James Tiberius Kirk (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
boldygoing) wrote2020-12-05 02:10 pm
boldygoing) wrote2020-12-05 02:10 pm
Chag urim sameach
Another year.
Even when you record the exact stardate for every log you make, there's something about the impersonal, cold numbers that still makes time blend together. Without the changing of seasons, that smell of drying corn and frost on the air, there's little to mark the passage of time in a way that really sinks into your bones and tells you that today is any different from yesterday.
That's why it's all the more important to seize those little moments as they come along, ways to make the day feel more special.
It's not the first time that Jim has smuggled his boyfriend onto the Enterprise, not by a long shot. By now he knows the precautions well, locking the door and making sure his schedule is cleared for the evening. Zunar, now fully grown and fluffy as ever, lies draped across the neatly-made bed while the kneazle watches his human at work finishing up the last few tasks at his desk. The rest of his quarters are softly lit, the low table in the open area laid out with covered trays, a bottle of wine in a bucket of ice with a pair of glasses, and an unlit menorah. Outside the small window above his bed, the stars shine through the black as they always have, wrapped in the gentle blue glow of low warp.
Even when you record the exact stardate for every log you make, there's something about the impersonal, cold numbers that still makes time blend together. Without the changing of seasons, that smell of drying corn and frost on the air, there's little to mark the passage of time in a way that really sinks into your bones and tells you that today is any different from yesterday.
That's why it's all the more important to seize those little moments as they come along, ways to make the day feel more special.
It's not the first time that Jim has smuggled his boyfriend onto the Enterprise, not by a long shot. By now he knows the precautions well, locking the door and making sure his schedule is cleared for the evening. Zunar, now fully grown and fluffy as ever, lies draped across the neatly-made bed while the kneazle watches his human at work finishing up the last few tasks at his desk. The rest of his quarters are softly lit, the low table in the open area laid out with covered trays, a bottle of wine in a bucket of ice with a pair of glasses, and an unlit menorah. Outside the small window above his bed, the stars shine through the black as they always have, wrapped in the gentle blue glow of low warp.
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"Having a chance to expand my education, and in something that wouldn't be offered on my world, is exciting to me. Thinking about the fact that I might be able to use my knowledge to explore new worlds is even more exciting."
"But most of all... I like the thought that I might have the chance to serve with you. On the same ship."
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Even now, locked in his quarters in the only private space he holds to himself, there is a part of Jim that stays prepared for a summons to the bridge. It isn't that he doesn't trust the crew, or that they're not competent in their jobs - but he is the captain, on his own time or not.
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Jim's smile doesn't waver. "Probably not. I thought I knew what it was going to be like, and for the most part, I think I wasn't that far off." He hadn't forseen how... samey things would come to feel, though. He's not burnt out, not really, but three years of space travel is somehow more rigorous than he'd expected.
He loves space. He always has. But it's lost a bit of its shine, and he's not quite sure where it's gone.
But he doesn't want Hunter to worry, either. This mission is unprecedented in its scale, and who knows whether Starfleet will want to send them out for another? Just the fleet psychologists alone are probably going to have a field day already with five years of crew records. And that's assuming they make it back in one piece.
Maybe nothing will happen. But with his birthday coming up - his thirtieth, at that - Jim can't help but dwell on the what-ifs, and on captains who never come home.
"Why don't you borrow Zunar for a week or two?" he suggests casually. "I can't take him on shore leave with me, and I'm sure he'd appreciate getting to stretch his legs a bit. It'll keep him from trying to escape into the Jefferies tubes for a while, too," Jim adds with a chuckle.
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"I hope you are doing okay. Considering that more weight is on your shoulders... than anyone else." Hunter understands a little bit more about the demands of a Captain after attending the Academy.
"I would love that. What do you think Zunar? Hmmmmm?" He bops the Kneazle's nose with a little affection.
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Zunar's purrs just get louder, rubbing his nose against Hunter's finger in search of more pets. The kneazle does not like leaving his master, but there is only so long an intelligent and mischievous cat is content with the captain's quarters, no matter how spacious.
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Hunter chuckles at Zunar's purring. And scratches his nose lightly.
"I will keep an eye on Zunar for you."
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Which happens more often than he'd like to admit.
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Flirting. Normal. Everything is normal, and this is just another holiday dinner.
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"Consider yourself asked."