Fic: Something More, Kirk/Uhura, R
Something More, Chapter Two
Author: emn1936
Pairing: Kirk/Uhura
Rating: R
Summary: She had come to reach a hard-earned respect for her commanding officer in the three months since they had been assigned to the Enterprise.
Chapter Two
Uhura had no idea how long she watched him in morbid curiosity but she was startled back into awareness when he suddenly stumbled, breaking his rhythm. His hands flew out to grasp the rails on either side of him before he managed to right himself and settle back into his stride. But Uhura was aware now of the raggedness of his breathing and the flush of color riding high on his cheeks. And she was compelled to interfere.
“Computer,” she called out as she strode across the room. “Begin cool-down.” Kirk’s head snapped up as, immediately, the revolutions of the tread beneath his feet began to slow.
“Uhura!” he gasped. “Is there something you need?” Assuming she had come to discuss something with him, his pace obediently followed as the machine shifted into a slow jog and then a walk designed to bring his heartbeat back to normal.
“I think you’ve had enough exercise for the evening… Captain.”
Kirk recognized the biting edge to her voice. It was the same sarcastic tone he heard every time she thought he was doing something stupid.
He came to an abrupt standstill and shot an icy glance her way.
“I don’t really think that’s your decision to make, Lieutenant.” He injected a note of authority into his voice and they engaged in a staring contest of sorts for several seconds before Kirk flicked his eyes away from her dismissively and broke the silence.
“Computer. Resume workout program number…”
“Computer!” Uhura raised her voice to be heard over his.
“Lieutenant!” Anger vibrated in his voice. “I am ordering you to -”
“Sir,” she interrupted. “Respectfully…” She stepped closer and lifted her gaze to his, noting the still rapid heaving of his chest. “You’ve had enough tonight.”
Again, they spent long moments staring at one another, neither wanting to back down.
Uhura picked up a towel and held it out to him.
“Please.”
Finally, Kirk acceded. With a small jerk of his chin, he took the towel from her. As he stepped off the treadmill, Uhura pretended not to notice that he did so on dangerously wobbly legs.
He grabbed a bottle of water from his pile of belongings and sank down onto the padded seat of one of the pieces of exercise equipment spread around the room. He draped the towel around his neck and poured some of the water onto his head before tipping the bottle to his mouth and gulping down the rest of the contents.
Uhura was startled to find herself oddly fascinated by the workings of the strong muscles of his throat as he guzzled the cool water. When the bottle was empty, he propped it on the floor next to his feet. Using one end of the towel, he mopped his face.
He took note of her attire, the cover-up and brightly-colored sandals on her feet. “You’re obviously not here for a workout.” His lips quirked in his trademark smirk but Uhura noted that it was done with some effort.
“No,” she said. “No workout for me, tonight.”
An awkward silence fell over them. Kirk squirmed uncomfortably under her probing gaze.
“Listen,” he sighed. “I don’t want to keep you from your plans.” He gestured towards the door leading to the pool area. He held up his right hand as if taking a solemn oath. “I promise. No more treadmill tonight.”
Uhura debated doing as he suggested, but found herself settling down on the seat of a nearby weight bench instead.
“So,” she asked, “what I want to know is what has you up so late.”
Kirk merely raised a brow in what Uhura had to acknowledge was a fair imitation of Spock’s habitual quirk.
“What has you up so late?” he countered.
Uhura suppressed a smile at his deflection and simply stayed the course, staring at him with quiet patience.
Kirk, a young man who never was - and never would be known for his patience - cracked first.
“Just busy.” He lifted his gym bag from the floor, drew out another bottle of water and held it out to her with a questioning look.
“No, thanks.” She shook her head and gestured with one hand for him to continue speaking. “You were saying?”
Kirk flipped the lid of the bottle open and took a long sip.
“Busy,” he repeated, gesturing to the stack of reports piled behind him.
She shrugged carelessly. “We’re all busy,” she countered, wanting to goad him into really answering her query. “We all have reports to prepare and review.”
His eyes widened and he looked at her with an incredulous expression.
“Yeah, and every report written by the department heads eventually makes its way onto my desk and I have to read them all and sign off on them.”
