100 Things - Story #2 Dean Winchester/Hikaru Sulu (worksafe)
Dean and Hikaru meet for the first time on one of the worst days of Dean's life. He's stuck in the crash webbing of the transport shuttle, splattered with the blood of the dead man beside him who folded in half under the weight of a ripped support beam. Dean's a medic and Hikaru's Starfleet, and they both know what it says about him when Dean has to stitch up his arm the old fashioned way and Hikaru thanks him for it.
"Heading home, Starfleet?" Dear offers him a sip of whiskey from a flash in his jacket, and smiles a little when he's not outright reprimanded for it.
"No," Hikaru answered easily. He tipped the flask back and then returned it. He's flushed, but still handsome in the flash of emergency lighting, and Dean takes the momentary distraction gladly, instead of worrying about the way the transport shuttle has gone silent and still. "Just back to Earth for my sister's wedding."
Dean tucks the flask away and knows, instinctively understands, the kind of man Hikaru must be. "Which is your girl?"
"The Enterprise." Hikaru smiles, and for the first time, Dean lets himself entertain the idea that maybe, with a whole lot of luck, they just might make it back to Earth alive. As if he can hear the glimmer of hope taking hold, Hikaru elaborated with, "I'm her pilot."
Dean slapped a bandage over the stitches and raked a hand through his hair. "Well, can you pilot us out of here, hotshot?"
Instead of bristling and defending his honor or some shit, like Dean had been expecting, Hikaru surprised him with a short, pleasant-sounding laugh. "I'll see what I can do," he said. Hikaru hauled himself to his feet, and then ventured out into the haze of smoking consoles and low lighting. "You coming?"
"Heading home, Starfleet?" Dear offers him a sip of whiskey from a flash in his jacket, and smiles a little when he's not outright reprimanded for it.
"No," Hikaru answered easily. He tipped the flask back and then returned it. He's flushed, but still handsome in the flash of emergency lighting, and Dean takes the momentary distraction gladly, instead of worrying about the way the transport shuttle has gone silent and still. "Just back to Earth for my sister's wedding."
Dean tucks the flask away and knows, instinctively understands, the kind of man Hikaru must be. "Which is your girl?"
"The Enterprise." Hikaru smiles, and for the first time, Dean lets himself entertain the idea that maybe, with a whole lot of luck, they just might make it back to Earth alive. As if he can hear the glimmer of hope taking hold, Hikaru elaborated with, "I'm her pilot."
Dean slapped a bandage over the stitches and raked a hand through his hair. "Well, can you pilot us out of here, hotshot?"
Instead of bristling and defending his honor or some shit, like Dean had been expecting, Hikaru surprised him with a short, pleasant-sounding laugh. "I'll see what I can do," he said. Hikaru hauled himself to his feet, and then ventured out into the haze of smoking consoles and low lighting. "You coming?"