SHIP OLYMPICS: Triathalon: Team Blonde Ambition
Title: (Let's Give Them) Something to Talk About
Creator(s): fringedweller [fic], jactrades [vid], jactrades and esme_green [fanmix]
Universe: AOS
Word Count: ~3300 [fic]; n/a [vid]; ~3400 (w/ music stuffs), ~3000 (w/o music stuffs) [fanmix]
Rating: PG-13 [fic]; G [vid]; PG-13 [mix]
Summary: Warp engines are fast but rumors move faster-- at least on the Enterprise...
Disclaimer: Characters mentioned are used without permission and are trademarks of CBS/Gene Roddenberry. We do not own them and are simply borrowing for our purposes. Also, any images resembling celebrities are not meant to be liable. Please don't sue.
There were rumours about them, of course. Many, many rumours. But in a closed community of just over one thousand people, most of them young and horny, rumours were to be expected. There were rumours about everybody.
Rumour had McCoy and Chapel doing more than discuss patient care in his private office for months before Christine worked up enough courage to make them true. Now, after what had been dubbed the Unfortunate Incident, the medical staff make sure they knock before heading into McCoy's office. Loudly.
Rumour had Spock and Uhura secretly married during a brief stop at New Vulcan for a supply run, although nobody was actually brave or foolhardy enough to ask either of them about it.
Rumour had Gaila entice Scotty into a Jefferies tube where she seduced him with dirty talk regarding the Heisenburg compensator, although Gaila was fond of making up stories about herself and spreading them around the ship, so nobody knew if that one was true or not. Even after all this time around humans, Gaila still hadn't got the hang of some forms of social interaction. Or she just didn't care, one of the two.
There were rumours about Lieutenant Keenser and his remarkable success with the ladies of the ship. There were rumours about Ensign Chekov pining away for his best friend, Lieutenant Sulu. There were even rumours about Sulu and his sentient plant, Gertrude, but that could have just been Gaila again.
Janice knew that the ship ran on rumours, almost as much as on dilithium, but the ones about her and Jim Kirk were the worst. She wasn't sure which ones she hated more; the ones that assumed that she was a star-struck yeoman who shed her clothes as soon as the ready room door shut, or the ones that made him out to be someone that thought with his dick.
Neither of those things were true.
Not really.
Yes, she'd admit, at first, she may have been a little star-struck at first. He was James T Kirk, for crying out loud, that man that had led the team that saved Earth from destruction. He escaped black holes. He was one of the first people, ever, to be beamed onto a ship moving at warp. He took on psychopathic Romulans single-handedly and managed to save the life of Admiral Pike. And he did this all in one day.
Janice had nightmares thinking about what his weekly schedule would look like.
But when she reported to him for duty, back at Starfleet Command before the Enterprise launched again, he was just a man buried under a pile of paperwork a mile high, and in desperate need of a cup of coffee.
She didn't bring him the coffee, of course; she was a yeoman, first class, not a waitress. He graduated near the top of his class in advanced astrophysics, he could work a damn replicator by himself. But he was so pathetically grateful when she showed up and cut a swath through his paperwork that somehow she forgot to be in awe of him. And then he offered her a place on his staff for the Enterprise's first five year tour, on the basis that he was going to need someone who was better at him at coping with the hundreds of administrative tasks that the flagship of the fleet generated every day and she was the best he had ever worked with.
She forebear to comment that she was the only yeoman he had ever worked with; he had delivered his little speech so sincerely that she was willing to let that slide.
She admired him, of course, but she respected him as well; he pulled off minor miracles at semi-regular intervals and always, always put the well-being of his crew before his own.
And because she liked him, and respected him, she got more than a little annoyed at the way that his crew, the crew that he worked so damned hard to keep alive and healthy, often at his own personal risk, seemed to see him as a walking hormone and judged him accordingly.
In fact, she got damn angry about it.
Yes, their captain enjoyed the company of pretty ladies. And yes, pretty ladies seemed to enjoy his company too. The last time she checked, that wasn't a crime. Hell, on some planets, it was practically a requirement. He didn't force his attentions on the unwilling and if he wasn't exactly a long-term prospect, well, that was how it went when his job was space exploration.
The whole thing just pissed her off, that's all. And as for the rumours about her, well, she knew they were bullshit, and her friends knew they were bullshit. That was all that mattered.
It wasn't as if she had never thought about him in that way, of course; you spend hours every day with a man that gorgeous, that smart, that funny, and you see if you don't get a bit of a crush. But despite the occasional fantasies of rolling around naked on a tropical beach with him, that's all it was, a crush. That's all it ever could be, despite the new Starfleet Code of Interpersonal Conduct that had retroactively legitimised a lot of relationships on board.
Because while people could handle the CMO being bossed around by his Head Nurse in their quarters and in sickbay, and while people would have no problem with the Head of Communications and the First Officer pushing forward the boundaries of inter-species bonding, people would have a problem with the Captain sleeping with any of his crew.
So, that was that. She occasionally dated a few of the men that her friends vetted and pushed in her direction, and even more occasionally, she took some of them to bed. But it never lasted long, and she was never that broken up when it ended. A sensible woman would acknowledge why, and then move on; either transfer away and forget him, take up with one of the agreeable men that turned up from time to time and forget him, or screw her courage to the sticking place and just jump him one afternoon in the Ready Room, rumours be damned.
But Janice wasn't sensible, or the quitting type. The longer she worked with him, the more she looked in favour at jumping him, but something held her back. She just wished that he would give her some kind of sign that he felt the same way, something clear and unambiguous. He flirted gently with her, that's true, but the man had sexual chemistry with inanimate objects and he flirted with just about everyone. Hell, he even called the biggest guy in Security Cupcake.
If she just had that sign, she'd know one way or the other...
"And if I ever hear that you said anything as disrespectful about any member of this crew again, I'll have you busted down to janitorial staff and sent out on a garbage scow! Am I making myself clear?"
"Yes sir!" the terrified ensigns stammered, all four of them standing to attention with spines so straight McCoy thought they'd snap in two.
He sighed as he watched his best friend glower at the unfortunate kids, doing his best 'evil captain' routine for all he was worth, until the ensigns were dismissed.
"Well, that certainly wasn't an over-reaction," he said lightly as Jim seethed beside him.
They fell into step as they headed for McCoy's quarters and a bottle of Saurian brandy that Jim seemed in dire medicinal need of.
"They were talking about Janice, Bones," Jim said tightly. "And you didn't hear what they were saying."
McCoy could take a pretty accurate guess, but he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut about that. Unfortunately, he wasn't smart enough to keep it all the way shut.
"You know, blowing up like that at them won't do much to keep the rumours at bay, Jim," he said unwisely.
"I will personally shoot the next man I hear spreading lies like that from the nearest airlock," he said grimly, slapping the call button for the turbolift with more force than was necessary. They entered, and McCoy selected his deck from the panel of buttons in front of him.
"Well," McCoy sighed as the doors slid shut. "That would be...helpful."
Several hours and the best part of a bottle of brandy later, Jim was no longer angry and sober. Now he was morose and drunk.
"She's just so pretty, Bones," he said mournfully. "She's the prettiest woman on the ship."
Jim peered blearily at his best friend.
"Except for Christine, of course, but she's taken so she doesn't count."
McCoy waved his glass munificently.
"And she's smart, Bones. And funny."
"Of course she is, Jim," he said kindly.
"And she doesn't take my shit, just because I'm captain," Jim brooded. "She bosses me around a lot and makes me do the paperwork I don't want to do."
"That's very sexy," McCoy agreed. At Jim's belligerent expression, he clarified. "I meant that Christine does that too, and it's sexy."
Jim nodded, and sat back in his seat.
"If I was anybody else on this ship," he muttered, "I wouldn't be here getting drunk with you. I'd be in bed with her."
"Well, what's stopping you?" said McCoy, slightly exasperated. "The regs have changed. It's not forbidden any more. For God's sake, you're not Pike and his First Officer, you don't have to have a tortured romance."
"People talk," Jim said succinctly.
"Then go and give them something to talk about," McCoy replied, having now run out of both brandy and patience.
Jim fell into thought, and remained silent until Christine came home from her girls' night and affectionately kicked him out.
