Who: Hermione Granger and the residents of Wes's house
What: Checking up on a friend
Where: ...Wes's house. And maybe Dok's too.
When: First thing Saturday morning
Why: Because public forum posts can make a person worry.
(
Irrational fears weren't really her forte. )
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No, it had to be something different. Hadn't Wes told her that he lived and worked... on a starship? Was that what he meant? It would put the 'First' that he almost said earlier into context, too... but only if he were the Captain of the ship. (After all, he'd started to say "his first mate.")
That was a lot to surmise, though, and he didn't seem to forthcoming about it, so once again, she let it go. However, the admission did tell her something else. "Which means you're from the future, too," she said, reaching around him and turning the knob that operated the gas burner. It clicked a few times before the pilot lit and the flames burst into being. "Am I right?"
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Not that he had any right to keep calling Wes a kid, he was probably only a few years younger than himself.
He put the kettle on the lit burner and glared at Hermione. Not that it was her fault he was really mad at Wes. But damn it, why did this shit always fall in his lap.
"I'm going to kill him. Really I'm going to kill him, you don't screw with timelines." he groaned, "And telling people you're from the future, screws with timelines."
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She studied him for a moment. "You... traveled through time before this, didn't you?" she guessed. "You wouldn't think about 'screwing with the timelines' if you hadn't..."
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His brow furrowed as he tried to parse what he just said into something resembling sense.
"And, that made absolutely no sense to anyone but me didn't it?"
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"The guy that killed the butterfly well, he's dead. But someone came back to try and stop the guy that killed the butterfly. He's the only reason I knew of the other timeline before I met Wes. But the damage was done anyway and our timelines had split." he massaged his forehead "or at least, we assumed they split, there's really no way to get back to the other one to tell."
He groaned, "Temporal mechanics make my head hurt, I can do 'em but I need a beer afterward."
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But not anything she could deal with right at the moment. "You may have a beer, if you want," she said. "Even if it is first thing in the morning. However, I will not be able to join you in having one, myself."
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He smirked at the change of subject and gestured to her belly, "Well, yeah."
"Oh, I have an idea, wanna have some fun with Wes?"
Yep, crazy Kirk was back, he got the kind of look on his face that usually made Bones run for the extra hyposprays.
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And... somehow the conversation had come back to her rather apparent pregnancy. Which was, admittedly, her own fault. So she gave him a wry smile, which faded into a look of suspicion as a sort of manic gleam appeared in his eye.
"...define 'fun'."
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At that, he walked over to the phone on the wall and called the number Wes had left on a piece of paper. It really was amazing how some technology, the basic design, or at least user interface had pretty much stayed the same. It was different than the coms, obviously, but the input method and ideas behind it really hadn't changed over the centuries.
When Wes picked up, he put on his most serious captain tone, all the while making a somewhat silly face to Hermione.
"So, Wes, you wanna explain why I have a clear violation of the Prime Directive standing in my kitchen drinking tea?"
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"What in the--?" He grumbled, cut off by Kirk's greeting. "...A what? What are you talking about?" His tone was half way between confused and incredulous. "Are you drunk or something?" Sure, that was maybe a bit mean, but it was early, Wes had been working on something until rather late, and he was looking forward to sleeping in.
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Kirk just smirked, and winked at Hermione "Anyway, I have a very pregnant Prime Directive violation, of the temporal kind. Standing in the kitchen drinking tea. They do have the Prime Directive in your day don't they? Or have they replaced it with something new and shiny?"
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Oh for Cochrane's sake...'
"First of all, it's not mine, and there's at least three doctors in this town that can vouch for that. Second of all, how is having friends a violation of the Prime Directive and third of all why is there alcohol in my house?" He sat up, swinging his legs over the bed and stretching with his one free arm.
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