Uhura wasn’t sure why she kept pushing, why she didn’t just leave him and go about her original plans. She wasn’t even sure that she liked him. No, she thought. That wasn’t entirely true either. He was charming and charismatic; much more intelligent than she had originally given him credit for; brave to the point of recklessness at times and undoubtedly handsome. And though on the surface she resisted and seemed immune, she oftentimes found herself unwillingly drawn into his orbit.
And while part of her just wanted to walk away, the memory of the pained expression she’d witnessed on his face would not leave her mind’s eye. She couldn’t seem to let go until she found out its cause, even if she had to bully it out of him.
Uhura shrugged again. “I’m sure most starship captains trust their senior officers and sign off on the reports without feeling the need to read every word, dot every “I” and cross every “T”. She bathed her tone in sarcasm. Jim Kirk was known for his hair-trigger temper and she was trying to provoke him into losing a bit of the uncharacteristic control he was exerting. Being a good xenolinguistics expert meant a lot more than just an excellent grasp of languages. The study of her craft had included hours of psychology classes as well as learning to pick up subtle cues from a subject’s body language. Right now, Kirk’s defensive posture had completely captured her attention. She often found his cocky attitude to be irritating but this tightly wound version of the man was disquieting.
“I’m not other captains!” he exclaimed.
“What are you then?”
Kirk shoved an agitated hand through his damp hair. “What do you want, Uhura?” he asked. “Why are you bugging me about this?”
She drew her feet up onto the bench and rested her chin on her knees. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Right now I want to know how you’re different from other starship captains.”
“I’m the youngest captain in Starfleet history.”
“We’re all young,” she countered dismissively. “Collectively, we’re the youngest crew in Starfleet history.”
Kirk tipped his head back and let out a tired-sounding sigh. “You just don’t understand,” he muttered. “I have no margin for error. I can’t make another mistake.”
“No one is perfect. Why do you think you have to be?” She held out a hand and he passed her the bottle of water. She took a quick sip. “Half the crew is as young, or younger, than you and no one is demanding more than that we do jobs to the best of our abilities.”
“My father was perfect.”
“No one is perfect,” she repeated.
“A man who gives up his life for his crew, a man who dies heroically… that man is remembered as being perfect,” he told her.
“And because you’re a hero’s son, you’re also supposed to be perfect?”
Kirk dropped his chin against his chest. “Because I’m his son… because soon I’ll have lived a longer life than he did, I’m supposed to be everything he was and more.” He lifted his gaze and she was struck by the wounded look in his normally merry eyes.
“I’ve never measured up. I gave up trying a long time ago,” he admitted.
At that moment, she understood the demons that drove James T. Kirk.
“I don’t believe that,” she argued. “If you had given up a long time ago, you would still be brawling in a bar in Iowa.
Kirk rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Pike,” he muttered.
“What about him?”
“Nothing. It’s stupid.” He closed his eyes in memory of his first meeting with Christopher Pike.
“He challenged me and one of my many faults is an apparent inability to turn down a dare.”
Uhura’s lips quirked upward in a slight smile. “What did he dare you to do?”
Kirk lay back so that he was stretched out on the padded seat and flung an arm over his eyes.
“He reminded me that my father was captain for only minutes and that he managed to save eight hundred lives in that short time. And then he dared me to join Starfleet and do better.” His smile was a twisted parody of the generous grin that normally wreathed his face.
“Even my mentor expects me to beat perfection,” he snorted.
He dropped his arm and rolled his head to look at her. Uhura felt a tightening in her chest as she witnessed the torment on his face.
“How does anyone measure up to that kind of expectation?” he asked miserably.
Uhura shook her head. “I don’t know,” she admitted softly. “It’s a tall order.”
She stood. “What I do know is that you’re exhausted and that everything looks its worst when you’re so tired you can’t think straight,” she said noting the shadows that looked like bruises under his eyes. She extended one hand in a silent offer to help him to his feet. “It’s really late now. Why don’t you head back to your quarters and rest? Things will look better in the morning.”