"Do you think he's going to do anything?" she asked around her toothbrush as they jostled for space at the sink.
"Hard to tell," her lover replied as he tried to see the mirror as he ran the sonic shaver over his face.
"We should get them both drunk," Christine decided as she finished her teeth and went on to her moisturiser. "I swear that Janice is two drinks away from jumping him on the bridge."
"We do have a few nights shore leave planned pretty soon," McCoy mused. "There must be a bar we could take them to."
"Alcohol," Christine said with satisfaction. "It solves every problem."
"Or causes ten more," McCoy warned her, dropping what was supposed to be one little kiss on the side of her neck. Ten kisses later, neither of them had much interest in Janice and Jim any more.
"Are you sure that this is our sort of place?" Janice asked doubtfully as she was tugged into a decidedly seedy looking bar. This was supposed to be a girl's night out, and they usually happened in chic clubs with elegant cocktails. This place looked like it should have sawdust on the floor and a shotgun behind the bar.
"It'll be an adventure," Uhura said firmly, planting one hand in the small of Janice's back and propelling her further into the crowded room.
"A few shots and you won't care about where we are!" Gaila said gleefully, plunging into the crowd around the bar and elbowing her way through. The rest of the group followed, until Janice found herself pushed up against a sticky wooden platform.
"Shots!" demanded Christine of the bartender. "And keep them coming."
The man behind the bar stole a glance at the Starfleet credit chip she was waving around and smiled.
"You want the good stuff, girls?" he asked, reaching beneath the bar and bringing out a fancy bottle of Cardassian kolar. "Make you forget your troubles after the second glass, bring you whole new ones with the third. You all up for it?"
Janice's unenthusiastic "yes" was drowned out by the more enthusiastic response of the others, but she gamely picked up her glass and swallowed. Others in the room were in various stages of getting drunk, and she recognised a few people from the ship here and there in the crowd.
Against one of the walls was a stage, set up for patrons to entertain the crowd by singing along to a number of prepared backing tracks. There were also some musicians with real instruments hanging around to lend a hand. Janice sighed. She had been dragged to karaoke places before, back on Earth, and she wasn't fond of them. She wasn't a singer, and usually the people that ended up performing weren't skilled in that area either.
"Look!" said Christine suddenly, "It's the boys! Len, over here!"
Christine was great at many things, but lying just wasn't one of them. The too-bright smile and desperate waving smacked of set-up to Janice.
"Fancy meeting you lasses here!" boomed Scotty, who was as bad at concealment as Christine was. "What a coincidence!"
"Yeah," said another voice. "Very coincidental."
The partners moved off together, Uhura tagging along with Scotty and Gaila as Spock was back up on the Enterprise. That left Janice and Jim standing at the bar with bartender and his excellent bottle of kolar.
"Set them up," Janice ordered, and he obliged, pouring the amber liquid into a long line of glasses.
"I was promised a night of male-oriented debauchery," Jim sighed, looking over to where Gaila was happily perched on Scotty's knee, and McCoy and Chapel were holding hands in an incongruously sweet way, given their surroundings. Charlene Masters,Scotty's second in command in Engineering, and joined their party and was chatting to Uhura.
"I thought we were headed to one of the cocktail lounges," Janice told him. She smoothed down the material of the tight-fitting green dress she was wearing, and looked about at the decidedly casual attire of most of the clientele. "I look like an idiot and I'm freezing."
"The people here hate feeling too warm," Kirk explained, shrugging off the denim jacket he was wearing. "Their standard environmental controls are set much lower in temperature than we're used to. Here, take this."
He held out his jacket to her, and she hesitated. She was cold, but in taking his jacket it was possible that some member of the crew would misinterpret the chivalrous action and start yet another round of rumours. She was about to politely decline when a cold blast from a vent at her feet ripped through the thin material of her dress.
"Thank you," she said gratefully, shrugging it on.
"It looks better on you anyway," he told her, winking. "And you don't look like an idiot, you look gorgeous," Jim corrected her, and then knocked back one of the glasses in front of them. "Sorry," he went on. "I know I'm not supposed to say that to you, but... what the hell. You're the most beautiful woman in here tonight, Janice."
He cast a slightly panicked look at her from the corner of his eye, and then knocked back another two of the glasses.
"Oh," Janice said softly, touched. "Well, thank you. And in return, I think whoever bought you that shirt has done you a favour. It brings out your eyes."
"What makes you think I didn't pick this out myself?" he asked, jokingly.
"I've seen pictures of you at the Academy," Janice said, picking up a glass herself and drinking the contents. "I know you have zero fashion sense."
"I am hurt and offended by that," he told her, smiling broadly.
"Oh, poor baby," Janice sighed, patting him on the remarkably firm bicep. "Have another drink to ease your pain."
He did, and so did she. Knowingly, the bartender set up the glasses again.
Around them the crowd ebbed and flowed. At one point there was a particularly big surge for the bar and Janice was sent stumbling sideways by the tail of a Caitian. Jim shot out an arm and pulled him close to her, for safety; once the crowd died down again, neither particularly wanted to move.
"This is nice," Jim said, bending his head to talk directly into her ear. "Normally I don't get close enough to smell your perfume."
"Do you like it?" she asked, the kolar making her bold.
He ducked his head again, and she felt his warm breath dance over her neck as he inhaled.
"Definitely," he murmured in her ear.
She felt his arm tighten around her waist, and in a kolar-induced fit of madness, allowed herself to put her head on his chest. She tensed, waiting for him to pull away, but he did the opposite and started to play with a few loose strands of her hair.
They both said nothing, but she could feel him shake slightly, and she let out a long breath. Dimly, in the distance, she heard cheering, but she was too embarrassed to look around and see if it was her friends. She was pretty sure that was Gaila's distinctive wolf-whistle she heard.
"Well," he said finally. "Thank fuck for that."
She couldn't help it; she let out a snort of laughter against his chest.
A little later, the karaoke started.
"Oh no," groaned Janice, who now, after seven or eight shots of kolar was cuddling close to Jim less as a show of affection and more as a means of support.
"You don't like it?" Jim asked.
"It's dire," dismissed Janice. "A lot of drunken idiots crooning love songs to their drunken partners."
Two fingers tipped her chin upwards, and she smiled dazedly at the gorgeous blue eyes above her.
"Hi," she said goofily.
"Hi," he said back, grinning in an equally stupid way. "What was I going to say?"
"Something about karaoke?" Janice hazarded.
He beamed at her.
"You're so clever," he said happily. "I was going to ask, has anybody ever sung to you, Janice?"
"Well, no," she started, but that was enough. He picked up and drained the last remaining glasses of kolar on the bar and kissed her on the forehead.
"Wait here," he said, lifting her onto a barstool. "Watch me."
"Okay," replied Janice, a little bemused as he plunged into the heaving crowd. He disappeared from sight for a while, and as if by magic, Uhura, Gaila and Christine appeared by her side.
"I'm so happy for you!" squealed Gaila, hugging her. "Jim is very good in bed! You'll have a wonderful time!"
"Thanks," Janice said, returning the hug and trying not to laugh. "And thank all of you for the set-up."
"Not a problem," Christine said happily. "We just demand all the dirty details afterwards."
"Good lord, what is that boy doing?" Uhura asked. She had followed Kirk's progress through the crowd and to the stage. "Is he...is he going to sing?"
"Yes," Janice said happily.
At the stage, Jim was in earnest negotiation with one of the band members who shrugged and handed him an acoustic guitar that was propped up against one of the amplifiers.
"I didn't know he could play the guitar," Christine said admiringly.
"He can't," sighed McCoy. "Not well, anyway. But he thinks he's a god-damned virtuoso."
What followed was an aural assault of epic proportions, as Jim murdered "Let's Give Them Something To Talk About" while simultaneously twanging a guitar that was distinctly out of tune. He was booed and cheered with equal measure, but during his performance he never once took his eyes off Janice, who in turn, never stopped smiling at him. Somewhere to the right of her McCoy was filming the whole show, no doubt with later blackmail opportunities in mind.
