Nyota

“ I’m counting on it. ” Playful wink, curved and crooked smile that allows a glimpse of the boy who thrives on the fight: adrenaline rush well controlled, a discipline equally matched with thrill. “ — best way to learn, and best way to teach, ” he says, “ — and if we get a couple of bruises out of it, well, guess you can call it progress. ” 

( Words full with experience, a story perhaps shared for another time. He can barely count the bruises that come - blooms against skin that tell of a good hit and a promise of ache. Too many tell of a fist too fast, and a block too slow. )

“ We’ll work with some standard stuff first, see how you go - then comes the tricky part. Hitting the floor. ” A finality in a sense in what he says; a nod towards where the balance truly shifts and quick movements can turn the tide to victory. To fall was not the end, but rather, the next stage – for those lucky at least, to know what to do. 

     “If we DON’T get bruises from this, I would say we didn’t try hard enough.” She laughs, a warm smile lifting her features. She’s looking forward to this more, now. She can already feel a little adrenaline pumping through her system, the thrill of having an opponent that would actually train properly with her flooding her veins.

     “Sounds great, thank you so much. I know I’ve got a lot to learn, but I think I’ve got the basics down.” Well, she’s proved a few times she’s got the basics down. But that doesn’t mean that going over them again won’t be appreciated. The more practice she gets, the better.

“what gave it away?  my sunny disposition or the slime – ” kirk shakes his hands, slinging iridescent goo everywhere “ – trail leading all the way back to the transporter room?”

so, really, it hadn’t gone THAT badly.  a miscommunication when he’d sneezed his way through  a complicated vocal pattern.  the llucholians had been delighted by his blunder, mistaking it for a celebration.  kirk sighs heavily, squashing down his irritation.  “it’s an easy fix.  i’ll just need your help with it?  after i shower?”  because this is gross.  “can’t say i’ll be adding SNOT to the list of bodily fluids it’s okay to be covered in.”

     “... maybe a little of both?” Nyota bites down on her lower lip to stop herself sniggering when he tries to shake off some more slime. it’s dripping off of him, honestly, and it smells pretty bad. 

It was this particular side of Nyota’s personally that Scotty had always admired; her ability to look authority in the eye and say no, when she didn’t agree with a decision or something she considered unjust. While she was a kind and genuine soul who was proud of her femininity, she wasn’t afraid to stick it to the man when it was required of her. It was an admirable quality which had her ascend to bridge crew in a matter of months, and secured her a place as an integral part of their crew. They had been through a lot together. This was just one more obstacle. 

Looking up as they entered the huge dry dock, where the frame of the new Enterprise-A was beginning to take form, the engineer felt his heart flutter a little as he laid eyes on her. She was just as beautiful as he’d envisioned she would be; the perfect home for his precious bairn; for them all; a safer, more durable place to live while they sailed amongst the stars. One thing was for certain, he would never allow what happened on Altamid to ever happen again while he was chief engineer. “Gods… She’s beautiful, Nyota…” 

      Nyota doesn’t ever want Scotty to feel like she finds him in ANY way ‘crazy’. They’ve been through so much together, have seen so much, and that has ingrained him firmly into her life in a way that cannot be severed. Least of all by the words of some bureaucrats that know nothing about what it’s like to be part of a CREW. Their bond is firm, all of them, and she would never want to lose Scotty. 

As his afternoon shift concludes, Spock has every intention of retiring to his quarters to take a respite from his duties in order to once again be able to perform at his maximum capacity. However, as he passes the mess hall, a familiar figure catches his eye, and, despite his better judgement, he finds himself changing his course.

As his presence is noted with an invitation, he gives a slight inclination of his head. “I would not be opposed to it, Lieutenant. Thank you.” He takes a seat across the table from her.

“Anything of interest?” he inquires, his eyes taking note of the text displayed on the other’s PADD. He has become accustomed to exchanging the conventional inquiries and pleasantries - it was, after all, a necessary bonding experience among the crew that seemed to increase their efficiency. This time, however, he finds himself genuinely interested, and it catches him off guard.

      She feels her lips tug upwards when he takes a seat, admittedly a little surprised to see him here after his shift. Usually he retires right away, to go and relax in... whatever way it is he enjoys relaxing. 

      For a moment, she sets her PADD aside and reaches for the tea, pouring him out a cup as he sinks into the seat opposite her. 

     “No problem at all.” She hums, sliding it across to Spock before she leans back in her seat and casts a glance at her PADD when he speaks again.

     “Sherlock Holmes. I read them all when I was a teenager, but... Something made me want to pick them up again.” 

      She closes down the PADD, though, locking it so that she can reach across for her own cup instead. She’s not going to read with him sitting opposite her, after all. That’d be pretty rude. 

SHE MADE A BEELINE FOR Nyota when she heard her call out, hardly caring who stood in the way. They’d stand aside if they didn’t want to get stepped on, and no one wanted to get stepped on. She considered that an efficient way to get through life. ❝I am well, Nyota Uhura. Seeing you again is good, but I did not think it would be in this place.❞

          She’s right. Leonard knows she’s right. But admitting it feels a little too much like salt in a wound (and dammit if Leonard has never know when to properly give up on Jim Kirk). Gritting his teeth, McCoy shoots another scathing glare in the captain’s direction, muttering too low for anyone but Uhura to hear, “…he only does this when he’s seriously injured, Nyota. I’ve seen it a hundred times. He’d rather bleed t’death than admit to that kind of weakness.”