A ghost of a smile crossed his face. “Ah… clichés.” He pushed himself back into a seated position. “You go ahead, Uhura. I’ve taken up enough of your time and I still have a couple of hours of work to do.”
Uhura stood her ground and stubbornly continued to hold out her hand.
“You look kind of beat up from running your marathon.” She jerked her head toward the now silent treadmill. “Your legs are probably still wobbly,” she noted. “I’m pretty sure I could force you…” She waggled her fingers imperiously.
“Come on.”
Kirk released a long, shuddering breath and reached for his things. He pulled a t-shirt over his head and began to stuff the rest of his belongings, including the stack of PADDs into his bag. Uhura stood patiently, some tiny part of her taking note of how the worn cotton of his shirt clung lovingly to him, outlining his lean and lightly muscled form.
She wiggled her fingers again and Kirk put his hand into hers, allowing her to tug him to his feet. He slung his bag over his shoulder and reached down for her bag with the other hand. Their walk back towards the living quarters of the Enterprise was silent and they reached her door first.
Uhura plugged in the code to release the door lock, then turned to look up at him.
“Tomorrow’s supposed to be a quiet day isn’t it?” she prompted.
“Yeah, we won’t reach the star base for another three days.”
She tapped a finger against the gym bag slung over his shoulder. “Then why don’t you bring those reports with you to the bridge in the morning and work on them there?” she suggested. “You don’t have to finish them tonight.”
“You’re the captain, remember? You get to make the rules now.” She smiled mischievously, pleased when she managed to wring a wry grin from him.
“Oh, yeah… I knew there was something cool about this job.”
She laid a gentle hand on his forearm. “Get some sleep, Captain. That’s an order.”
Kirk tapped two fingers to his forehead in a mock salute.
“I’ll see you in the morning, Lieutenant.”
“Yes, sir. 0700.”
She stepped into her darkened room and let the doors slide closed behind her. She felt like she had just met James T. Kirk for the very first time. Who was the real Kirk, she wondered. Was it the boy playing at being a man whom she had met three years ago? Or was it the man she now suspected had never had a chance to be a boy whom she had met tonight?
She wanted to know something…. something more.
*********
Author: emn1936
Pairing: Kirk/Uhura
Rating: R
Summary: She had come to reach a hard-earned respect for her commanding officer in the three months since they had been assigned to the Enterprise.
Chapter Two
Uhura had no idea how long she watched him in morbid curiosity but she was startled back into awareness when he suddenly stumbled, breaking his rhythm. His hands flew out to grasp the rails on either side of him before he managed to right himself and settle back into his stride. But Uhura was aware now of the raggedness of his breathing and the flush of color riding high on his cheeks. And she was compelled to interfere.
“Computer,” she called out as she strode across the room. “Begin cool-down.” Kirk’s head snapped up as, immediately, the revolutions of the tread beneath his feet began to slow.
“Uhura!” he gasped. “Is there something you need?” Assuming she had come to discuss something with him, his pace obediently followed as the machine shifted into a slow jog and then a walk designed to bring his heartbeat back to normal.
“I think you’ve had enough exercise for the evening… Captain.”
Kirk recognized the biting edge to her voice. It was the same sarcastic tone he heard every time she thought he was doing something stupid.
He came to an abrupt standstill and shot an icy glance her way.
“I don’t really think that’s your decision to make, Lieutenant.” He injected a note of authority into his voice and they engaged in a staring contest of sorts for several seconds before Kirk flicked his eyes away from her dismissively and broke the silence.
“Computer. Resume workout program number…”
“Computer!” Uhura raised her voice to be heard over his.
“Lieutenant!” Anger vibrated in his voice. “I am ordering you to -”
“Sir,” she interrupted. “Respectfully…” She stepped closer and lifted her gaze to his, noting the still rapid heaving of his chest. “You’ve had enough tonight.”
Again, they spent long moments staring at one another, neither wanting to back down.
Uhura picked up a towel and held it out to him.
“Please.”
Finally, Kirk acceded. With a small jerk of his chin, he took the towel from her. As he stepped off the treadmill, Uhura pretended not to notice that he did so on dangerously wobbly legs.