Despite being drunker than she'd been in a long time, Janice made a mental note to upload the footage from the ship's databanks onto a disk and then delete all evidence of the video. Despite the song being delivered to a whole bar full of drunken people, she knew that this song was only for her.
Take It From Me - The Weepies
What can I compare you to, when everything looks like you?
I get a bit confused with every Spring
Flowers that bloom your eyes, hummingbirds side by side
My heart won't stay entirely in this rib caging
"You have Shakespeare?"
Janice stopped short, noticing other familiar names among the old-style books stacked haphazardly in front of the bookcase, waiting to be shelved. She glanced quizzically over at the desk where her commanding officer sat, still swamped by the various engineering printouts she'd delivered a few hours back. Lt. Commander Scott had dreamed up some extensive test runs before they shipped out. "I wouldn't have thought you a reader of the classics, sir."
"Yes, well," Kirk licked his lips, a small smile rising on his tired face as he looked up from the paperwork, "you'd be surprised at how handy knowing some Shakespeare can be. The Klingons eat up the dramas-- Hamlet especially-- and the sonnets are appreciated by the ladies, no matter the species."
He gave her the full-out Kirk smirk-- the one she liked to think she'd already developed an immunity to-- and his eyes suddenly seemed bluer. "Shall I compare thee to a summer day, Janice? Thou art more lovely and more temperate."
Despite herself, Janice's breath hitched just a bit, but she met his eyes steadily as she handed over the PADDs she was delivering. "I wonder that you will still be talking, Captain Kirk: nobody marks you."
For a moment, the ready room was silent. She had held back previously when he'd teased her, and maybe-
Kirk guffawed, eyes crinkling as he gave a little salute at her sally. "Well met, my dear Yeoman Disdain! Let me know if you'd like to borrow something-- never know when we'll run into some Klingons waiting to be dazzled by your wit." He smiled again, meeting her eyes for a beat before bending over the PADDs with renewed energy.
It was at that moment, heart still beating slightly too fast, that Janice realized for the first time how truly incomparable Captain James T. Kirk was.
There She Goes - The La's
There she goes
There she goes again
Racing through my brain
And I just can't contain
This feeling that remains
When he was still trying to deny it, Jim blamed it on surprise.
She wasn't quite what he had expected in a yeoman, and it pulled him off balance a bit. That was all there was to it.
First, she showed up at his newly-acquired office at Command-- he hadn't even requested a yeoman-- and tore through the required minutiae like a Klingon on the warpath. His main role there had been to sign whatever she told him to and otherwise stay the hell back. To be honest, Jim had been equal parts impressed and intimidated with her efficiency.
Then, in the lead-up to the Enterprise re-launch, she had opened up a little, and suddenly it became Janice who was rushing in and out of his ready room at all hours, not just a paperwork-destroying Yeoman Rand. She wasn't fazed by his flirting or Chekov's technobabble, and he thinks she might have been responsible for his relatively smooth reception among the older enlisted crew members. He remembers thinking that Spock would have termed her “fascinating”.
Finally underway, still working out the kinks, and she was always there when he most needed and least expected her. She'd show up out of nowhere, flash him that dazzling smile, and let him know that his schedule was clear to go deal with Scotty's latest disaster-cum-act-of-genius. Then she was off again.
She kept surprising him. That was all.
Mr Blue Sky - The Delgados
Sun is shining in the sky,
there ain’t a cloud in sight,
it's stopped raining,
everybody's in a play,
and don't you know?
it's a beautiful new day
Janice woke up the next morning to a feeling of wetness on her face. Lifting her head slightly-- and that hadn't been such a good idea, she realized, as the hammers started-- she identified the wetness as... drool. From Jim.
Despite the headache, she smiled widely at the sight in front of her. Jim was snoring slightly, head buried into a pillow, with hair that could beat Chekov's out any day for sheer craziness. There was a smear of lipstick across half his collar. They'd come back to her room, managed to get their shoes off... and one of Jim's socks, it looked like... before collapsing on the bed. Janice remembered that she hadn't been able to stop giggling the night before, riding high from a combination of the kolar and the kisses they'd exchanged every few seconds after exiting the bar.
She ducked her head into the crook of his neck, enjoying a moment more of warmth before reluctantly scooting out of bed. She'd need a hypo soon to keep her headache from growing into a migraine. Making her way to the bathroom, Janice pulled off her stockings and dress from the night before, pausing slightly when she realized the fabric smelled like Jim-- beneath the alcohol and whatever that local herb was. And God, how was she was still smiling with her head pounding so much?
"You need to pull yourself together and stop grinning like a loon," she told her reflection in the mirror as seriously as she could. "Christine is going to give you so much shit when you knock on her door for a hypo."
Pulling on a pair of sweats and t-shirt, she glanced at the man in the bed. Jim was curled around her pillow, still solidly asleep-- he'd be sleeping it off for a few more hours at least. Above the bed, the window showed a brilliant blue sky, with the system's primary star blazing away. As she headed towards the door, Janice grabbed her running shoes. A beautiful new day like this shouldn't be wasted.
Jim teased her for years about the size of the smile on her face when she returned from her run under the blue sky.
The Reasons - The Weakerthans
I can barely play this thing,
But you never seem to mind,
And you tell me to fuck off
When I need somebody to.
How you make me laugh so hard.
How whole years refuse to stay
Where we told them to, bad dog
The shift in attitude was just as smooth as a turbolift ride, he thought, and just as quietly dramatic. Outside, on the bridge, on an away mission, they were a captain and his yeoman-- friendly, certainly, and as informal as every other relationship Jim had with his crew, but still, in some indefinable way, professionals. Which was how it should be.
Step inside the cabin at the end of the day, though, and suddenly it was... just Jim and Janice.
They were four years into the mission, months slipping by like they were nothing, and Jim still loved being captain, of course. The idea of this gig ever being less than fucking awesome or voluntarily giving up his lovely lady Enterprise was beyond him. But to hang up the gold shirt for a few hours, slouch into the couch, and just chill out with his other girl, well...
Janice would probably give him shit about that thing with the Klingons today, he thought as he palmed the door. Someone had to, and Spock was too busy being just as guilty.
She was already curled up on the couch as he entered, a set of pastels balanced precariously on the sofa's arm and an open drawing pad in her lap. A tendril of blonde hair had escaped its messy bun, trailing down her neck onto the back of the couch.
"Hey Jan," Jim said softly as he crossed the room, not wanting to startle her from her sketch. "Have I told you lately how spectacular you are?"
The Idea of Growing Old - The Features
We can lay around and count the number of times
I've acted foolish and you've rolled your eyes
You turn me on to the idea of growing old
"Well, then," Jim paused, letting the last echos of the argument he'd stopped fade away completely. Pointing fingers wouldn't get them anywhere now. "With that settled, does anyone have a pack of cards? I could teach you guys the trick of bluffing Spock and Uhura-"
"They're outside, sir. With the rest of our equipment," Sulu said sullenly from across the cave. A slight scuffling sound deeper in suggested that the bite in Sulu's comment hadn't gone unnoticed by Ensign Banerjee. Kid would need to work on that reflexive wince.
"There's no light anyways, Captain," Janice said with a bit of a laugh in her voice, sounding closer than he'd thought. He reached out blindly to his right, twining his fingers with hers automatically when their hands met.
"Guess that means charades is out too." Jim gave her a lazy grin, despite the complete black, and felt her squeeze his hand gently in return. "Anyone care to put forth a topic for discussion-- not how we got into this mess, Hikaru-- until the other away party realizes we're behind this rock slide?"
"I've never had the chance to count up the number of missions you've led that have needed to be rescued, Jim,” Janice chimed in. “That could whittle away some time, especially if Hikaru pitches in with some of the... colorful factoids that never end up in the reports I send back to Fleet."
“Niggling little details, Janice. Not important enough for an official Starfleet mission debriefing.” Thank God for his perceptive yeoman and her ability to keep the mood light, despite their FUBAR situation. Maybe the next however-many-hours would be bearable, even with Sulu's sulking and the petrified Ensign.
The Cave - Mumford & Sons
Because I need freedom now
And I need to know how
To live my life as it's meant to be
...
And I'll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways
I'll know my name as it's called again
He hadn’t understood.
