the multiverse thing, but at least Hunter has a good reason for springing it this soon. Of course, they're all looking at both of them like they're absolutely nuts.

"He really believes it," Uhura says, able to tell just by listening to Hunter's voice that he's being truthful, to the extent of his own knowledge. No magic or telepathy needed on her part; she's just that good.

"But magic's not possible," McCoy protests in disbelief.

"Not entirely correct, doctor," Spock says thoughtfully. "Humankind once believed that abilities outside their own capacity were impossible, and yet, you do not disbelieve that I am able to touch the minds of others."

"And I can show you the little control over the magic that I do have..." Hunter is glad that he has been taking his time to learn more about his own abilities.

"I shall be interested to see it," Spock says, and sets down his tea. "However, I must first verify that I am not proceeding forth on false assumptions. With your consent, I will touch your mind and corroborate the truth you offer."

"Consider my consent given." Hunter sets down his own glass of juice. He feels a little nervous, but reminds himself to stay calm.

Spock clasps his own hands together, index fingers against one another, ordering his own thoughts. "If you are familiar with meditative techniques, it would be wise to employ them to clear your mind. If not, calm your emotions to the best of your ability. Focus your thoughts on this Nexus you speak of. I shall not attempt to probe deeper, but as I said before, I will not be able to ignore stray thoughts."

"Clear my mind..." Hunter nods in understanding. He thinks about his rose garden first, the place where he feels most at peace. Then starts to focus his mind on the Nexus. The people he has met there. The experiences he has had there. The friends made. And just tries to keep his mind focused only on that.

Spock moves slightly closer, and reaches one hand out toward Hunter, lightly touching the pads of his fingers against specific points on the other man's face. His hands aren't quite as warm as a human's would be, but it's not uncomfortably cold, just cool. "Nahp, hif-bi tu throks," he says, his voice taking on an intonation that would not be out of place in a ritualistic setting. "My mind to your mind... my thoughts to your thoughts. Our minds... one and together."

It's like being at the top of the first hill on a rollercoaster, poised in a moment in time, waiting for the inevitable plunge into chaos and mayhem. Spock's mind is like a vast desert, massive stones arranged in logical patterns, but on the horizon, a dark storm gathers, and behind it lurks a deep ocean of emotions, locked away from the desert through rigid self-control. And the desert still bears the scars of a great flood, when the ocean ripped through the desert and tore his hard-earned stoicism to shreds.

Voices swirl between them, momentary phrases and snatches of words, but nothing solid, the proper memories where they come from dismissed almost as soon as they arise. The probing presence of Spock pushes deeper into Hunter's mind, exploring the shape of it, and listening for the truth in his thoughts.

The experience of that moment in time, waiting for that inevitable plunge of chaos and mayhem is one that Hunter is surprisingly familiar with. The feeling makes him think of a young girl, with bright green eyes, where a reflection of a young man can be seen in the depths of her eyes.

Then there is the sensation of 'seeing' Spock's mind. The logical patterns appeal to Hunter's artistic side. The dark storm beyond attracts his curiosity. There is something calming about the imagery of the desert for Hunter. He imagines a rose, blooming against all odds in the desert setting.

It is that rose that invokes Hunter's first memories of the Nexus. Painting by a lake, and getting to meet Verity and Schön. Those friends who were the first people who accepted him, when he was still struggling with his changed appearance. The friends who supported him to become someone stronger.

It was in the Nexus where he met some lifelong friends. He met some amazing people like Will Kent, Loki, Matt, Han Solo, Rhys, Captain Jack, and so many more. He had experiences that one could have never imagined, like getting to fly at the Samhain ball because Verity was Tinker Bell. Or going to the beach barbecue, and getting to meet Groot, a huge tree-like creature who could only say three words in English. Or being a support to those in need, like the symbiotic alien Faris.

Of course, that young woman is still in his Nexus memories. The emotions tied to her include anger, confusion, grief, sorrow, loss. A dance at Samhain was the last time Hunter saw her, before she walked away and out of his life.

And there is a general feeling that Hunter would be lost without the Nexus. He would still be that shy and self-conscious young man. He would have not embraced the opportunity for new art creations. He would have never had the chance to design for a museum that honored the world of his best friend -- whose door was permanently closed, since her world was erased from existence. He would have never had the nerve to stand up to his father, demanding his inheritance so he could create the foundation.

Hunter would not be the man he is now... sitting in this room, without the influence of the Nexus. And the people who has met there.

And somewhere, in his memories, Kendra smiles a little. As if she had know the whole time that it was a place he needed to be.

In the meld, there is no separation of individuals, no sense of self beyond the intertwining of their thoughts. In that moment, Spock is the desert, but so is Hunter, and as Hunter creates the rose blooming in the red sand, so does Spock.

So it is Spock who experiences the memories of painting by the lake, as if he was there, feeling what Hunter felt, saying what Hunter said. His thoughts flow with the human's, exploring the depth of memories in this new part of consciousness he may access, no barriers between them. He sees the woman, the museum, the confrontation... and most importantly, he sees the truth.

But there is one more thing he must know before he withdraws, to end the meld. A memory is pulled to the surface of Spock's mind, placing Hunter in the Vulcan's shoes, standing to the side of the command chair on the bridge of the Enterprise as Jim turns to face him, and smiles, the human's face full of warmth and pride.

When Hunter becomes Spock in that moment, it only pulls forth his own memory of standing near Jim, during his tour of the Enterprise. That smile. Seeing the captain so much in his own element. The warmth.

And that leads to surface memories of the intimacy of what happened between Hunter and Jim, when their tour took them to Jim's quarters.

The emotions tied to what was experienced, and the news of Jim's comatose situation, are more than just sexual. More than just friends. It is a close bond, one that Hunter has already come to terms that it is something that he will hold tight in his heart. Something he has told Jim, but doesn't expect the other man to return. That all he wants, most of all, is for Jim to be happy.

To have that smile. That warmth on his face. It means the world to Hunter.

Spock is not embarrassed by the brief glimpses of what happened in the captain's cabin, used to the human's irrepressible sexuality by now, no matter how personal an experience such a thing would be for a Vulcan. But neither does he dwell on it, letting Hunter's feelings take their natural course.

He has his answer.

Gently, Spock disentangles their minds, separating himself from Hunter until they are two minds once more, and lowers his hand from Hunter's face. "Fascinating."

It takes a moment, as their minds disentangle, for Hunter to adjust to having his mind to his own again. He is not embarrassed either by the glimpses of intimacy, that he knows Spock has seen. He is more trying to piece together how Spock led him to that memory, and wonders why.

