Been writing DNSB (hooray!) and seem to have scooted from the right track. They keep flirting with everyone! This has to stop! Help me, Obi Wan Kenobi. Shake my mind out of this, these guys are driving me mad
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In the Middle (you had to give me a 3-some prompt...)kianspoAugust 18 2010, 21:28:49 UTC
It’s very rare that the three of them are off duty at the same time. The best they can hope for most weeks are a couple of shared meals or an occasional coffee break. Of course, Spock doesn’t drink coffee, and Bones doesn’t do chess, and the last time they were all free for dinner together happened about a month ago. But Jim doesn’t give up hope that a breather will come at some point. And this moment, right now, is precious
( ... )
It’s a peculiar sensation, just on the periphery of his mind. It’s so subtle and discreet that sometimes Spock cannot tell the exact moment of its inception. He takes a breath and lets it out, and the feeling is there, teasing him with something he can only describe as sfumato.
Intangible. Indistinguishable to the eye.
Like a shadow crossing the face of a sunny afternoon for a split second only; or a blow of wind that tickles the skin, but doesn’t stir a banner hanging loosely from a nearby window; or a small stone disturbing a slumbering pond with a drop of gold dispersing in the indigo.
Spock turns his head and Jim Kirk is there. Joking with his crew, signing reports, reading, laughing. Spock returns to his duties, but the feeling remains, lingering.
Very nice, thank you! It feels, at first, almost like a delve into paranoia, and then takes a nice turn for something more sweet and lovely, especially with the beautiful imagery in the third to last paragraph. And the way you worded that paragraph is art as well.
Chris eyes the security officer with tamed incredulity.
“Cuffs, Chief? Seriously?”
“He was resisting arrest.”
“I was not,” Spock protests.
“Quiet, Cadet,” Chris orders, whipping him with his eyes.
Spock bows his head, and Chris suppresses a smirk.
“Thank you, Chief,” he says in as grave a tone as he can. “I’ll take it from here.”
“Sir.” The guard salutes and stalks away without waiting for a repeat invitation.
Spock looks up warily, meets Chris’s eyes, blushes, looks away.
“Let’s take it from the top, shall we?” Chris says strictly. “Of all the people I expected to try and pull a stunt like this, I couldn’t imagine to see you here.”
Spock is silent; a tender blush is spilling softly on his cheeks like an ink stain. Chris bites his lip and reaches past Spock to examine the data chip the security guard has confiscated. Spock’s head dips lower.
“I can’t believe this,” Chris admits quite honestly. “You trying to steal the questions for the next test? You, Spock? You aced every single one of them. What possessed you to
( ... )
We do need more Pike/Spock, but we also need another author working with this pairing. I love them dearly, but I'm writing in a vacuum. That's... not healthy. >.<
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“I, on the other hand, find it typical of you to concentrate on the irrelevant at the most inopportune moment.”
“This might be the last time I concentrate on anything, Spock. I don’t give a damn if it’s relevant or not.”
“Try to reach the knot, Doctor.”
“I can’t reach the goddamn knot, Spock! And even if I could, they tied us too well. Wonder if they find your skinny bones as tasty as my poor hide.”
“Your lack of productivity will never cease to amaze me, Doctor. Can you feel that?”
“That you?”
“Indeed. Pull at the string.”
“Trying. Dammit!”
“Just another inch. You are progressing admirably, Doctor.”
“Oh, shut up. This is all your fault, by the way.”
“I do not remember inviting you to this expedition. In fact, I distinctly recall ordering you to stay at the camp.”
“Yeah, yeah. And let you wander here all alone. If Jim were here, he’d never-”
“He is not here, Doctor. Fortunately. Pull at this string.”
“Ouch! Sorry, Spock.”
“It is all right.”
“Dammit. Oh,God damn it, I can’t ( ... )
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In the middle
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Intangible. Indistinguishable to the eye.
Like a shadow crossing the face of a sunny afternoon for a split second only; or a blow of wind that tickles the skin, but doesn’t stir a banner hanging loosely from a nearby window; or a small stone disturbing a slumbering pond with a drop of gold dispersing in the indigo.
Spock turns his head and Jim Kirk is there. Joking with his crew, signing reports, reading, laughing. Spock returns to his duties, but the feeling remains, lingering.
A ripple.
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Again, amazing. I was drawn right into it. :-)
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“You didn’t find him,” Spock says at last.
Chris sighs. “No. I did look though."
Always trying, not always succeeding. It says so much of Chris that he keeps that stone, and so much of Spock that he makes that stone sing for Chris.
Thank you so much!
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“Cuffs, Chief? Seriously?”
“He was resisting arrest.”
“I was not,” Spock protests.
“Quiet, Cadet,” Chris orders, whipping him with his eyes.
Spock bows his head, and Chris suppresses a smirk.
“Thank you, Chief,” he says in as grave a tone as he can. “I’ll take it from here.”
“Sir.” The guard salutes and stalks away without waiting for a repeat invitation.
Spock looks up warily, meets Chris’s eyes, blushes, looks away.
“Let’s take it from the top, shall we?” Chris says strictly. “Of all the people I expected to try and pull a stunt like this, I couldn’t imagine to see you here.”
Spock is silent; a tender blush is spilling softly on his cheeks like an ink stain. Chris bites his lip and reaches past Spock to examine the data chip the security guard has confiscated. Spock’s head dips lower.
“I can’t believe this,” Chris admits quite honestly. “You trying to steal the questions for the next test? You, Spock? You aced every single one of them. What possessed you to ( ... )
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