After he had... spoken with, needed with,
something with the elder Spock, brought him back to the city and got him settled, Kirk found himself feeling lost. At ends. Bones wasn't in their quarters, so he got rid of the clothing he had put back on after being in the house in the wilderness straight into the trash. He didn't want to bother with
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He didn't know what the message meant, but he knew it wasn't good. Knew that if nothing he could imagine made any sense, it had to be something he couldn't. And that was bad. He also knew that the message had been sent from the quarters assigned Jim and McCoy here, and it had been sent minutes ago, and that he was in easy walking distance.
He didn't think the younger man would mind if he just showed up. And if he did, well, he could tell Jim off, and then Jim would at least know more than he did now.
But no one answered the door, and Jim stood for a few minutes looking around. Night had fallen, and the sky was that indigo it reached before it darkened to black. Perhaps Jim had stepped outside; he circled the building to the beach, seeing a lone figure silhouetted against the sea.
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He had traveled among them, been on some, but there was still a raw beauty in the night time sky that he had loved as a child, shivered beneath as a teenager, and knew he would rule as an adult. Funny, how some things worked out.
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He came to rest beside Kirk and sat, quietly looking up at the stars for a moment.
"Jim," he murmured, glancing over.
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"...Jim." Kirk finally said in a way of greeting, arms wrapped around his knee.
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