"You have a beautiful mind." He speaks finally. Softly.

Spock's facial expressions are no less subtle than they were before. But with echoes of the mind meld still fresh in Hunter's mind, it'll be a little easier to read the tiny changes in his body language, the small clues to his mood that Jim seems able to read so well. The Vulcan inclines his head slightly, respectfully. "I thank thee for thy thoughts." Then he turns towards the others. "Hunter and the captain's report of the Nexus is accurate."

"Son of a bitch," McCoy mutters, shaking his head. Hearing it from Spock of all people, he accepts that it's true, but it's sure as hell hard to believe it.

Uhura looks at Jim thoughtfully. "This explains a lot."

Jim shrugs a little. "I probably would've said something eventually, once I figured out how to get around the mandatory psych eval."

"It was getting a little difficult for myself to keep hiding the truth." Hunter explains softly. His eyes are a little wet, still from all the emotions invoked during the mind meld.

"One of my best friends can sense lies. It is her special ability. And I just kept thinking about how disappointed she would be in me."

"And as I got to know all of you... it just became more of a struggle. I felt that there was a possibility of friendship, but also knew that I would never be comfortable hiding the truth from new friends."

"You know that we won't always be able to return the favor, right?" McCoy points out, frowning. "Not that I don't get where you're coming from or anything."

"I am aware that you have classified information, that you can not share." Hunter shrugs his shoulders, slightly. "Besides, I wouldn't understand anything that has to do with technology or programs that I am unfamiliar with."

"I am not going to judge you, based on that. It is part of your jobs."

"That's actually also part of why I wanted us to talk about this, away from Starfleet," Jim tells the group as a whole. "Access to the Nexus in the wrong hands could be a nightmare."

"Thirty-One," Uhura says, nodding a little. If Jim had not mentioned Section 31 to Hunter, he would have no idea what she was referring to, besides just a number.

Spock raises an eyebrow, maybe a little impressed with the captain's forethought. He's not exactly known for it, after all. "Such knowledge could indeed be dangerous."

Hunter doesn't understand the 31 reference. But he doesn't ask for clarification either. He figures it must be another one of those classified information items.

"Since both Jim and I have access to a Nexus-style communicator... that is actually how you first messaged me." Hunter mentions to Spock. "So it is important to make sure no one gets their hands on Jim's communicator."

"I had wondered why I was unable to send you a message using any other communicator," Spock muses out loud. "Captain, may I examine the device?"

Jim winces a little. "Much as I'd honestly love to know how the hell it works, I don't think that's a good idea. Even if you keep notes in your head, you're not immune to other telepaths, and not everybody's as courteous as Vulcans about it. Until we know how much of Thirty-One is left, we'd better keep it under wraps." He nods towards Hunter. "I don't think anyone'll be able to duplicate the whole magic thing, so that should be safe for study."

Hunter looks around the room, there is not any artwork around the living room that he could use as an example.

"I think even demonstrating with my own tattoos would be a good enough example."

And after considering the best option for a demonstration, Hunter stands for a moment. "I am going to remove my shirt... just a second."

He had decided on removing his shirt, since the biggest section of his tattoos is right on his chest. A heart-shaped cluster of tattoos.

"Now remember, that these are all just ink on my skin, ordinarily..." Hunter tells them all. Then he places his left hand lightly at the edge of the heart-shaped tattoo. He closes his eyes, concentrating on the magic within him. And within seconds, the heart-shaped tattoo starts to beat. Slowly at first. But soon, it is beating like a regular human heart would.

"Taking off- my god, Jim, no wonder you like this fella," McCoy snarks to Jim, who just grins back at him. Having his sex drive put on hold certainly doesn't mean the captain can't appreciate the beauty that is a shirtless Hunter.

Spock watches with calm, scientific fascination. Uhura leans forward in her seat, paying rapt attention to the motion of the ink on his skin. "Animate tattoos. That's pretty cool," she says.

Edited 2017-05-31 15:52 (UTC)

"My tuning myself to the magic, I can also animate pictures. I can make a painting come to life..." As Hunter continues to focus on animate the heart-shaped tattoo, there is a burst of color on the rose-bush on his left forearm. As several roses bloom to life for a moment.

Jim remembers Hunter working on animating paintings, before Khan made his move and sent everyone's lives to hell. Two months is more than enough time to get the hang of it, but Jim hadn't been aware he'd had the time to work on it. "You got it working?"

"For a couple of minutes... ten at the most" Just like he can only make the heart-shaped tattoo on his chest beat for a couple of minutes, before he feels drained and must stop. "It is a little emotionally exhausting. But I am just starting to practice and train myself further."

"I really don't have anyone to teach me..."

Spock tilts his head slightly, an expression of curiosity and mild puzzlement. "Are there not others who might assist you?"

"If there is any place where I could find such a person, it will be the Nexus. And I have had dear friends offer their support." That had been one of the memories of the Nexus that Hunter had shared. When both Jim and Verity had visited with Hunter, after his first display of his abilities. And of course, the constant support of Schön would have been remembered.

"I also get the feeling that Kendra was not the only one with those powers. So who knows... I could find a door that leads to her past. Her people."

McCoy shakes his head a little. "Sorry but this is doin' my head in. Doors to other universes that pop up outta nowhere, living tattoos, some kinda... transdimensional communicators..."

"Is it really that much stranger than time travel through artificial black holes?" Jim points out. "Not to mention the part where I'm not dead right now."

McCoy visibly flinches, and he folds his arms across his chest defensively, uncomfortable. "That's a low blow, Jim."

"But still true," Jim answers. "I don't get how it works either. But it is real."

Hunter takes the opportunity to put his shirt back on, a small frown on his face when Jim talks about his own near-death experience.

"I know people who live in the Nexus. It is the only place for them to go."

"As unusual as it sounds... it is a safe environment."

"Hang on," Uhura says, frowning a little. "You're from 2017?"

"Not our 2017," Jim assures her. "History's different enough that there's no real risk of... doing a Nero." It's a ridiculous turn of phrase, but his crew understand what he means without elaboration. "I haven't heard a peep from DTI, so I'm pretty sure we're in the clear, as long as we don't cheat."

"And there are some people who use magic in my world. That is another difference..."

Hunter chuckles lightly. "I actually have heard some people compare my story, with Kendra, and the appearance change, to the storytale of 'Beauty and the Beast'."

"Don't tell me you think Jim's your Beauty," McCoy says before he can really think about it.

Uhura looks amused to no end, and Spock raises an eyebrow, mentally reviewing his knowledge of the fairytale. Jim just gives Hunter a flirty sort of look.