Janice tilted her head slightly. Jim was curled up on the other side of the bed, his back to her. Deep, even breaths, a lie as obvious as the space between them.
She hadn’t-- it wasn’t about leaving. Not the Enterprise, not Jim.
Eyes closed, she slowly unclenched her fingers. They’d been fighting a bit lately. Nothing important, nothing she could even remember the next day. He’d asked if that was why. She hadn’t even known how to respond.
She needed to prove it to herself, that she could hack the Academy, that she, Janice Rand, could become an officer, that she could do it well on her own.
She wouldn’t have had the strength to apply without him. But he didn’t understand that.
Boots Of Spanish Leather - Tyler Hilton & Alexa Dirks (Bob Dylan cover)
I got a letter on a lonesome day
It was from her ship a-sailin'
Saying I don't know when I'll be comin' back again
It depends on how I'm a-feelin'.
Jim knew he was being ridiculous. Bones would probably have said something about infants, and grown men sulking, and maybe given him that buddy punch in the shoulder-- which still fricken’ stung, by the way. So Jim was hanging out-- not hiding-- on the floor of Observation Lounge Three, lights at five percent as he watched the stars pass by overhead.
He didn't have a right to be angry, and he wasn't, not really. They'd agreed, he remembered. Even with the accelerated program for the enlisted crew, it was a long time for promises. And it wasn't like she'd forgotten him or anything. This was the eighth com in as many weeks. And he should be glad for the opportunity Janice was getting-- had earned, in fact.
Jim rubbed his hand along the rough carpet as he tracked a white dwarf in a nearby system, watching until it disappeared from sight. She'd been so happy, telling him about the new Ops specialty created by the admiralty especially for the newer Constellation-class ships. Objectively, he understood the need. Hell, he and Spock had submitted a report after their first year, explaining in small words how the logistics of a ship with over 1,000 crew members couldn't be managed effectively by just the captain and his first officer.
But. At least an eighteen months of extra training, maybe more, she didn't know for sure yet. All said in this cheerful tone, like it was nothing, followed in the next breath by questions about what he and the rest of the bridge crew wanted in their care package.
Jim sighed, and stood up slowly. Spock or Bones would come hunting him soon. Sulk time over, he decided, still looking out at the stars.
It was just that, well, there was only one thing on Earth he actually wanted.
No Air - Jordin Sparks featuring Chris Brown
I walked, I ran, I jumped, I flew
Right off the ground to float to you
With no gravity to hold me down for real
Janice's homesickness for the Enterprise and its captain hit her like a brick during a first-year lecture on uncontrolled decompression in vacuum environments.
They'd been six months out when they'd encountered an uncharted asteroid field. Janice had been unlucky, caught in the cargo bay when a surprisingly fast tiny planetoid had smashed into the ship's hull and breached it.
All the air had sucked out of her lungs, just like the Academy instructor was describing. She'd grabbed a handhold, but mere human reaction time was far slower than the laws of physics and she'd been wrenched away, hurtling towards the suck of cold space, and just as she was about to panic...
...a hand caught her, and a forcefield sealed the breach, and she was suddenly, gratefully able to suck in a deep breath and turn towards...
...the bluest eyes this side of the Alpha quadrant. Jim Kirk grinned at her as they floated, waiting for the gravity to come back on, tugging her closer and shamelessly using the excuse to wrap an arm around her waist.
"Got you," he teased, like it was no big deal.
In the windowless Academy classroom, Janice put her head down on her desk so that no one could see her cry.
Beautiful Mess - Diamond Rio
What a beautiful mess I'm in.
Spendin' all my time with you,
There's nothin' else I'd rather do.
What Jim missed most was the way she would look at him-- usually with a mix of irritation and amusement-- and then smile.
It was an open, honest smile, whether she was indulging one of his whims or not. She never tried to hide what she was thinking.
After the first week or so she'd been on board, Jim had become adept at hiding what he was thinking. Not that he wanted any of this mess, but some things were beyond his control. So he'd tamped down the fondness which had progressed to less-than-brotherly affection which had in turn become full-fledged lust when he'd realized that that look and that smile were meant only for him.
In the end, she'd been the absolute last person on board to realize exactly what he'd been keeping to himself.
Jim grinned, remembering that moment, and her look, and her dawning smile.
How Do You Do - Cascada
Do your caress, honey, my heart's in a mess.
I love your blue-eyed voice, like Tiny Tim shines thru.
How do you do!
How do you do the things that you do?
No one I know could ever keep up with you.
Secretly, privately, in a way that revealed the coarse shallows of her personality, Janice would admit it:
Jim Kirk was a SEX GOD.
She'd seen him go hand-to-hand against three renegade Klingons, head back to the bridge to spend four hours brokering the resulting ceasefire agreement, run down six decks to celebrate some ensign's birthday, and then find Janice wherever she was and literally sweep her off her feet and carry her to his cabin where he would UTTERLY AND COMPLETELY SATIATE EVERY SEXUAL CRAVING SHE'D EVER HAD.
Janice wasn't a prude; she liked men and had always enjoyed dating. But Jim Kirk was so far out of her usual orbit that he was practically in another solar system.
Of course, Earth's sun would go nova before she ever admitted that to anyone, let alone him.
It just made things even more difficult than they already were. It was hard enough trying to be sensible. That's what they'd decided to call it when she was leaving, being sensible-- she was going to be at the Academy for four years, surrounded by hundreds of brilliant, handsome young cadets, and he, well, he might have to seduce another crazy alien chick into not commandeering the ship and turning the crew into little blocks of salt. So they were being sensible, and not making promises.
When she was alone late at night, though, she would acknowledge the truth. Jim Kirk was OUTSTANDING.
Something To Talk About - Bonnie Raitt
Now that we know it,
Let's really show it, darlin'
Let's give them something to talk about
Graduation day for Janice felt like a relief rather than a triumph. She wasn't a fresh-faced young cadet; she'd served before and new exactly what she was getting into.
So she hadn't made a fuss. A few friends had sent her congratulations via subspace, but she hadn't asked her family or anyone else to attend the graduation ceremony. She smiled through it with a certain amount of satisfaction and then went out to chat with her fellow graduates, taking pictures of them with their parents, and having a nice, if not exciting, time.
The graduating class had booked one of the off-campus bars for the night, and she'd gone to that too, wanting to be sociable. After all, she only had one graduation.
After her third drink, though, she was about ready to pack it in for the night, and decided that a quick detour through the crowd to the bathroom was the best plan before the walk back to campus.
When she came out of the ladies', though, it was as if something had changed. The party was louder, more raucous. People seemed excited.
Curious, Janice peered around her as she headed back to the bar, wondering what had injected even more life into the party.
Wait. Was that Nyota Uhura? She turned in the direction of the flash of black and red, but the figure had slipped through the crowd.
Strange. Maybe what she needed was sleep. Enterprise was nowhere near Earth; she knew that, and besides--
"Hello, Janice." An arm curled around her waist, tugging in a too-familiar way.
"Ji-- Captain!"
James Kirk smiled down at her. "Congratulations, Lieutenant."
"What are you doing here?"
"Like I'd miss your graduation." He leaned down, drawing her closer.
"Everyone can see!" she hissed.
"So?" He shrugged. "You're not a cadet anymore; you're not serving under me despite my offer to--"
"That wasn't exactly a Starfleet-approved incentive," she told him.
His grin widened, and she knew he was about to make one of his leaps.
"Jim..." was all she managed.
And then his mouth was on hers, and it had been so long, too long... She barely registered the whoops and cheers around her as she wound an arm around his neck to pull him as close as she needed him to be.
When they broke apart, gasping for air, she realized that everyone was staring at them. Everyone. Dozens, maybe even hundreds of her classmates, and yes, that was the entire senior staff of the Enterprise crowded around, all with identical knowing grins on their faces.
She looked up at Jim. "You had to do this. The legendary Captain Kirk shows up at their graduation party. They'll be telling this story for years."
"Well, in that case," he said.
"Jim--"
He raised his voice. "The next round is on me!"
Another roar went up from the crowd, and Janice would have blushed if she weren't completely immune to him at this point.
"Let's make sure they tell the story right," he said in a low voice.
"What--?"
