More commentfic
So: This is going on:
and I wrote this for it. "Infinite Diversity," rated PG-13, I guess, for innuendo, Jim + Winona, very short, at least moderately amusing in my own head.
ETA: Journal was deleted; story behind cut. Thank goodness that I save emails.
Jim shifted in his chair. "So, uh, Mom. The, uh, dark-haired guy in all the holos with me? Dr. McCoy? We're--well. Together." Why was this so hard? It wasn't as if his mother really had a say about anything in his life; he was twenty-fucking-five years old, after all. They'd just barely started talking again after the Battle of Vulcan, and he'd thought it was about time--or maybe ten years late--to, well, come out. To his mother. And tell her about Bones, while he was at it.
"Oh, thank God" was his mother's unexpected response. "You kept bringing girls home--I thought you'd turned out like your father--" She clapped a hand over her mouth. "Wait. That's not what I'm supposed to say, right? I'm supposed to say, 'Congratulations!' and 'I'm your mother; of course I love you' and things like that."
"Wait, what?" Jim said. "Dad--"
"God, your father was so straight you could draw lines with him. I didn't even know the Kinsey scale went into negative numbers before I met him."
"What?" He couldn't--what on earth--was she saying that-- "Mom, there's nothing wrong with--"
"Oh, I know, but we could have had a lot more fun if only--Well. Anyway. I'm sure you don't want to hear that."
"Not really, no. But, hey, IDIC, right?" Although normally he didn't like to think of infinite combinations as involving his mother.
"Ha. Yes. Well, then, congratulations to you and your doctor, and, uh, thanks for telling me?"
Winona Kirk was nervous, he realized, and that's why she kept babbling. "Thanks, Mom. And thanks for telling me, although I really didn't want to think about what kind of antics you and Dad could have gotten up to if only he'd been a little less hetero."
"Oh, there was this cadet . . ." Winona trailed off. "Well. Never mind that. He's an admiral now."
"Mom!"
and I wrote this for it. "Infinite Diversity," rated PG-13, I guess, for innuendo, Jim + Winona, very short, at least moderately amusing in my own head.
ETA: Journal was deleted; story behind cut. Thank goodness that I save emails.
Jim shifted in his chair. "So, uh, Mom. The, uh, dark-haired guy in all the holos with me? Dr. McCoy? We're--well. Together." Why was this so hard? It wasn't as if his mother really had a say about anything in his life; he was twenty-fucking-five years old, after all. They'd just barely started talking again after the Battle of Vulcan, and he'd thought it was about time--or maybe ten years late--to, well, come out. To his mother. And tell her about Bones, while he was at it.
"Oh, thank God" was his mother's unexpected response. "You kept bringing girls home--I thought you'd turned out like your father--" She clapped a hand over her mouth. "Wait. That's not what I'm supposed to say, right? I'm supposed to say, 'Congratulations!' and 'I'm your mother; of course I love you' and things like that."
"Wait, what?" Jim said. "Dad--"
"God, your father was so straight you could draw lines with him. I didn't even know the Kinsey scale went into negative numbers before I met him."
"What?" He couldn't--what on earth--was she saying that-- "Mom, there's nothing wrong with--"
"Oh, I know, but we could have had a lot more fun if only--Well. Anyway. I'm sure you don't want to hear that."
"Not really, no. But, hey, IDIC, right?" Although normally he didn't like to think of infinite combinations as involving his mother.
"Ha. Yes. Well, then, congratulations to you and your doctor, and, uh, thanks for telling me?"
Winona Kirk was nervous, he realized, and that's why she kept babbling. "Thanks, Mom. And thanks for telling me, although I really didn't want to think about what kind of antics you and Dad could have gotten up to if only he'd been a little less hetero."
"Oh, there was this cadet . . ." Winona trailed off. "Well. Never mind that. He's an admiral now."
"Mom!"