"Well, in the original story, Beast tried to win Beauty's favor with lavish riches and the best clothing in the kingdom."

Hunter exchanges a flirty look with Jim, smiling almost predatory. "Doesn't seem all that bad... does it?"

Jim grins back at him, suppressing a chuckle. "If I remember right, in some popular depictions of the Beast, he also gave Beauty a ton of books."

"Did he now..." Hunter chuckles lightly. Of course he knows that part of the story. "Well, the later versions did realize that he could be seductive by offering knowledge. And a chance of new adventure."

"I'd tell you two to just get a room already but I know how that'll go," McCoy grumbles.

"This must all be very strange for you," Uhura says to Hunter. "Being out of your time."

Hunter just cocks an eyebrow at McCoy's grumbling. He hopes he is not making light of Jim's current physical limitations.

"It is..." He directs his attention on Uhura. "I feel very silly, asking about things that are every-day objects for you all. But now you will all know why I might have looked confused or lost, when you have mentioned previous technology."

Jim doesn't look offended, at least. "It's kind of been a reminder how much advanced tech we take for granted. Speaking of, I think it's about time for lunch."

He had to give some excuse for why he was inviting them over to begin with, and he's hardly going to fail to honor that promise. Especially when it comes to feeding his people.

"Did you need any help with that?" Hunter offers.

Jim smiles a little in gratitude, but shakes his head. "Thanks, but I haven't bought anything fresh, so it's all synthesized today. Any requests?"

Spock folds his hands together. "You are aware of my preferences, captain. I trust you will choose a suitable dish."

"Can it do something like a Monte Cristo?" Hunter is curious. He is not sure what would be on the menu, after all.

The choices aren't quite endless, but they are rather vast, so it's hard for Jim to give him a menu, as it were. But he does nod at Hunter's question. "Sure thing. Uhura?"

"What the hell, make it two," she answers.

Jim has known McCoy long enough to know what he wants without asking, so he doesn't bother to consult the doctor for his order. "Coming right up."

As Hunter gets relaxed back on the couch, buttoning up his shirt quietly, he feels a sense of calmness now that his big secret is known by these people who had gotten to know in the past few weeks.

There don't seem to be any big questions from them yet, but he knows it will take them a little time to absorb everything they were told.

"Good to know that my Beauty is an expert in the kitchen." He teases lightly.

"Not hard when all you've gotta do is push a button," Jim says with a shrug, heading out to the kitchen to make good on his lunch promises.

The Kirk house has a perfectly serviceable dining room, but Jim doesn't want this to be any kind of formal dinner, anything where he sits at a table with his crew and gets called captain. He's among friends, and they're making it bearable to be in this house in the first place. So he doesn't call anyone to leave the living room, instead serving lunch to be eaten wherever they're sitting already, no matter if it's a couch or an armchair. Monte Cristos for Uhura and Hunter, a vegetarian hummus wrap for Spock, and fried catfish for McCoy.

Jim debates trying to cheat on his prescribed diet, his digestive system still a bit touchy from the aftereffects of the radiation, but he knows better. And besides, his own personal doctor is right here to yell at him if he does. So he reluctantly synthesizes some chicken and rice soup instead.

It's quite the variety of foods, but preparation takes only a minute or two before everyone can eat.

It still amazes Hunter to have so many different types of meals served, simply by pushing a button. And it seems very calming to sit with the crew, eating lunch in the living room.

"This is very amazing."

"It's still better to make it all fresh with real ingredients," Uhura tells him as they eat. "They haven't made a synthesizer yet that knows how to create real garden-grown vegetables."

"Well, maybe someday, I can cook for you all... I can bring it here, to your dimension. Or maybe you could come by my place."

"I assume by 'you all' you mean us sitting in this room right now, and not a few hundred people," McCoy says, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course, a small group would be better. And less complicated to explain things..." Hunter chuckles lightly.

"Speaking of, I think it's best we keep this whole Nexus thing just between us for a while," Jim tells his crew. "I'll try to find a good time to let Sulu and Chekov in on it, but I don't think we should tell anyone else. Except maybe Scotty. There's no way he's part of Thirty-One."

"Why would you not inform him of this now?" Spock questions.

"He's got enough to worry about with the Enterprise repairs," Jim says, shaking his head slightly. "I don't want him getting too sidetracked. Besides, it'd be tempting to try to integrate Nexus tech with the ship, and that's a can of worms I don't want to even think about opening."

Spock gives him a puzzled look, clearly wondering why one would can worms, or what effects opening that can would have. "I'll explain later," Uhura murmurs to him.

"If you need me for those conversations, just let me know." Hunter offers. He is quite willing to be 'proof' of the Nexus.

Jim smiles a little in gratitude, though his thoughts are now turning towards the Enterprise, his beloved lady, lying wounded in drydock. Just as her captain had lain wounded in Starfleet Medical, they both still have a long way to go before they're ready to go back out again. "Thanks. It might be a while, but I'll let you know."

Edited 2017-06-01 14:52 (UTC)

Hunter can guess where Jim's thoughts are turning right now. He wants to ask about the Enterprise repairs, but has not voiced it yet since he figures that much of the work being done on the ship might be classified. And he would rather not make the others uncomfortable with the fact they can't tell him anything.

"I just wish I could help, somehow." He reaches over to clasp Jim's hand in his own.

"Not all help is physical," McCoy says, possibly the most philosophical thing he's said all day.

Jim gives Hunter's hand a little squeeze, still smiling slightly. "You are, trust me."

Both men's reassurances does make Hunter feel better. He smiles fondly at Jim, stroking his thumb over top Jim's hand, returning that squeeze.

"Thanks." His admiration for the Captain is displayed clearly on his face. No mind meld needed.

"I'm going to see her later," Jim says, going back to eating his soup.

McCoy scowls at him in disapproval. "Oh, is that why you have that deathtrap parked outside?"

"Are you talking about the... hoverbike?" Hunter smiles. A large, gleeful smile.

"It's not the same one I had before, but yeah," Jim says with a nod. "If you want to bring yours over, we can go together."

"Captain, I do not believe that the posture needed to drive such a vehicle will be beneficial to your recovery," Spock says, frowning very slightly.

Jim rolls his eyes a little. "I'll be fine, Spock. It's not like it's a long-distance trip."

"That would be awesome..." Hunter loves riding his bike. He loves the idea of going on a day trip with Jim even more.

He can see that there are a few crew members who don't think this is a great idea. And offers his only recommendation. "Maybe we could switch out the seat to something bigger, with more support, just for the time being?"