And then he scooped her up in his arms, kissed her, and carried her through the parting crowd out of the bar.
Creator(s): fringedweller [fic], jactrades [vid], jactrades and esme_green [fanmix]
Universe: AOS
Word Count: ~3300 [fic]; n/a [vid]; ~3400 (w/ music stuffs), ~3000 (w/o music stuffs) [fanmix]
Rating: PG-13 [fic]; G [vid]; PG-13 [mix]
Summary: Warp engines are fast but rumors move faster-- at least on the Enterprise...
Disclaimer: Characters mentioned are used without permission and are trademarks of CBS/Gene Roddenberry. We do not own them and are simply borrowing for our purposes. Also, any images resembling celebrities are not meant to be liable. Please don't sue.
There were rumours about them, of course. Many, many rumours. But in a closed community of just over one thousand people, most of them young and horny, rumours were to be expected. There were rumours about everybody.
Rumour had McCoy and Chapel doing more than discuss patient care in his private office for months before Christine worked up enough courage to make them true. Now, after what had been dubbed the Unfortunate Incident, the medical staff make sure they knock before heading into McCoy's office. Loudly.
Rumour had Spock and Uhura secretly married during a brief stop at New Vulcan for a supply run, although nobody was actually brave or foolhardy enough to ask either of them about it.
Rumour had Gaila entice Scotty into a Jefferies tube where she seduced him with dirty talk regarding the Heisenburg compensator, although Gaila was fond of making up stories about herself and spreading them around the ship, so nobody knew if that one was true or not. Even after all this time around humans, Gaila still hadn't got the hang of some forms of social interaction. Or she just didn't care, one of the two.
There were rumours about Lieutenant Keenser and his remarkable success with the ladies of the ship. There were rumours about Ensign Chekov pining away for his best friend, Lieutenant Sulu. There were even rumours about Sulu and his sentient plant, Gertrude, but that could have just been Gaila again.
Janice knew that the ship ran on rumours, almost as much as on dilithium, but the ones about her and Jim Kirk were the worst. She wasn't sure which ones she hated more; the ones that assumed that she was a star-struck yeoman who shed her clothes as soon as the ready room door shut, or the ones that made him out to be someone that thought with his dick.
Neither of those things were true.
Not really.
Yes, she'd admit, at first, she may have been a little star-struck at first. He was James T Kirk, for crying out loud, that man that had led the team that saved Earth from destruction. He escaped black holes. He was one of the first people, ever, to be beamed onto a ship moving at warp. He took on psychopathic Romulans single-handedly and managed to save the life of Admiral Pike. And he did this all in one day.
Janice had nightmares thinking about what his weekly schedule would look like.
But when she reported to him for duty, back at Starfleet Command before the Enterprise launched again, he was just a man buried under a pile of paperwork a mile high, and in desperate need of a cup of coffee.
She didn't bring him the coffee, of course; she was a yeoman, first class, not a waitress. He graduated near the top of his class in advanced astrophysics, he could work a damn replicator by himself. But he was so pathetically grateful when she showed up and cut a swath through his paperwork that somehow she forgot to be in awe of him. And then he offered her a place on his staff for the Enterprise's first five year tour, on the basis that he was going to need someone who was better at him at coping with the hundreds of administrative tasks that the flagship of the fleet generated every day and she was the best he had ever worked with.
She forebear to comment that she was the only yeoman he had ever worked with; he had delivered his little speech so sincerely that she was willing to let that slide.
She admired him, of course, but she respected him as well; he pulled off minor miracles at semi-regular intervals and always, always put the well-being of his crew before his own.
And because she liked him, and respected him, she got more than a little annoyed at the way that his crew, the crew that he worked so damned hard to keep alive and healthy, often at his own personal risk, seemed to see him as a walking hormone and judged him accordingly.
In fact, she got damn angry about it.
Yes, their captain enjoyed the company of pretty ladies. And yes, pretty ladies seemed to enjoy his company too. The last time she checked, that wasn't a crime. Hell, on some planets, it was practically a requirement. He didn't force his attentions on the unwilling and if he wasn't exactly a long-term prospect, well, that was how it went when his job was space exploration.
The whole thing just pissed her off, that's all. And as for the rumours about her, well, she knew they were bullshit, and her friends knew they were bullshit. That was all that mattered.
It wasn't as if she had never thought about him in that way, of course; you spend hours every day with a man that gorgeous, that smart, that funny, and you see if you don't get a bit of a crush. But despite the occasional fantasies of rolling around naked on a tropical beach with him, that's all it was, a crush. That's all it ever could be, despite the new Starfleet Code of Interpersonal Conduct that had retroactively legitimised a lot of relationships on board.
Because while people could handle the CMO being bossed around by his Head Nurse in their quarters and in sickbay, and while people would have no problem with the Head of Communications and the First Officer pushing forward the boundaries of inter-species bonding, people would have a problem with the Captain sleeping with any of his crew.
So, that was that. She occasionally dated a few of the men that her friends vetted and pushed in her direction, and even more occasionally, she took some of them to bed. But it never lasted long, and she was never that broken up when it ended. A sensible woman would acknowledge why, and then move on; either transfer away and forget him, take up with one of the agreeable men that turned up from time to time and forget him, or screw her courage to the sticking place and just jump him one afternoon in the Ready Room, rumours be damned.
But Janice wasn't sensible, or the quitting type. The longer she worked with him, the more she looked in favour at jumping him, but something held her back. She just wished that he would give her some kind of sign that he felt the same way, something clear and unambiguous. He flirted gently with her, that's true, but the man had sexual chemistry with inanimate objects and he flirted with just about everyone. Hell, he even called the biggest guy in Security Cupcake.
If she just had that sign, she'd know one way or the other...
"And if I ever hear that you said anything as disrespectful about any member of this crew again, I'll have you busted down to janitorial staff and sent out on a garbage scow! Am I making myself clear?"
"Yes sir!" the terrified ensigns stammered, all four of them standing to attention with spines so straight McCoy thought they'd snap in two.
He sighed as he watched his best friend glower at the unfortunate kids, doing his best 'evil captain' routine for all he was worth, until the ensigns were dismissed.
"Well, that certainly wasn't an over-reaction," he said lightly as Jim seethed beside him.
They fell into step as they headed for McCoy's quarters and a bottle of Saurian brandy that Jim seemed in dire medicinal need of.
"They were talking about Janice, Bones," Jim said tightly. "And you didn't hear what they were saying."
McCoy could take a pretty accurate guess, but he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut about that. Unfortunately, he wasn't smart enough to keep it all the way shut.
"You know, blowing up like that at them won't do much to keep the rumours at bay, Jim," he said unwisely.
"I will personally shoot the next man I hear spreading lies like that from the nearest airlock," he said grimly, slapping the call button for the turbolift with more force than was necessary. They entered, and McCoy selected his deck from the panel of buttons in front of him.
"Well," McCoy sighed as the doors slid shut. "That would be...helpful."
Several hours and the best part of a bottle of brandy later, Jim was no longer angry and sober. Now he was morose and drunk.
"She's just so pretty, Bones," he said mournfully. "She's the prettiest woman on the ship."
Jim peered blearily at his best friend.
"Except for Christine, of course, but she's taken so she doesn't count."
McCoy waved his glass munificently.
"And she's smart, Bones. And funny."
"Of course she is, Jim," he said kindly.
"And she doesn't take my shit, just because I'm captain," Jim brooded. "She bosses me around a lot and makes me do the paperwork I don't want to do."
"That's very sexy," McCoy agreed. At Jim's belligerent expression, he clarified. "I meant that Christine does that too, and it's sexy."
Jim nodded, and sat back in his seat.
"If I was anybody else on this ship," he muttered, "I wouldn't be here getting drunk with you. I'd be in bed with her."
"Well, what's stopping you?" said McCoy, slightly exasperated. "The regs have changed. It's not forbidden any more. For God's sake, you're not Pike and his First Officer, you don't have to have a tortured romance."
"People talk," Jim said succinctly.
"Then go and give them something to talk about," McCoy replied, having now run out of both brandy and patience.
Jim fell into thought, and remained silent until Christine came home from her girls' night and affectionately kicked him out.