He grabbed a bottle of water from his pile of belongings and sank down onto the padded seat of one of the pieces of exercise equipment spread around the room. He draped the towel around his neck and poured some of the water onto his head before tipping the bottle to his mouth and gulping down the rest of the contents.
Uhura was startled to find herself oddly fascinated by the workings of the strong muscles of his throat as he guzzled the cool water. When the bottle was empty, he propped it on the floor next to his feet. Using one end of the towel, he mopped his face.
He took note of her attire, the cover-up and brightly-colored sandals on her feet. “You’re obviously not here for a workout.” His lips quirked in his trademark smirk but Uhura noted that it was done with some effort.
“No,” she said. “No workout for me, tonight.”
An awkward silence fell over them. Kirk squirmed uncomfortably under her probing gaze.
“Listen,” he sighed. “I don’t want to keep you from your plans.” He gestured towards the door leading to the pool area. He held up his right hand as if taking a solemn oath. “I promise. No more treadmill tonight.”
Uhura debated doing as he suggested, but found herself settling down on the seat of a nearby weight bench instead.
“So,” she asked, “what I want to know is what has you up so late.”
Kirk merely raised a brow in what Uhura had to acknowledge was a fair imitation of Spock’s habitual quirk.
“What has you up so late?” he countered.
Uhura suppressed a smile at his deflection and simply stayed the course, staring at him with quiet patience.
Kirk, a young man who never was - and never would be known for his patience - cracked first.
“Just busy.” He lifted his gym bag from the floor, drew out another bottle of water and held it out to her with a questioning look.
“No, thanks.” She shook her head and gestured with one hand for him to continue speaking. “You were saying?”
Kirk flipped the lid of the bottle open and took a long sip.
“Busy,” he repeated, gesturing to the stack of reports piled behind him.
She shrugged carelessly. “We’re all busy,” she countered, wanting to goad him into really answering her query. “We all have reports to prepare and review.”
His eyes widened and he looked at her with an incredulous expression.
“Yeah, and every report written by the department heads eventually makes its way onto my desk and I have to read them all and sign off on them.”
Uhura wasn’t sure why she kept pushing, why she didn’t just leave him and go about her original plans. She wasn’t even sure that she liked him. No, she thought. That wasn’t entirely true either. He was charming and charismatic; much more intelligent than she had originally given him credit for; brave to the point of recklessness at times and undoubtedly handsome. And though on the surface she resisted and seemed immune, she oftentimes found herself unwillingly drawn into his orbit.
And while part of her just wanted to walk away, the memory of the pained expression she’d witnessed on his face would not leave her mind’s eye. She couldn’t seem to let go until she found out its cause, even if she had to bully it out of him.
Uhura shrugged again. “I’m sure most starship captains trust their senior officers and sign off on the reports without feeling the need to read every word, dot every “I” and cross every “T”. She bathed her tone in sarcasm. Jim Kirk was known for his hair-trigger temper and she was trying to provoke him into losing a bit of the uncharacteristic control he was exerting. Being a good xenolinguistics expert meant a lot more than just an excellent grasp of languages. The study of her craft had included hours of psychology classes as well as learning to pick up subtle cues from a subject’s body language. Right now, Kirk’s defensive posture had completely captured her attention. She often found his cocky attitude to be irritating but this tightly wound version of the man was disquieting.
“I’m not other captains!” he exclaimed.
“What are you then?”
Kirk shoved an agitated hand through his damp hair. “What do you want, Uhura?” he asked. “Why are you bugging me about this?”
She drew her feet up onto the bench and rested her chin on her knees. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Right now I want to know how you’re different from other starship captains.”
“I’m the youngest captain in Starfleet history.”
“We’re all young,” she countered dismissively. “Collectively, we’re the youngest crew in Starfleet history.”
Kirk tipped his head back and let out a tired-sounding sigh. “You just don’t understand,” he muttered. “I have no margin for error. I can’t make another mistake.”
“No one is perfect. Why do you think you have to be?” She held out a hand and he passed her the bottle of water. She took a quick sip. “Half the crew is as young, or younger, than you and no one is demanding more than that we do jobs to the best of our abilities.”