"It's not the seat so much as the leaning forward part," Jim explains, but levels a somewhat stern captainly look at Spock. And McCoy, who matches it with a scowl of his own. "I'll turn on all the safety features. Promise."

"Jim..." McCoy sighs a little, frustrated.

A look of understanding flickers across Jim's face, but the stubbornness doesn't budge an inch. "You can't keep me in a bubble, Bones. It's not being reckless. It's life. And if anything does happen to me, I'm not going to be riding alone," he adds, looking over at Hunter.

Hunter nods slightly, when Jim looks at him. He knows that the others are worried about losing their captain again.

"Recovery has to be a little bit more than just physical. There has to be an emotional commitment too." Hunter speaks softly. Trying not to be that 'busy-body' who doesn't have the right to voice his opinion.

He glances around the room, the place where Jim has negative feelings attached to it. "You have to make the connections that are important to you. And for Jim, that is the Enterprise."

"And you all know that I would do anything to help him. Right now, I believe with all my heart, this bike ride would be a benefit for him. For us both."

Uhura glances over at Spock, who nods slightly, before she turns her attention back to Hunter. "You'll keep him from doing anything too stupid, right?"

Hunter is glad that he didn't have to voice his feelings for Jim out loud. He is glad that Spock knows. And that he is communicating that fact to Uhura.

But it is already a delicate enough situation between him and Jim, that it really doesn't need to be voiced to more people than necessary.

"As much as I can..." Hunter gives Jim a playful look.

Jim gives him a fondly exasperated look right back. "Would it help if I swore an oath not to drive the bike into the quarry too?"

"Well now that you mention it..." McCoy says. He doesn't look happy about his friend's plans, but in the end, Jim is in fact a grown-ass man who can make his own dumb decisions. "You've got my comm frequency, right Hunter? I don't care if all he does is skin a knee; I wanna know about it."

"I was able to incorporate your comm frequency into my PINpoint." Hunter pauses, then clarifies, "The Nexus communication device that I carry."

Jim is rather glad he doesn't have to push too hard on this particular point. His mood has improved a bit with the company, and his crew's quite reasonable responses to the news that not only is magic a real actual thing, but that Jim has been hopping universes in his spare time (and sometimes on duty). But had McCoy not conceded, it's quite likely that Jim's mood wouldn't last.

He's had his life controlled by others a little too long. Not just in that he's a Starfleet officer, but also all the medical hoopla he's been through these past two months, not to mention the part where no one wanted to let him prepare for the fact that he can't go home to his destroyed apartment, instead leaving him nowhere to live but the house he's hated since he was little. He needs a little space, something he can choose to do for himself without someone mother henning him to death.

And he's quite grateful that Humter has his back here.

"Perhaps it would be of reassurance to message Doctor McCoy once your journey has completed without incident," Spock suggests reasonably. He directs this not only to Jim, but Hunter as well.

"I will take a Selfie of us at the end of the journey, and send it to him." Hunter offers. Do they still take 'selfies' in the future?

"And I can't wait to see your bike." He tells Jim.

McCoy looks somewhat baffled by the term, but Uhura - the linguistics expert in the group - understands after a moment's thought. "I'd think that would be proof enough that you're both in one piece."

Jim smiles a little at Hunter. "Can't wait to see yours, either. Make sure you're fueled up before you bring it over, if it still burns fossil fuels."

"Right..." Hunter has to laugh, not even thinking that something as common-place as gas would not be available to him.

"Thanks for reminding me. We would not want to get stranded... and I stopped playing the 'out-of-gas' card when I left high school."

Spock looks mildly intrigued, if disapproving, at the notion of a vehicle that requires such primitive fuel sources. "Have your vehicle manufacturers not researched more efficient forms of propulsion? I understand that burning such fuels was the primary pollutant throughout Earth's twentieth century." His disapproval is scientific only, with no judgment on Hunter himself.

"There are some places that offer biodiesel, vegetable oil, or electric models of vehicles... but they are not widely used or sold yet." Hunter doesn't feel that he is being judged. And just explains a little bit more of his own take on things.

"There is still that industrial competition between automobile manufacturers, that they are more concerned with their bottom line over spending money to invest in vehicles that use alternate fuels."

"And right now, in my world, it is Big Oil companies that pave the streets. While there are people who protest pipelines and the use of fossil fuels... the majority of people in North America are still consumers of those fossil fuels."

"I did say your economy is weird, right?" Jim says to Hunter, amused. He wants to ask how far Hunter's gas-burner will go on a full tank, but with McCoy sitting right here listening, he knows it'll just come across like he's planning some kind of epic road trip across Iowa instead of just a jaunt over to the shipyards.

Which, you know, he is, so it's a fair assumption. But he hardly wants McCoy to know that or he'll stop him.

"I definitely prefer the Barter system used in the Nexus." Hunter agrees.

He senses that Jim might just want an epic road trip. Get away for a little bit. So he plays the distraction card.

"If you would like to see an actual paper bill from 2017... I got a few $20s in my wallet."

Spock is on the very edge of launching into a verbal dissertation on the merits of barter versus fiat currency, so McCoy practically trips over himself to cut the Vulcan off before he can get going, otherwise they'll be here forever. "Is that a lot?"

"A $20? No. It is in the middle of the bills actually printed by the Mint, the others being the $1, $2, $5, $10, $50 and $100."

"Most people are using Debit or Credit cards these days."

"A $20 could buy you a decent meal at an average restaurant. And it is considered more than what an average worker would make in an hour. But it is not going to be enough to purchase groceries, or pay for energy or electricity."

Edited 2017-06-01 23:03 (UTC)

The idea of having to pay for the basics of what a person needs to live is so foreign to them all. Jim knows a little more about it than the others, but even he finds it a bit barbaric. "In this century, Earth's resources are shared with everyone," he explains to Hunter, helping to give some context to the perturbed looks on everyone else's faces. "Nobody on this planet dies just because they don't have enough money for whatever they need to live."

Of course, Hunter knows that Jim knows what real hunger is like. But the captain chose his words carefully. After all, Tarsus IV is not Earth. And judging by the lack of reactions from his crew, no one else seems to know there's anything out of the ordinary about the situation.

"I'd like to see this bill," Uhura says, leaning forward in interest. She's never been much of a historian, but given the chance to hold a relatively new example of ancient, archaic currency, she can't pass it up.

"That sounds like a much better way to live..." Hunter answers simply. He is assuming that Jim's experience with hunger is not related to anything he has shared with the crew. So he doesn't bring it up...