"Do you think he's going to do anything?" she asked around her toothbrush as they jostled for space at the sink.
"Hard to tell," her lover replied as he tried to see the mirror as he ran the sonic shaver over his face.
"We should get them both drunk," Christine decided as she finished her teeth and went on to her moisturiser. "I swear that Janice is two drinks away from jumping him on the bridge."
"We do have a few nights shore leave planned pretty soon," McCoy mused. "There must be a bar we could take them to."
"Alcohol," Christine said with satisfaction. "It solves every problem."
"Or causes ten more," McCoy warned her, dropping what was supposed to be one little kiss on the side of her neck. Ten kisses later, neither of them had much interest in Janice and Jim any more.
"Are you sure that this is our sort of place?" Janice asked doubtfully as she was tugged into a decidedly seedy looking bar. This was supposed to be a girl's night out, and they usually happened in chic clubs with elegant cocktails. This place looked like it should have sawdust on the floor and a shotgun behind the bar.
"It'll be an adventure," Uhura said firmly, planting one hand in the small of Janice's back and propelling her further into the crowded room.
"A few shots and you won't care about where we are!" Gaila said gleefully, plunging into the crowd around the bar and elbowing her way through. The rest of the group followed, until Janice found herself pushed up against a sticky wooden platform.
"Shots!" demanded Christine of the bartender. "And keep them coming."
The man behind the bar stole a glance at the Starfleet credit chip she was waving around and smiled.
"You want the good stuff, girls?" he asked, reaching beneath the bar and bringing out a fancy bottle of Cardassian kolar. "Make you forget your troubles after the second glass, bring you whole new ones with the third. You all up for it?"
Janice's unenthusiastic "yes" was drowned out by the more enthusiastic response of the others, but she gamely picked up her glass and swallowed. Others in the room were in various stages of getting drunk, and she recognised a few people from the ship here and there in the crowd.
Against one of the walls was a stage, set up for patrons to entertain the crowd by singing along to a number of prepared backing tracks. There were also some musicians with real instruments hanging around to lend a hand. Janice sighed. She had been dragged to karaoke places before, back on Earth, and she wasn't fond of them. She wasn't a singer, and usually the people that ended up performing weren't skilled in that area either.
"Look!" said Christine suddenly, "It's the boys! Len, over here!"
Christine was great at many things, but lying just wasn't one of them. The too-bright smile and desperate waving smacked of set-up to Janice.
"Fancy meeting you lasses here!" boomed Scotty, who was as bad at concealment as Christine was. "What a coincidence!"
"Yeah," said another voice. "Very coincidental."
The partners moved off together, Uhura tagging along with Scotty and Gaila as Spock was back up on the Enterprise. That left Janice and Jim standing at the bar with bartender and his excellent bottle of kolar.
"Set them up," Janice ordered, and he obliged, pouring the amber liquid into a long line of glasses.
"I was promised a night of male-oriented debauchery," Jim sighed, looking over to where Gaila was happily perched on Scotty's knee, and McCoy and Chapel were holding hands in an incongruously sweet way, given their surroundings. Charlene Masters,Scotty's second in command in Engineering, and joined their party and was chatting to Uhura.
"I thought we were headed to one of the cocktail lounges," Janice told him. She smoothed down the material of the tight-fitting green dress she was wearing, and looked about at the decidedly casual attire of most of the clientele. "I look like an idiot and I'm freezing."
"The people here hate feeling too warm," Kirk explained, shrugging off the denim jacket he was wearing. "Their standard environmental controls are set much lower in temperature than we're used to. Here, take this."
He held out his jacket to her, and she hesitated. She was cold, but in taking his jacket it was possible that some member of the crew would misinterpret the chivalrous action and start yet another round of rumours. She was about to politely decline when a cold blast from a vent at her feet ripped through the thin material of her dress.
"Thank you," she said gratefully, shrugging it on.
"It looks better on you anyway," he told her, winking. "And you don't look like an idiot, you look gorgeous," Jim corrected her, and then knocked back one of the glasses in front of them. "Sorry," he went on. "I know I'm not supposed to say that to you, but... what the hell. You're the most beautiful woman in here tonight, Janice."
He cast a slightly panicked look at her from the corner of his eye, and then knocked back another two of the glasses.
"Oh," Janice said softly, touched. "Well, thank you. And in return, I think whoever bought you that shirt has done you a favour. It brings out your eyes."
"What makes you think I didn't pick this out myself?" he asked, jokingly.
"I've seen pictures of you at the Academy," Janice said, picking up a glass herself and drinking the contents. "I know you have zero fashion sense."
"I am hurt and offended by that," he told her, smiling broadly.
"Oh, poor baby," Janice sighed, patting him on the remarkably firm bicep. "Have another drink to ease your pain."
He did, and so did she. Knowingly, the bartender set up the glasses again.
Around them the crowd ebbed and flowed. At one point there was a particularly big surge for the bar and Janice was sent stumbling sideways by the tail of a Caitian. Jim shot out an arm and pulled him close to her, for safety; once the crowd died down again, neither particularly wanted to move.
"This is nice," Jim said, bending his head to talk directly into her ear. "Normally I don't get close enough to smell your perfume."
"Do you like it?" she asked, the kolar making her bold.
He ducked his head again, and she felt his warm breath dance over her neck as he inhaled.
"Definitely," he murmured in her ear.
She felt his arm tighten around her waist, and in a kolar-induced fit of madness, allowed herself to put her head on his chest. She tensed, waiting for him to pull away, but he did the opposite and started to play with a few loose strands of her hair.
They both said nothing, but she could feel him shake slightly, and she let out a long breath. Dimly, in the distance, she heard cheering, but she was too embarrassed to look around and see if it was her friends. She was pretty sure that was Gaila's distinctive wolf-whistle she heard.
"Well," he said finally. "Thank fuck for that."
She couldn't help it; she let out a snort of laughter against his chest.
A little later, the karaoke started.
"Oh no," groaned Janice, who now, after seven or eight shots of kolar was cuddling close to Jim less as a show of affection and more as a means of support.
"You don't like it?" Jim asked.
"It's dire," dismissed Janice. "A lot of drunken idiots crooning love songs to their drunken partners."
Two fingers tipped her chin upwards, and she smiled dazedly at the gorgeous blue eyes above her.
"Hi," she said goofily.
"Hi," he said back, grinning in an equally stupid way. "What was I going to say?"
"Something about karaoke?" Janice hazarded.
He beamed at her.
"You're so clever," he said happily. "I was going to ask, has anybody ever sung to you, Janice?"
"Well, no," she started, but that was enough. He picked up and drained the last remaining glasses of kolar on the bar and kissed her on the forehead.
"Wait here," he said, lifting her onto a barstool. "Watch me."
"Okay," replied Janice, a little bemused as he plunged into the heaving crowd. He disappeared from sight for a while, and as if by magic, Uhura, Gaila and Christine appeared by her side.
"I'm so happy for you!" squealed Gaila, hugging her. "Jim is very good in bed! You'll have a wonderful time!"
"Thanks," Janice said, returning the hug and trying not to laugh. "And thank all of you for the set-up."
"Not a problem," Christine said happily. "We just demand all the dirty details afterwards."
"Good lord, what is that boy doing?" Uhura asked. She had followed Kirk's progress through the crowd and to the stage. "Is he...is he going to sing?"
"Yes," Janice said happily.
At the stage, Jim was in earnest negotiation with one of the band members who shrugged and handed him an acoustic guitar that was propped up against one of the amplifiers.
"I didn't know he could play the guitar," Christine said admiringly.
"He can't," sighed McCoy. "Not well, anyway. But he thinks he's a god-damned virtuoso."
What followed was an aural assault of epic proportions, as Jim murdered "Let's Give Them Something To Talk About" while simultaneously twanging a guitar that was distinctly out of tune. He was booed and cheered with equal measure, but during his performance he never once took his eyes off Janice, who in turn, never stopped smiling at him. Somewhere to the right of her McCoy was filming the whole show, no doubt with later blackmail opportunities in mind.
Despite being drunker than she'd been in a long time, Janice made a mental note to upload the footage from the ship's databanks onto a disk and then delete all evidence of the video. Despite the song being delivered to a whole bar full of drunken people, she knew that this song was only for her.