          He’s trying to sound as furious as he feels, but beneath that veneer of outrage lurks real fear. Leonard has made a career out of saving Jim despite the other man’s self-destructive tendencies; he lives in dread of the day that his efforts simply aren’t enough.

           Finally, the CMO returns his gaze to Uhura, watching her stiffly for a long moment before finally nodding his assent. In a furtive gesture, Len slips a pre-loaded hypo into her hand. “…if it gets bad, and he won’t see reason… knock him out, and comm me. I’ll come runnin’…” 

     “I know, Leonard...” She sighs, casting a subtle glance over her shoulder at where there Captain tries to keep focused on whatever it is he’s deemed important enough to ignore medical care for. “And I really don’t think that he’ll ever change, in that sense. Self preservation seems to be very low down on his list of priorities.” 

      She can understand fully why Leonard is so worried. Jim does IMMENSELY stupid things all the time, recklessly ignores the advice of a man TRAINED to keep him safe, and then acts defensive when called out on it. It’s like dealing with a petulant child, sometimes.

     “Commander,” She greets, looking up from her PADD when he comes to stand across from where she’s seated. She’s off duty, reading a book she’d downloaded last time they were on Earth, and it would seem he’s just clocked off for the day, as well. She offers him a smile and points to the side table at her left, tilting her head. “I’ve made some tea. Would you like some?” 

“ alright, ” grin, excitement - the kind that comes from a man well versed on moving on the mat. “ after a warm up, we’ll look at your form first, ” play - tongue in cheek with recognised merit and mettle. as he speaks, he lifts a hand, fist curled in a ‘knock’-like form and taps at his cheek “ – i’ll let you get a couple of hits in, and we’ll see what we can do from there. ” 

little opportunity, he knows that - for some officers to really train, to really fight ( better - explorers and the curious are what they are. a soldier is something else - at least, for most ). but, sulu also knows the ease in skip and shift - light jump to security and fight that comes with unstoppable forces and immovable objects. 

uhura is definitely that, he thinks. 

     “You SURE you want to let me hit you? I’m tougher than I look.” She’s grinning-- giving away the playfulness of her words if it wasn’t already abundantly clear. She wouldn’t be swinging on him full force, after all, this is a sparring session not an actual fight. But, she has to admit, the prospect of having a sparring partner that actually knows what he’s doing is exhilarating. Nyota is GOOD at hand-to-hand combat. She’s trained herself, practiced for years. But Sulu is something else entirely, and she can’t wait to learn from him. 

smut prompts || accepting || @fasciinating

she returns & the waft of TEA LEAVES is not far behind. a scent of red spices threads through his thoughts, calming the noise of nature at its smallest scales of energy; an infinite level of atoms & subatomic particles. nyota claims to SHARE his interest, lifting Spock’s chin in her direction. he takes the cup, fingers gliding around its ceramic curve. it feels WARM on his skin. as does this simple feeling.  “ it is an IMPRESSIVE argument. ” Spock replaces his padd in his lap with the cup in his hands, “ however, i would prefer to discern its fallacies myself rather than by opinion alone. ” his eyes slight, regarding Nyota carefully, “ perhaps, you would care to JOIN ME in the lab at a later date to see for yourself. if the subject TRULY interests you, of course. ” 

      Nyota enjoys these quiet moments they have together. where they’ve no responsibilities besides those they bear to each other. where they can simply enjoy being in each other’s company. and she especially enjoys them when Spock speaks of ANYTHING that he enjoys. the soft but pleased expression on his face as he discusses science or plants, or anything that has taken his fancy that day... it is something she could listen to forever. 

“ Uhura! my HERO. ” Jim smiles impishly. as impressively frustrated as he is, he doesn’t mind her laughing at him. she must be one of the few. he finishes her water for her and slides it deep across the counter, taps the table twice, swallows, and holds up two fingers for the glancing bartender, who is currently mid-order, “ i always feel like such a TOOL at these things, i ju- ” he turns his face and squints at her in a reflective expression of distaste, confident her calculation of the pompous crowd is spot on, and quite comfortable to bitch openly about the last three hours of his life if she’s willing to hear it.

“ no one needs to own an entire inhabitable planet for the storage space. do they realize how many displaced people could utilize the resources there? plenty to go around and assholes like that are still clambering for safety nets after Nero. well, there’s safety then there’s GREED and it pisses me off. ”

     “your knight in hooped earrings.” she jokes back, a grin drawn across her features.

      honestly, her and Jim bitching about something or someone isn’t an uncommon sight. she finds it easy to voice her distaste in things with Jim, because more often than not they share the same opinion on the matter at hand. she nods when he talks, sighing softly as she glances around them. the next room over is where all the politicians and leaders seem to have remained, the bar is filled with people like them. trying to escape mundane conversations and pointless posturing that gets nobody anywhere. it’s frustrating, and a lot of the time, it’s DISGUSTING.