Hunter opens his wallet, and pulls out the grayish $20 bill to hand it over to Uhura. It bears the picture of President Andrew Jackson.

"Especially when you consider that every country has their own currency, and that some countries... like the United States... are considered to be 'wealthier' than other countries which makes their currency worth more."

Uhura turns the bill over in her fingers, feeling the texture of the bill, examining even the small print. "Earth has been all digital for over eighty years," she says, passing the bill along to Spock. "Regional currency went out of fashion around the same time."

"I do hope we get there."

"I have lived on both sides of the currency fence, as I was raised in a wealthy home, but later in my life had lived on the streets."

"But even what I experienced is not as tough as those who live in what is considered a Third World Country."

Jim's starting to get a little uneasy with this topic of conversation, as it becomes more likely for it to veer towards memories he'd like to forget. So he tries to steer it towards safer territory. "Speaking of Nexus barter, did you find a good use for that wire yet?" he asks, hiding his discomfort with genuine interest.

Edited 2017-06-01 23:59 (UTC)

"I sure have." Hunter is content to change the conversation once again. "I have been using it to create these little tiny metal trees. You can twist the wires together to make thicker branches. And with a little welding torch, you can melt the ends to form little leaves."

"Oh, is that what you wanted the conductive wire for?" Uhura asks Jim, perking up in interest. "Little gold trees sound adorable."

"Sounds like I might have to barter one away from you sometime," Jim tells Hunter, one corner of his mouth quirking up in a smile.

"So you can give me something else I can turn into an art project, and then you are wanting one my creations and barter something else?" Hunter laughs. He is totally okay with this. Jim is welcomed to barter with him anytime.

"If you make stuff my crew want, then sure, why not? At what point does it become a commission, anyway?"

"I would be honored to make something for everyone in this room. It would take me a lot more time to do something for your whole crew..."

But he does work good under a timeline. He finished those stylized portraits for the memorial in time.

"But I am sure we can work out a suitable commission." He winks.

"Don't worry about it," Jim assures him. "We're not on a time limit. But I'll take a wishlist, if you've got one."

"And if I get a wish list from those who want one of my art pieces... then I can start working."

"Do you have a particular favorite gem stone, Uhura? I can incorporate it into a little gold tree for you."

Uhura considers that. "I have to love tsavorite. Hometown pride. But it's so rare, especially in your century. Rubies are a close runner-up."

Hunter nods slightly. It would be difficult for him to find tsavorite in his dimension, but he has some good friends in the Nexus who have sources. And he just might surprise Uhura. He likes surprising people.

"McCoy?" He smiles. "You don't seem like a small gold tree would fit..."

"Oh hell, kid, I'm not an artsy jewelry kind'a guy," McCoy protests, shifting uncomfortably, his Georgian accent a little thicker than it usually is. "You don't have to make me anything. Just keep Jim from doing any damn fool daredevil stunts; that's good enough for me."

"Hey," Jim protests, but there's no real fire in it. It's just a fact of life that Bones worries about him, now more than ever.

"And I just don't do jewelry..." Hunter laughs. "I made a bookcase for Jim. I also work in sculpture. Marble. Metal art."

"I could even take some medical tools that are used in my dimension, and make them into something for you."

"Ah, forget it," Jim says, but there's a glimmer of humor in his eyes as he casts a look at Hunter. "He's more into collecting antiques. You're such an old man, Bones."

"I'm only six years older'n you, Jim."

"So if I find an antique in my dimension, it should be especially of interest to you." Plan made. He knows of a lot great little antique stores.

"Spock?" He turns to the Vulcan next. "How about you?"

Spock concludes his analysis of the twenty dollar bill and hands it back to Hunter. "While artwork and beauty are admirable contributions to culture, it is not my preference to collect items with no additional function," he replies. Though it doesn't show on his face, Hunter has seen the depth of emotion lurking behind those very human eyes of his, and the great ocean of sorrow for the loss of his home planet and so many of his people. Were Hunter able to get artworks from Vulcan, Spock would be honored to take possession of such rare and priceless pieces of his people, most of their culture now lost to the black hole that consumed their world.

Conversely, of course, Hunter could always find something to make for him that would serve more purpose than just to be admired, but Spock would never outright ask for something like that.

"I can understand that." Hunter slips the $20 back into his wallet. "My friend Verity, the one who can sense lies, has a difficult time truly appreciating artwork when it doesn't have an additional function."

So he will approach Spock's art piece in the same manner that he would for Verity. Something that would serve a purpose.

And he will also be talking to Schön -- the one man who would know if there are any Nexus doors that would lead to a culture that is now lost to the world.

Edited 2017-06-02 02:14 (UTC)

Hunter hadn't mentioned her name before, but now Jim sits up and takes notice, the name familiar enough to catch his attention. "Verity Willis? Pink hair, glasses, lots of tattoos?"

"That's my girl." Hunter grins. He finds it a little amusing that Jim would consider Verity to have a lot of tattoos.

"You met her, I am assuming?"

Hey, it's a useful identifying feature, especially for someone who has none. "Yeah, first day out. We went grocery shopping."

"So that's where the apples came from," McCoy says out loud, eyeing Jim with a grumpy yet fond expression.

"I have met so many new Nexus visitors whose during their first visit had met Verity. She is our resident Nexus expert."

Spock looks lightly puzzled. "The Nexus must be a relatively small space, then?" That doesn't sound logical. A convergence of multiple universes should be an incredibly crowded hub, particularly when such universes are so numerous as to be practically infinite.

"No. Quite the opposite in fact. It has endless locations and potential places to meet up."

"There is a common area where people first arrive, and ask their questions."

"And as for Verity... her world is gone. It doesn't exist anymore. So she actually resides in the Nexus."

"I see." Even Spock's hard-earned Vulcan calm isn't enough to conceal his sympathy at the loss of a world, something he knows deeply, personally.

"The funny thing is, I wasn't in that common area at the time," Jim tells Hunter. "But like you said, there could be something controlling the place, making sure certain people meet."

[ooc: Are you getting email notifs? I'm not.]

"My first time there was at the park... and I definitely met the right people at the right time." Hunter agrees with that sentiment.

[[huh. strange...]]

"I dunno if I like the idea of some unseen force pushing people around," McCoy says uneasily. "Especially you, Jim."

Jim is very, very tempted to say something like 'You'd think by now I'd be tired of others deciding what's best for me, right?' But he can't make himself be that petty right now. So instead he says, "I'm going into it with both eyes open, don't worry."

"And it is not like we are being pushed around... or being forced to do something that we wouldn't normally do."