Click to view Take It From Me - The Weepies
What can I compare you to, when everything looks like you?
I get a bit confused with every Spring
Flowers that bloom your eyes, hummingbirds side by side
My heart won't stay entirely in this rib caging
"You have Shakespeare?"
Janice stopped short, noticing other familiar names among the old-style books stacked haphazardly in front of the bookcase, waiting to be shelved. She glanced quizzically over at the desk where her commanding officer sat, still swamped by the various engineering printouts she'd delivered a few hours back. Lt. Commander Scott had dreamed up some extensive test runs before they shipped out. "I wouldn't have thought you a reader of the classics, sir."
"Yes, well," Kirk licked his lips, a small smile rising on his tired face as he looked up from the paperwork, "you'd be surprised at how handy knowing some Shakespeare can be. The Klingons eat up the dramas-- Hamlet especially-- and the sonnets are appreciated by the ladies, no matter the species."
He gave her the full-out Kirk smirk-- the one she liked to think she'd already developed an immunity to-- and his eyes suddenly seemed bluer. "Shall I compare thee to a summer day, Janice? Thou art more lovely and more temperate."
Despite herself, Janice's breath hitched just a bit, but she met his eyes steadily as she handed over the PADDs she was delivering. "I wonder that you will still be talking, Captain Kirk: nobody marks you."
For a moment, the ready room was silent. She had held back previously when he'd teased her, and maybe-
Kirk guffawed, eyes crinkling as he gave a little salute at her sally. "Well met, my dear Yeoman Disdain! Let me know if you'd like to borrow something-- never know when we'll run into some Klingons waiting to be dazzled by your wit." He smiled again, meeting her eyes for a beat before bending over the PADDs with renewed energy.
It was at that moment, heart still beating slightly too fast, that Janice realized for the first time how truly incomparable Captain James T. Kirk was.
There She Goes - The La's
There she goes
There she goes again
Racing through my brain
And I just can't contain
This feeling that remains
When he was still trying to deny it, Jim blamed it on surprise.
She wasn't quite what he had expected in a yeoman, and it pulled him off balance a bit. That was all there was to it.
First, she showed up at his newly-acquired office at Command-- he hadn't even requested a yeoman-- and tore through the required minutiae like a Klingon on the warpath. His main role there had been to sign whatever she told him to and otherwise stay the hell back. To be honest, Jim had been equal parts impressed and intimidated with her efficiency.
Then, in the lead-up to the Enterprise re-launch, she had opened up a little, and suddenly it became Janice who was rushing in and out of his ready room at all hours, not just a paperwork-destroying Yeoman Rand. She wasn't fazed by his flirting or Chekov's technobabble, and he thinks she might have been responsible for his relatively smooth reception among the older enlisted crew members. He remembers thinking that Spock would have termed her “fascinating”.
Finally underway, still working out the kinks, and she was always there when he most needed and least expected her. She'd show up out of nowhere, flash him that dazzling smile, and let him know that his schedule was clear to go deal with Scotty's latest disaster-cum-act-of-genius. Then she was off again.
She kept surprising him. That was all.
Mr Blue Sky - The Delgados
Sun is shining in the sky,
there ain’t a cloud in sight,
it's stopped raining,
everybody's in a play,
and don't you know?
it's a beautiful new day
Janice woke up the next morning to a feeling of wetness on her face. Lifting her head slightly-- and that hadn't been such a good idea, she realized, as the hammers started-- she identified the wetness as... drool. From Jim.
Despite the headache, she smiled widely at the sight in front of her. Jim was snoring slightly, head buried into a pillow, with hair that could beat Chekov's out any day for sheer craziness. There was a smear of lipstick across half his collar. They'd come back to her room, managed to get their shoes off... and one of Jim's socks, it looked like... before collapsing on the bed. Janice remembered that she hadn't been able to stop giggling the night before, riding high from a combination of the kolar and the kisses they'd exchanged every few seconds after exiting the bar.
She ducked her head into the crook of his neck, enjoying a moment more of warmth before reluctantly scooting out of bed. She'd need a hypo soon to keep her headache from growing into a migraine. Making her way to the bathroom, Janice pulled off her stockings and dress from the night before, pausing slightly when she realized the fabric smelled like Jim-- beneath the alcohol and whatever that local herb was. And God, how was she was still smiling with her head pounding so much?
"You need to pull yourself together and stop grinning like a loon," she told her reflection in the mirror as seriously as she could. "Christine is going to give you so much shit when you knock on her door for a hypo."
Pulling on a pair of sweats and t-shirt, she glanced at the man in the bed. Jim was curled around her pillow, still solidly asleep-- he'd be sleeping it off for a few more hours at least. Above the bed, the window showed a brilliant blue sky, with the system's primary star blazing away. As she headed towards the door, Janice grabbed her running shoes. A beautiful new day like this shouldn't be wasted.
Jim teased her for years about the size of the smile on her face when she returned from her run under the blue sky.
The Reasons - The Weakerthans
I can barely play this thing,
But you never seem to mind,
And you tell me to fuck off
When I need somebody to.
How you make me laugh so hard.
How whole years refuse to stay
Where we told them to, bad dog
The shift in attitude was just as smooth as a turbolift ride, he thought, and just as quietly dramatic. Outside, on the bridge, on an away mission, they were a captain and his yeoman-- friendly, certainly, and as informal as every other relationship Jim had with his crew, but still, in some indefinable way, professionals. Which was how it should be.
Step inside the cabin at the end of the day, though, and suddenly it was... just Jim and Janice.
They were four years into the mission, months slipping by like they were nothing, and Jim still loved being captain, of course. The idea of this gig ever being less than fucking awesome or voluntarily giving up his lovely lady Enterprise was beyond him. But to hang up the gold shirt for a few hours, slouch into the couch, and just chill out with his other girl, well...
Janice would probably give him shit about that thing with the Klingons today, he thought as he palmed the door. Someone had to, and Spock was too busy being just as guilty.
She was already curled up on the couch as he entered, a set of pastels balanced precariously on the sofa's arm and an open drawing pad in her lap. A tendril of blonde hair had escaped its messy bun, trailing down her neck onto the back of the couch.
"Hey Jan," Jim said softly as he crossed the room, not wanting to startle her from her sketch. "Have I told you lately how spectacular you are?"
The Idea of Growing Old - The Features
We can lay around and count the number of times
I've acted foolish and you've rolled your eyes
You turn me on to the idea of growing old
"Well, then," Jim paused, letting the last echos of the argument he'd stopped fade away completely. Pointing fingers wouldn't get them anywhere now. "With that settled, does anyone have a pack of cards? I could teach you guys the trick of bluffing Spock and Uhura-"
"They're outside, sir. With the rest of our equipment," Sulu said sullenly from across the cave. A slight scuffling sound deeper in suggested that the bite in Sulu's comment hadn't gone unnoticed by Ensign Banerjee. Kid would need to work on that reflexive wince.
"There's no light anyways, Captain," Janice said with a bit of a laugh in her voice, sounding closer than he'd thought. He reached out blindly to his right, twining his fingers with hers automatically when their hands met.
"Guess that means charades is out too." Jim gave her a lazy grin, despite the complete black, and felt her squeeze his hand gently in return. "Anyone care to put forth a topic for discussion-- not how we got into this mess, Hikaru-- until the other away party realizes we're behind this rock slide?"
"I've never had the chance to count up the number of missions you've led that have needed to be rescued, Jim,” Janice chimed in. “That could whittle away some time, especially if Hikaru pitches in with some of the... colorful factoids that never end up in the reports I send back to Fleet."
“Niggling little details, Janice. Not important enough for an official Starfleet mission debriefing.” Thank God for his perceptive yeoman and her ability to keep the mood light, despite their FUBAR situation. Maybe the next however-many-hours would be bearable, even with Sulu's sulking and the petrified Ensign.
The Cave - Mumford & Sons
Because I need freedom now
And I need to know how
To live my life as it's meant to be
...
And I'll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways
I'll know my name as it's called again
He hadn’t understood.
Janice tilted her head slightly. Jim was curled up on the other side of the bed, his back to her. Deep, even breaths, a lie as obvious as the space between them.