“My father was perfect.”
“No one is perfect,” she repeated.
“A man who gives up his life for his crew, a man who dies heroically… that man is remembered as being perfect,” he told her.
“And because you’re a hero’s son, you’re also supposed to be perfect?”
Kirk dropped his chin against his chest. “Because I’m his son… because soon I’ll have lived a longer life than he did, I’m supposed to be everything he was and more.” He lifted his gaze and she was struck by the wounded look in his normally merry eyes.
“I’ve never measured up. I gave up trying a long time ago,” he admitted.
At that moment, she understood the demons that drove James T. Kirk.
“I don’t believe that,” she argued. “If you had given up a long time ago, you would still be brawling in a bar in Iowa.
Kirk rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Pike,” he muttered.
“What about him?”
“Nothing. It’s stupid.” He closed his eyes in memory of his first meeting with Christopher Pike.
“He challenged me and one of my many faults is an apparent inability to turn down a dare.”
Uhura’s lips quirked upward in a slight smile. “What did he dare you to do?”
Kirk lay back so that he was stretched out on the padded seat and flung an arm over his eyes.
“He reminded me that my father was captain for only minutes and that he managed to save eight hundred lives in that short time. And then he dared me to join Starfleet and do better.” His smile was a twisted parody of the generous grin that normally wreathed his face.
“Even my mentor expects me to beat perfection,” he snorted.
He dropped his arm and rolled his head to look at her. Uhura felt a tightening in her chest as she witnessed the torment on his face.
“How does anyone measure up to that kind of expectation?” he asked miserably.
Uhura shook her head. “I don’t know,” she admitted softly. “It’s a tall order.”
She stood. “What I do know is that you’re exhausted and that everything looks its worst when you’re so tired you can’t think straight,” she said noting the shadows that looked like bruises under his eyes. She extended one hand in a silent offer to help him to his feet. “It’s really late now. Why don’t you head back to your quarters and rest? Things will look better in the morning.”
A ghost of a smile crossed his face. “Ah… clichés.” He pushed himself back into a seated position. “You go ahead, Uhura. I’ve taken up enough of your time and I still have a couple of hours of work to do.”
Uhura stood her ground and stubbornly continued to hold out her hand.
“You look kind of beat up from running your marathon.” She jerked her head toward the now silent treadmill. “Your legs are probably still wobbly,” she noted. “I’m pretty sure I could force you…” She waggled her fingers imperiously.
“Come on.”
Kirk released a long, shuddering breath and reached for his things. He pulled a t-shirt over his head and began to stuff the rest of his belongings, including the stack of PADDs into his bag. Uhura stood patiently, some tiny part of her taking note of how the worn cotton of his shirt clung lovingly to him, outlining his lean and lightly muscled form.
She wiggled her fingers again and Kirk put his hand into hers, allowing her to tug him to his feet. He slung his bag over his shoulder and reached down for her bag with the other hand. Their walk back towards the living quarters of the Enterprise was silent and they reached her door first.
Uhura plugged in the code to release the door lock, then turned to look up at him.
“Tomorrow’s supposed to be a quiet day isn’t it?” she prompted.
“Yeah, we won’t reach the star base for another three days.”
She tapped a finger against the gym bag slung over his shoulder. “Then why don’t you bring those reports with you to the bridge in the morning and work on them there?” she suggested. “You don’t have to finish them tonight.”
“You’re the captain, remember? You get to make the rules now.” She smiled mischievously, pleased when she managed to wring a wry grin from him.
“Oh, yeah… I knew there was something cool about this job.”
She laid a gentle hand on his forearm. “Get some sleep, Captain. That’s an order.”
Kirk tapped two fingers to his forehead in a mock salute.
“I’ll see you in the morning, Lieutenant.”
“Yes, sir. 0700.”
She stepped into her darkened room and let the doors slide closed behind her. She felt like she had just met James T. Kirk for the very first time. Who was the real Kirk, she wondered. Was it the boy playing at being a man whom she had met three years ago? Or was it the man she now suspected had never had a chance to be a boy whom she had met tonight?
She wanted to know something…. something more.
*********