"It is more of benevolent unseen force... that when a new arrival shows up to the Nexus, that the door opens in a place where there are others around to provide assistance and guidance."

"If Jim didn't want to talk to Verity, or me, or anyone else he had bumped into... he would have walked away and no one would force him to stay put. He had the choice to just turn around and go back through his door the whole time."

Jim nods in agreement, definitely glad that he and Hunter decided to do this conversation together. It's a lot easier to not sound nuts when someone else backs you up. "Besides, you want to talk about weird unseen forces pushing people together, don't forget that Ambassador Spock's Enterprise had the same bridge crew we do, and they got together under completely different circumstances."

"It is a great place to make friends and new acquaintances. I even know of people who met in the Nexus, fell in love, and got married and had a family."

"One of my friends, his parents are from different dimensions. He wouldn't exist if they had not met in the Nexus."

"That's a hell of a long distance relationship," Uhura says, impressed. Her gaze also flicks briefly between Hunter and Jim, though she doesn't say anything else.

Hunter noticed that brief gaze. He smiled softly.

"It is not like they jumped into anything right away. They dated for a couple years. During that time, April, my friend's mother, had lived in the Nexus. Then once they were married, April moved into her husband's dimension. That is where the family live now."

He looks around the house, smiling a little. "In a farm house in Smallville, Kansas."

"You know, for a city guy, you know a hell of a lot of country folks," Jim says, a little amused.

"Much easier to wine and dine a country folk, who might be impressed by the many swanky restaurants in the big city," Hunter teases lightly.

Speaking of dining, everyone seems to be done with lunch, so Jim gathers up the few dishes and puts them in the sterilizer, a process that also only takes a minute or so. Spock inclines his head a little. "Thank you, captain. This meeting has been most enlightening."

"Duty calls?" Jim guesses, noticing that both Spock and Uhura look like they're getting ready to leave.

"Unfortunately," Uhura confirms. "Nothing urgent, but there's still a lot of paperwork that's been piling up."

"Thank you for being so open-minded." Hunter stands to say his good-bye.

Spock tilts his head again, and Hunter will be able to tell he is somewhat reluctant to leave, fascinated by the implications that the Nexus's existence opens up. "One must always be open to new possibilities. To assume that we know all that exists is arrogance in its totality."

"'There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy,'" McCoy drawls. He, too, is getting ready to leave, as they all came together, and the doctor is less than eager for Jim to have to give him a lift to the shuttleport on his bike, so he can't miss his ride.

"And the three of you are more than welcome to come by my Nexus apartment, the next thing we get together." They will get a small taste of what the Nexus offers from his place.

"I will make supper." He grins.

"I'm sure we can schedule something," Uhura agrees, smiling.

"A gracious offer," Spock agrees. Of course, he's now more aware than before that Hunter has had almost no contact with Vulcans before. And just because someone eats one vegetarian meal does not necessarily mean they always eat that way, so it is logical to inform a potential dinner host of his culture's dietary restrictions long before it becomes an issue. "Please be advised, I do not consume meat."

"A gracious host always finds out the dinner preferences of their guests. I will make sure to have a suitable option for you."

"And if anyone has any allergies, I will be sure to avoid those." That might be something else that is not as common in the future, as it is during Hunter's timeline.

Allergies, sadly, are still around in the twenty-third century, but those that are related to food are a bit rarer than medical allergies. "I'll getcha a list," Jim tells him with a grin, as he sees his guests to the door.

McCoy grabs Jim up in a hug before he goes, though. "Don't do anything dumb, Jim. I'm not kidding. You're on medical leave for another two weeks; try 'n act like it, all right?"

Jim rolls his eyes a little and thumps a hand against the doctor's back. "I'll take it easy, Bones."

McCoy releases him, and looks past Jim to Hunter. "I still say this all sounds crazy, but I guess now I've got somethin' to think about for a bit."

"Maybe it be a nice distraction, ever now and then." Hunter grins. He is glad to see that Jim does have such a protective doctor, who is also his friend.

Jim appreciates that too, although sometimes the mother henning gets to be a bit much. "I'll see you next week, if not sooner," he promises.

And then Jim and Hunter are alone again, as the others take their leave. "Well that went better than I expected," Jim admits, his body relaxing a little as some of the tension leaves his shoulders.

"Me too..." Hunter smiles. He sits back down. "I am glad we told them."

"It's gonna make taking side trips a bit easier," Jim agrees. "Like if I show up with a bag full of apples in the middle of deep space again, at least now I've got a good excuse. And co-conspirators."

"I can just imagine their faces when you had done that..." Hunter chuckles.

Jim shrugs a little. "It's not the first time I've smuggled apples somewhere I'm not supposed to have them. First time it's been more than one, though. Good thing that old saying about apples warding off doctors is bullshit, right?"

"I don't think that you would really want to ward off your doctor, as much as pretend otherwise." Hunter tilts his head, smirking slightly.

Jim smiles a little. "Depends on what I did to myself this time." His smile fades slightly, though, as he is unavoidably reminded why he's on medical leave. As funny as it is to see Bones' face when he's minorly injured himself a dozen times over the years, there's nothing funny about it this time.

"He cares a lot for you." Hunter observes softly. "So he wants to protect you."

"I know." Jim sighs a little, turning to face him. "And believe me, it's nice to have people that give a shit about me."

"They definitely do give care..." Hunter nods slightly.

"I saw that much when we were all waiting in the hospital."

"Yeah, I know. I'm not ungrateful, I just... really want this to be over." At the same time, he wonders if he should feel guilty for even thinking that. After all, it was his choice to climb into the warp core. His choice to give his life for his crew. He should be grateful to even be alive to be nagged in the first place.

"And there will come a day, when you are back on your ship, adventure just a flight away... and maybe a part of you will miss the chance you have now."

"To be free a little. You might be on medical leave, but there are things you can do. Things you can enjoy. Adventure you can have."

Jim gives him a slightly amused look, though there's not a ton of humor in it. "I meant Bones' fussing. I mean, hell, he worries about me more than my actual mother."

"I would suggest that you 'play Doctor' with him, to distract him, but we both know how that would turn out right now."

Jim shrugs a little. "Can't sleep with crew anyway. Regulations." Of course, he still doesn't know if they are going to be his crew again. If he's going to continue to be captain of the Enterprise, after all that's happened. And he's doing his best not to show how much it'll hurt if Starfleet Command decides he doesn't deserve it.

He shakes his head a little. "So... when do you want to take that ride?"

"Whenever you feel ready." Hunter feels like Jim needs a little control in his life. Something that he gets to decide.