She hadn’t-- it wasn’t about leaving. Not the Enterprise, not Jim.
Eyes closed, she slowly unclenched her fingers. They’d been fighting a bit lately. Nothing important, nothing she could even remember the next day. He’d asked if that was why. She hadn’t even known how to respond.
She needed to prove it to herself, that she could hack the Academy, that she, Janice Rand, could become an officer, that she could do it well on her own.
She wouldn’t have had the strength to apply without him. But he didn’t understand that.
Boots Of Spanish Leather - Tyler Hilton & Alexa Dirks (Bob Dylan cover)
I got a letter on a lonesome day
It was from her ship a-sailin'
Saying I don't know when I'll be comin' back again
It depends on how I'm a-feelin'.
Jim knew he was being ridiculous. Bones would probably have said something about infants, and grown men sulking, and maybe given him that buddy punch in the shoulder-- which still fricken’ stung, by the way. So Jim was hanging out-- not hiding-- on the floor of Observation Lounge Three, lights at five percent as he watched the stars pass by overhead.
He didn't have a right to be angry, and he wasn't, not really. They'd agreed, he remembered. Even with the accelerated program for the enlisted crew, it was a long time for promises. And it wasn't like she'd forgotten him or anything. This was the eighth com in as many weeks. And he should be glad for the opportunity Janice was getting-- had earned, in fact.
Jim rubbed his hand along the rough carpet as he tracked a white dwarf in a nearby system, watching until it disappeared from sight. She'd been so happy, telling him about the new Ops specialty created by the admiralty especially for the newer Constellation-class ships. Objectively, he understood the need. Hell, he and Spock had submitted a report after their first year, explaining in small words how the logistics of a ship with over 1,000 crew members couldn't be managed effectively by just the captain and his first officer.
But. At least an eighteen months of extra training, maybe more, she didn't know for sure yet. All said in this cheerful tone, like it was nothing, followed in the next breath by questions about what he and the rest of the bridge crew wanted in their care package.
Jim sighed, and stood up slowly. Spock or Bones would come hunting him soon. Sulk time over, he decided, still looking out at the stars.
It was just that, well, there was only one thing on Earth he actually wanted.
No Air - Jordin Sparks featuring Chris Brown
I walked, I ran, I jumped, I flew
Right off the ground to float to you
With no gravity to hold me down for real
Janice's homesickness for the Enterprise and its captain hit her like a brick during a first-year lecture on uncontrolled decompression in vacuum environments.
They'd been six months out when they'd encountered an uncharted asteroid field. Janice had been unlucky, caught in the cargo bay when a surprisingly fast tiny planetoid had smashed into the ship's hull and breached it.
All the air had sucked out of her lungs, just like the Academy instructor was describing. She'd grabbed a handhold, but mere human reaction time was far slower than the laws of physics and she'd been wrenched away, hurtling towards the suck of cold space, and just as she was about to panic...
...a hand caught her, and a forcefield sealed the breach, and she was suddenly, gratefully able to suck in a deep breath and turn towards...
...the bluest eyes this side of the Alpha quadrant. Jim Kirk grinned at her as they floated, waiting for the gravity to come back on, tugging her closer and shamelessly using the excuse to wrap an arm around her waist.
"Got you," he teased, like it was no big deal.
In the windowless Academy classroom, Janice put her head down on her desk so that no one could see her cry.
Beautiful Mess - Diamond Rio
What a beautiful mess I'm in.
Spendin' all my time with you,
There's nothin' else I'd rather do.
What Jim missed most was the way she would look at him-- usually with a mix of irritation and amusement-- and then smile.
It was an open, honest smile, whether she was indulging one of his whims or not. She never tried to hide what she was thinking.
After the first week or so she'd been on board, Jim had become adept at hiding what he was thinking. Not that he wanted any of this mess, but some things were beyond his control. So he'd tamped down the fondness which had progressed to less-than-brotherly affection which had in turn become full-fledged lust when he'd realized that that look and that smile were meant only for him.
In the end, she'd been the absolute last person on board to realize exactly what he'd been keeping to himself.
Jim grinned, remembering that moment, and her look, and her dawning smile.
How Do You Do - Cascada
Do your caress, honey, my heart's in a mess.
I love your blue-eyed voice, like Tiny Tim shines thru.
How do you do!
How do you do the things that you do?
No one I know could ever keep up with you.
Secretly, privately, in a way that revealed the coarse shallows of her personality, Janice would admit it:
Jim Kirk was a SEX GOD.
She'd seen him go hand-to-hand against three renegade Klingons, head back to the bridge to spend four hours brokering the resulting ceasefire agreement, run down six decks to celebrate some ensign's birthday, and then find Janice wherever she was and literally sweep her off her feet and carry her to his cabin where he would UTTERLY AND COMPLETELY SATIATE EVERY SEXUAL CRAVING SHE'D EVER HAD.
Janice wasn't a prude; she liked men and had always enjoyed dating. But Jim Kirk was so far out of her usual orbit that he was practically in another solar system.
Of course, Earth's sun would go nova before she ever admitted that to anyone, let alone him.
It just made things even more difficult than they already were. It was hard enough trying to be sensible. That's what they'd decided to call it when she was leaving, being sensible-- she was going to be at the Academy for four years, surrounded by hundreds of brilliant, handsome young cadets, and he, well, he might have to seduce another crazy alien chick into not commandeering the ship and turning the crew into little blocks of salt. So they were being sensible, and not making promises.
When she was alone late at night, though, she would acknowledge the truth. Jim Kirk was OUTSTANDING.
Something To Talk About - Bonnie Raitt
Now that we know it,
Let's really show it, darlin'
Let's give them something to talk about
Graduation day for Janice felt like a relief rather than a triumph. She wasn't a fresh-faced young cadet; she'd served before and new exactly what she was getting into.
So she hadn't made a fuss. A few friends had sent her congratulations via subspace, but she hadn't asked her family or anyone else to attend the graduation ceremony. She smiled through it with a certain amount of satisfaction and then went out to chat with her fellow graduates, taking pictures of them with their parents, and having a nice, if not exciting, time.
The graduating class had booked one of the off-campus bars for the night, and she'd gone to that too, wanting to be sociable. After all, she only had one graduation.
After her third drink, though, she was about ready to pack it in for the night, and decided that a quick detour through the crowd to the bathroom was the best plan before the walk back to campus.
When she came out of the ladies', though, it was as if something had changed. The party was louder, more raucous. People seemed excited.
Curious, Janice peered around her as she headed back to the bar, wondering what had injected even more life into the party.
Wait. Was that Nyota Uhura? She turned in the direction of the flash of black and red, but the figure had slipped through the crowd.
Strange. Maybe what she needed was sleep. Enterprise was nowhere near Earth; she knew that, and besides--
"Hello, Janice." An arm curled around her waist, tugging in a too-familiar way.
"Ji-- Captain!"
James Kirk smiled down at her. "Congratulations, Lieutenant."
"What are you doing here?"
"Like I'd miss your graduation." He leaned down, drawing her closer.
"Everyone can see!" she hissed.
"So?" He shrugged. "You're not a cadet anymore; you're not serving under me despite my offer to--"
"That wasn't exactly a Starfleet-approved incentive," she told him.
His grin widened, and she knew he was about to make one of his leaps.
"Jim..." was all she managed.
And then his mouth was on hers, and it had been so long, too long... She barely registered the whoops and cheers around her as she wound an arm around his neck to pull him as close as she needed him to be.
When they broke apart, gasping for air, she realized that everyone was staring at them. Everyone. Dozens, maybe even hundreds of her classmates, and yes, that was the entire senior staff of the Enterprise crowded around, all with identical knowing grins on their faces.
She looked up at Jim. "You had to do this. The legendary Captain Kirk shows up at their graduation party. They'll be telling this story for years."
"Well, in that case," he said.
"Jim--"
He raised his voice. "The next round is on me!"
Another roar went up from the crowd, and Janice would have blushed if she weren't completely immune to him at this point.
"Let's make sure they tell the story right," he said in a low voice.
"What--?"
And then he scooped her up in his arms, kissed her, and carried her through the parting crowd out of the bar.