Grace Cathedral Hill (A Kirk/McCoy Fic)
Title: Grace Cathedral Hill
Fandom: ST - XI
C/P: Kirk/McCoy
Summary: They paid .25 credits to light a little white candle.
Notes: Thank you, Decemberists.
The setting sun flickered off the glass sides of the high-rise apartment complexes and the sky-scraping office buildings, its light filtering down to wrap around Grace Cathedral. The ancient building, dwarfed by the glass giants that surrounded it, seemed to glow in the sunlight.
Jim grabbed Leonard’s hand and pulled the grumbling man through the doors of the church, eyes wide as he gazed at the particles of dust falling slowly through shafts of light. The sound of their footsteps echoed off the stone floor, reverberating in the massive chamber.
“Bones…” he murmured, “It’s exactly the same. Everything else grows and changes, but… not here.”
Leonard smiled and dropped Jim’s hand, walking slowly around the pews to the candelabras that sat, quiet and still, in a corner of the church. Jim followed, watching as Leonard rummaged in his pocket and then slipped a credit chip into the dispenser. A little white candle shimmered into being within the replicator. Leonard handed it to Jim.
“For a New Year’s day.”
They sat and watched it burn until there was nothing left but a dish of melted wax. The two of them stood, turning and weaving their way back through the moribund temple from a time long past.
Outside, Jim took a deep breath, filling his lungs with air not tainted with slow decay. Leonard peered through the blinding brightness of the sunset, then nudged Jim, pointing at a hotdog vendor who had parked his cart down the street.
“You hungry?”
“Yeah.”
They ordered their dogs and paid the man, eating as they walked down to Hyde Street Pier. The sun had slipped below the horizon, the brilliant light having disappeared. They passed a bar where men and women were celebrating raucously. The smell of frying fish and cheap beer clung to their coats as they continued down the pier.
“You hear that?”
The sound of the national anthem, a song long defunct, floated through the air. The trumpet notes blared in their ears as the ambled along. They made their way back to where Jim had parked the motorbike, chatting aimlessly as they walked. The air hung low, salty with moisture.
They mounted the bike, Leonard sitting quietly behind Jim as the younger man revved the engine. As they were pulling away from the curb, Leonard looked up at the towering buildings, the city lights blinding him.
“Are you feeling better now?”
“…Yeah.”
A/N: Not quite how I wanted it to be, but whatever. I hope someone enjoys it.
Fandom: ST - XI
C/P: Kirk/McCoy
Summary: They paid .25 credits to light a little white candle.
Notes: Thank you, Decemberists.
The setting sun flickered off the glass sides of the high-rise apartment complexes and the sky-scraping office buildings, its light filtering down to wrap around Grace Cathedral. The ancient building, dwarfed by the glass giants that surrounded it, seemed to glow in the sunlight.
Jim grabbed Leonard’s hand and pulled the grumbling man through the doors of the church, eyes wide as he gazed at the particles of dust falling slowly through shafts of light. The sound of their footsteps echoed off the stone floor, reverberating in the massive chamber.
“Bones…” he murmured, “It’s exactly the same. Everything else grows and changes, but… not here.”
Leonard smiled and dropped Jim’s hand, walking slowly around the pews to the candelabras that sat, quiet and still, in a corner of the church. Jim followed, watching as Leonard rummaged in his pocket and then slipped a credit chip into the dispenser. A little white candle shimmered into being within the replicator. Leonard handed it to Jim.
“For a New Year’s day.”
They sat and watched it burn until there was nothing left but a dish of melted wax. The two of them stood, turning and weaving their way back through the moribund temple from a time long past.
Outside, Jim took a deep breath, filling his lungs with air not tainted with slow decay. Leonard peered through the blinding brightness of the sunset, then nudged Jim, pointing at a hotdog vendor who had parked his cart down the street.
“You hungry?”
“Yeah.”
They ordered their dogs and paid the man, eating as they walked down to Hyde Street Pier. The sun had slipped below the horizon, the brilliant light having disappeared. They passed a bar where men and women were celebrating raucously. The smell of frying fish and cheap beer clung to their coats as they continued down the pier.
“You hear that?”
The sound of the national anthem, a song long defunct, floated through the air. The trumpet notes blared in their ears as the ambled along. They made their way back to where Jim had parked the motorbike, chatting aimlessly as they walked. The air hung low, salty with moisture.
They mounted the bike, Leonard sitting quietly behind Jim as the younger man revved the engine. As they were pulling away from the curb, Leonard looked up at the towering buildings, the city lights blinding him.
“Are you feeling better now?”
“…Yeah.”
A/N: Not quite how I wanted it to be, but whatever. I hope someone enjoys it.