He smiles slightly. "I have a confession to make... I really am going to visit the shipyards, but I don't plan to just stop there. Interested?"

Edited 2017-06-03 01:58 (UTC)

"I sort of guessed that..." Hunter smiles softly in return. "Yes. I am."

"How far can you go on one tank? I'd hate to get you stranded." Seems only fair to find out before Hunter runs out in the middle of nowhere, so they can plan to bring along extra fuel if necessary.

"I have a fuel efficient bike. I get about 85 miles-per-gallon."

"So about 150 miles. Give or take..."

[making me do some conversion math here...]

Jim was sort of expecting more than that, since he has no real experience with gas-burning vehicles. And Iowa has a whole lot of nothing in between cities. But there are a few options. "There's an old art museum up in Cedar Rapids, about forty miles north of here. It's over three hundred years old, so it probably exists back home for you, too, but I figure the art's probably different."

"That sounds nice."

"And what I can do is set up a PINpoint right to my garage, so if I do get low on gas, I just have to go back through the door for a refill."

Jim has no idea what kind of cost that'll be to Hunter, given that apparently people in the twenty-first century have to pay for everything, so he figures it's only fair to offer to pitch in. "Let me know what's worth a tank of fuel and I'll get it for you. Since this is my idea."

"You don't really have to do that..." Hunter knows it would be difficult to figure out a value. "We will barter for something."

"Besides, you are taking me to see some art."

"Sure, but my bike won't cost me anything to get there," Jim says, raising his eyebrows. "Seems unfair."

"Not in my opinion." Hunter shrugs his shoulders. "You are taking me on an adventure."

"Fine, you win." Jim puts his hands up slightly in surrender, though he's still planning on finding some way to compensate Hunter for the cost, even if he has to be sneaky about it. But he'll worry about that later. "It's a bit too late to set out today, and if I skip out on PT, Bones will know, so I've gotta pick my days carefully. I'll check my calendar and get back to you."

"Now if that isn't a 'it is time to leave', I don't know what is." Hunter grins slightly. He stands up, moving towards Jim, so he can take the other man's hands in his own.

"You know how to get a hold of me."

Jim smiles a little, squeezing Hunter's hands gently. "If you want to hang out a bit, I'm not chasing you out. Just no epic road trip today." But of course, if Hunter has other things to do and places to be, he understands. Life goes on, after all, and even though Jim is not a fan of being alone in this house, he can't have company over forever.

Besides... now he has some extra reading material to keep himself occupied.

"I don't feel chased out."

Hunter reaches up to touch Jim's face. "I would like to stay. The night, if that is okay?"

Jim's smile widens a little, grateful for Hunter's sensitive soul, and he lifts a hand to cover Hunter's. Being in this house is weird enough without being here alone. "That's fine with me. My bed's a bit small to share, but my brother's room is free. He hasn't lived here even longer than I have."

"I am fine with staying in your brother's room."

He glances at the food synthesizer. "So can this thing do popcorn? We should make a batch. Read some books. And just enjoy the evening."

That sounds like a great idea to Jim. "It sure can. It can do different flavors, too. I'm a fan of garlic parmesan."

"I adore extra buttered." He smiles. It is a good feeling to feel so excited about such a simple thing.

Jim hasn't had much time for the simpler pleasures of life lately either. A few button presses later, and he has a heaping bowl of popcorn for each of them. "Extra buttered, there ya go."

"I have to admit, it is weird not to hear the popping sound of the kernels." Hunter chuckles lightly.

"Maybe next time, we'll do it the old-fashioned way," Jim says, giving him a lightly amused look. "This is farm country; getting real popcorn won't be hard."

([ooc: Off-topic but I just got back from Wonder Woman and it is SO GOOD! Made me cry.]

"I would be more than happy to bring over my popcorn machine."

[[no spoilers! But I am glad that it was good!

Jim gives him a funny look as he sets his bowl of popcorn down on the low table in the living room, ready to make his reading selection from the new additions to his collection. "You have a dedicated machine for that?"

[I know, no spoilers! :P But I definitely encourage everyone to go see it.]

"There are a few options for those who want to make their own popcorn. Some people can do it in a frying pan."

"Others go out and buy a machine. Some are hot air poppers. Some are oil based."

"I have a hot air machine."

Jim shakes his head a little. The idea of an appliance with one single use is kind of funny to him, in an old fashioned kind of way. "Sounds quaint. I'm sure we can rig up some kind of power converter for it."

"That would be great. I think you would enjoy the air-popped corn."

"I've had it done over a campfire before, but it gets messy real fast," Jim says, retreating upstairs momentarily to grab his chosen book. He already knows which one he wants, so he's only gone for a moment.

Hunter waits until Jim comes back downstairs, to ask him a question. "What other campfire goodies have you made? Smores? Bush pies?"

Jim frowns slightly, taking a seat on the couch, resting his book in his lap. It's one of the volumes of poetry, one of Emily Dickinson's. "I've had s'mores and hobo packs, but I've never heard of the other thing."

"You take pie filling, and put it in between two slices of bread, then fry it up over the fire."

"Guess I missed out on that. How about you?" It occurs to Jim that these particular memories are ones he made with his brother, before Sam ran away. And he has no idea if Hunter has any siblings. "You have any brothers or sisters who made this stuff with you?"

"I got to do all of it, when I spent the weekend at our lake house with my friend Lindy." Hunter remembered, with a fond smile.

"No. I'm an only child."

Jim shoves a handful of popcorn into his mouth, partly to try to make this a little less awkward. It's still hard sometimes, thinking about Sam. "Did you ever wish you weren't?"

Hunter tilts his head, thinking on that question for a moment. "That is hard to say..."

"I don't know if my father would have been harder on me... or easier on me... if I had a brother or sister."

Jim nods a little. He can understand that. "I don't know where my brother is these days," he admits. "He ran away from home a couple of weeks before I drove the car into the quarry. I got a few messages from him after, but that's all I've heard from him since."

"I had wondered what happened to him..." Hunter had not known how to ask. And he treads gently, since he senses this might be a sensitive subject.

"He ran away, for the same reason you drove that car into the quarry?"

He nods again. "Frank. Our step-dad." Jim has mentioned him to Hunter once before, the man who dared think that he could sell George Kirk's antique car as his own. "I got all the attention for being the Kelvin baby, but Sam had to share our dad's name. One of the last things he said to me was that it's impossible to be a Kirk in this house."

"When did you change your last name to Kirk?" Hunter asked.

