(Untitled)

[youwereameteor]

Jim Kirk has always been a runner, in one way or another. He ran away from home more than once when he was a kid (although he never got as far as George did, until right at the very end). At the Academy, he ran laps around the campus, runing longer and harder than he ever should have done, pushing himself. He was never built for distance like

Comments

[gate_expert]

Sam was out for a run as well. Sometimes she ran with Jennifer, sometimes with the general, but occasionally alone when she wanted to push herself without looking like a fourth year cadet. She had barely got going good when she passed a guy bent over, looking at the ground, and after a moment she turned around and jogged back.

"You okay?"

[youwereameteor]

"Just catching my breath," says Jim, squinting up at her and grinning, breathlessly. There are things that he isn't even going to talk to Reid about, so he's not about to talk to the hot blonde he's never met.

"I've always had a tendency to push myself harder than I have to."

[gate_expert]

"And here I thought I was the only one." She was kidding of course; she spent over a decade working with serious overachivers and her father was perhaps the biggest overachiever she'd known. "Just checking. You looked a little winded there."

[youwereameteor]

"Out of shape," says Jim, straightening up and stretching one arm up over his head. "Apparently, a month of snow is enough to completely screw me up."

[poison_lipstick]

Saffron was walking along at an unhurried pace, sandals swinging from one hand and the skirt of her sundress fluttering a little in the breeze, just enjoying the return of the warm weather when the guy caught her attention. He was definitely good-looking, but that wasn't why she stopped - she wasn't on the prowl anymore, not like she used to be. Not since Warrick had disappeared, and maybe even before that. It was an unexpected change, one she never thought would happen.

No, this guy caught her attention because of the way he'd looked up at the sky. Saffron was still as observant as ever, and she knew that look. "Looking up there will never be the same as being up there, will it," she said conversationally, tilting her face up towards the sky.

[youwereameteor]

"No, ma'am," says Jim, wiping the sweat from his forehead and looking over at her. His t-shirt is sticking against his shoulders, and it's undeniably pleasant; that awareness of exersion.

"Doesn't stop me dreaming, though."

[poison_lipstick]

As much as she hated the island's two large drawbacks - disappearances of people she'd actually come to care about and the presence of a certain ex-husband and his lackeys - she actually liked it there, for the most part. But Saffron still sorely missed being out in the black. It was a little harder to say you can't take the sky from me when all she could do was look up at it.

"I come out here at night, sometimes. Just stand here and look up at the stars, and remember being out among them," she said, tearing her gaze from the expanse of blue above them to look back over at the guy. "Did you have your own ship?"

[youwereameteor]

"Nearly. Sort of. It was kind of complicated," says Jim, still looking up at the sky. "Yeah, we come out here. My boyfriend, he's never been to space, but he loves it...the idea of it? I think I'm sorrier for him than me, some days."

[percevalian]

Reid does not exercise. Ever. And while he can't deny appreciating the end results of Jim's efforts, it's still entirely beyond him why anyone would find running a pleasant pastime.

That said, when he spies Jim ahead, he can still tell at fifty paces that something is off. It's in the slope of Jim's shoulders, the way he's pushed himself hard enough that he has to stop in the first place.

"What are you running from?" he casually asks upon approach, hands deep in his pockets of his cut-off khakis, knobby knees pale beneath.

[youwereameteor]

Jim's been with Reid for long enough that he's used to the occasional loaded question; it's an occasional glimpse of the profiler. He glances up at Reid, taking in the khakis that started off life on his bedroom floor this morning.

"You," he says, smiling, breatless. "I'd have thought that was obvious."

[percevalian]

For a long moment Reid watches him carefully, saying nothing. There's always a kernel of truth to those sort of jokes, and maybe it's morally wrong to profile his boyfriend without his consent, but if he can't use those skills in moments like this, what good are they?

"Really?" he asks, utterly serious, eyes fixed on Jim.

[youwereameteor]

Jim straightens up and steps in, into Reid's personal space and studies him for a moment. He shakes his head, just barely.

"No," he says. "Not really. What've you been up to?"