"Officially, I've always been a Kirk. Wasn't much point in taking Frank's last name; everyone knew who we were anyway." Jim shakes his head a little. "Mom wasn't married to him very long, anyway. Only a couple years. But it was enough, on top of everything else."

"I must have misunderstood."

But this seems like a good time to bring up information about Hunter's own name. "I recently legally changed my name to Hunter. It isn't the name I was born with. But it is the name I have been using, since my appearance was changed."

Jim tries to figure out what he might've said that would be misleading, and comes up with one good candidate. "Sam's legal name is George Samuel Kirk Junior. Everyone calls him Sam because it's... easier." For his mom, for Sam, for everyone.

He listens as Hunter speaks, passing no judgment, never reacting like Hunter's been lying to him about his identity or anything like that. "Because you feel like a different person now?" he guesses.

"Ah. I didn't get that connection."

"At first, it was because I didn't want anyone to know that I was me. So I used it as a pseudonym. But as I got to find myself and accept myself... it became my new identity. My new self."

Jim smiles slightly in apology. "Sometimes I forget you don't know this stuff. Too used to everyone knowing my family's business."

That strikes a chord in Jim, but he can't admit to it, not without breaking the confidentiality that he's still legally bound by. "Why'd you pick Hunter?" he asks instead.

"After the great Hunter in the sky. Orion." He tells Jim.

"I saw, as in a dream sublime, The balance in the hand of Time. O'er East and West its beam impended; And day, with all its hours of light, Was slowly sinking out of sight, While, opposite, the scale of night. Silently with the stars ascended." He quotes the poem from Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

"It was the stars of his belt that shone the brightest the night I was changed."

He munches on another small handful of popcorn as he listens. "Was it a kind of... omen, or something?" He's still trying to understand the whole magic thing, and it's hard to know what's real and what's nonsense without asking first.

"I never really questioned it, myself." Hunter shrugs his shoulders. He has been eating his popcorn kernel by kernel.

"But I decided the next day to call myself Hunter."

[bed]

Jim isn't going to ask what Hunter's name was before. If Hunter wants him to know, he'll say so. If not, then it's none of Jim's business. "I think it fits you."

"Thank you." Hunter smiles softly. He reaches over to squeeze Jim's hand lightly. For him, there is no real point in mentioning his old name. It would be like bringing up a stranger, right now.

Jim smiles at him, giving his hand a small squeeze. "Names are kind of weird, if you think about it. Most people don't pick their own, like you did; it's something our parents decided for us before they even knew who we were, but most people's identities are so tied with their names that it's hard to imagine being called anything else."

"That is a good point." Hunter smiles. Right now, this moment feels a lot like a date in a fashion. Sharing information about each other. Just spending time with each other.

"Usually there is a story tied into the name chosen too. Why did your parents want to name you James?"

"My maternal grandfather was called Jim," he explains. "My middle name's from my other grandpa, Tiberius. That was almost my first name, but Dad thought it was terrible."

"Tiberius." Hunter chuckles slightly. "You are definitely more of a James, than a Tiberius."

Jim doesn't really share his dad's opinion of the name's merit. He's always been proud to introduce himself by full name, because honestly, how badass does James Tiberius Kirk sound?

"You wanna hear the weird part?" Jim asks, raising his eyebrows. "My parents didn't talk names beforehand, so they had about thirty seconds to name me together. The version of me from Ambassador Spock's timeline ended up with the exact same name, even though his parents didn't have to rush it."

Edited 2017-06-04 21:06 (UTC)

"That is weird. But I guess, the name Captain James T. Kirk was always one that would be entwined into your destiny, and his..."

Despite the somewhat sobering subject, Jim gives him a slightly amused look. "I love that you add 'captain' as part of my name instead of my rank," he teases.

"You will always be a Captain to me." Hunter leans down, so he can place a soft kiss along Jim's knuckles.

With his future in Starfleet uncertain, it's nice to hear. But Jim can't resist another lighthearted, teasing question. "Even if I eventually make it to admiral?"

Hunter smiles, because in a way Jim just implied that Hunter would still be in his life, if and when he was promoted to Admiral.

"I think I could compromise."

"As long as you keep that promise about me getting to see you in your dress uniform."

Jim smiles a little at him, giving him a slightly flirtatious look. "Sure, as long as you promise to get me out of it."

"Oh... that would be my pleasure." Hunter leans over to gently kiss Jim. It is nice to share a simple kiss.

It certainly is. And Jim appreciates that Hunter is here with him, just making sure he doesn't have to be alone.

[looks like a good spot to wrap up :D]

[awesome spot to wrap up. They are so cute.]

[they are. :D What should we do next?]

[I was thinking that the biking across the country scene could be one of those... they did it, but it doesn't need to be RP'ed out. Unless you had other thoughts.

I did have thoughts regarding new Hunter plot. So glad for that.
I thought he did find a Nexus door to Kendra's past. Her people. And he invited Jim along for the adventure.]

[I was thinking it might be fun to play out the road trip as a character-focused thing but I don't have any specific scenes I wanted to do. So we could handwave if you want. They can always go do another bike ride later. ;) The Enterprise is going to be grounded for repairs for months yet so there's lots of time.

I would be up for Hunter plot.

Also, if you want to do stuff with Faris I would be up for that too. I have been neglecting him lately.]

Edited 2017-06-04 22:10 (UTC)

[Maybe save the bike ride then, so we have a just-for-fun thread. I am thinking of a little drama for the Nexus-door thread. Because I am me.

Poor Faris. He is not forgotten!]

[That works for me. There isn't a specific reason why the road trip would have to be next, so we could absolutely do Hunter plot first.

I think Jim would get along with Faris if you want me to bring both of them to the Hunter plot. :) Though it is also a little funny to me that I keep playing both characters that I want to have meet sometimes. *coughJackHarknesscough*]

[Awesome. I am just finishing up some work related stuff, then I get post something on Hunter's journal.

Faris would be more than welcome to come along. By the way Jim, have you met my living tattoo... lol

*coughIwantthistoocough*]

[Awesome. :D

I would be so happy to do both Faris and Jim!

Hahaha it's almost too bad Jack is dating Ianto and trying to be monogamous for his boyfriend's sake, or I would guarantee that if Jim and Jack meet, they'd suggest a threesome with Hunter.]

[And Hunter would have been very flattered. Curious. And willing.

Just his luck.]

Thread is up

I am going off the assumption that Faris found the door back to his universe, so he is not living with Hunter anymore. But Hunter is still a back-up host when Faris is visiting to the Nexus.

[That's fair. It's certainly been long enough that Schön should've been able to help him out by now.]

Big Reveals [for losthunter]

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