Captain James T. Kirk (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
mr_enterprise) wrote2017-11-18 05:03 pm
mr_enterprise) wrote2017-11-18 05:03 pm
You Can't Go Home Again [for primelogic]
As promised, the retired captain's Nexus apartment is only a short walk from the party at the cafe. The lobby of the complex is somewhat busy, with costumed children being escorted around the local businesses with their parents in tow, but once the lift takes the couple up to the tenth floor, there is blessed silence.
Jim's apartment is a little smaller than the one he once had as an admiral, with fewer things to fill in the empty spaces. The walls hold only a few paintings and none of the antique weaponry he once collected, nor model sailing ships on display, but he does have a few bookshelves that he has been slowly restocking with the classics he's always enjoyed, and his kitchenette is well-stocked with all the necessities. As always, his living space is clean and well-organized, old habits left over from life aboard a starship.
He opens his mouth to say, 'make yourself at home,' before thinking better of it. "Make yourself comfortable," he says instead, hanging up his jacket by the door. As much as he feels he needs to hear what Spock has seen and done in the years since his... disappearance... part of him is also reluctant to leap straight into what is sure to be an emotionally-taxing event, even for someone as tightly controlled as a Vulcan. "Do you want some tea?"
Jim's apartment is a little smaller than the one he once had as an admiral, with fewer things to fill in the empty spaces. The walls hold only a few paintings and none of the antique weaponry he once collected, nor model sailing ships on display, but he does have a few bookshelves that he has been slowly restocking with the classics he's always enjoyed, and his kitchenette is well-stocked with all the necessities. As always, his living space is clean and well-organized, old habits left over from life aboard a starship.
He opens his mouth to say, 'make yourself at home,' before thinking better of it. "Make yourself comfortable," he says instead, hanging up his jacket by the door. As much as he feels he needs to hear what Spock has seen and done in the years since his... disappearance... part of him is also reluctant to leap straight into what is sure to be an emotionally-taxing event, even for someone as tightly controlled as a Vulcan. "Do you want some tea?"
no subject
He'd been expecting this question since the moment it truly sank in what had happened to Vulcan. Is it strange to find a piece of a lost world in a place such as this, he wonders, or inevitable? Whatever the case, if he can offer some small comforts of home, he will do that and more. "It's a small hole-in-the-wall kind of place, deep in the markets, called Shom-Sfek." His pronunciation of the Vulcan language is rusty from long disuse, but Spock should be able to easily interpret the meaning. A resting place at the side of the road, meant for only a brief refuge during a long journey.
"They don't have much, but they carry tea and incense," he continues, "and some cooking spices."
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A Vulcan shop all the way out here? Fascinating. And a travel store, at that. He has to wonder how often the shop is frequented and what sort of journeys it's patrons are on. With so many different worlds at their fingertips it could very well be anywhere or anywhen.
He nods slowly.
"This was once common. Not many federation shops cater to Vulcan cuisine as most species are not strictly vegetarian. They were designed to provide small remnants of home to those travelling off world. As space is something of a premium on ships, it makes sense that their selection would be limited and kept to small items easily packed into one's effects."
Such stores are not common in his time now, for obvious reasons.
"I would like to visit there some time, if you are amenable."
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"I'm more than amenable," he answers, glad that he can at least offer this one thing. So small, not nearly enough to balance the immense depth of loss that Spock must feel, but a light in darkness is a light nonetheless, and worth kindling. "I haven't had much to do besides explore. Old habits die hard."
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Nor would Spock wish to keep him from it either. James Tiberius Kirk lives to see sights no one has seen before. To seek out the new and undiscovered. The bar may have to be lowered slightly to account for their age and new surroundings, but there's nothing saying that exploration is no longer a viable hobby.
"Please, tell me about your exploration here." He wants to hear Jim talk. See the man get lost in his own memories and exploits. Watch him light up and come to life when he speaks of things he's passionate about. They have shared enough sadness for now. Better to appreciate their reunion for what it is.
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And now... now he has someone to share the experience with.
"If we'd found this place on our first five-year mission, we could've spent the entire time here and never even scratched the surface. I've lost count of the number of new species I've met just in the last few months alone." He's missed this, sharing his memories and discoveries with Spock as if he'd just come home from a particularly interesting shore leave on a new planet. "I spent a few hours listening to a singing grove of trees about a week ago. Didn't understand a word of it, but they didn't seem to mind, and it was a beautiful performance. I was thinking about bringing them a recording of something from Earth, if I can find something they'd like."
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They are so very similar and yet...
The Ambassador sets down his now-empty cup before folding his hands back in his lap primly. Doesn't even realize the small smile that's warming his face as he nods along.
Spock has missed this. The one picture he has was never enough. Nothing compared to the man himself sitting next to him brushing Spock's knee with his own to make sure they're touching even when he's got his hands full making those gestures of his.
"I think they would find that a lovely gesture, Jim." So thoughtful and warm with everyone.
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This. This is what's real. And it does not compare for one moment to the smothering, all-consuming happiness that the nexus tried to give him. Despite the pain and the sorrow that have made their mark in those aged features, this is home. They're things we carry with us, the things that make us who were are... if we lose them, we lose ourselves. His own words, as true now as they were then.
"Maybe you could come along with me," he suggests, and while he knows damn well that things can never be what they were - never captain and first officer, beaming down once again to explore strange new worlds - that does not mean the road has to come to an end. "Infinite diversity, Spock. That's what this place truly is."
no subject
Contentjoybelonginglove--
He sends his emotions through the touch to his t'hy'la and enjoys feeling Jim's mind accept them as it has not been able to in so many years.
"That would be most agreeable." Spock's done his part in rebuilding New Vulcan. The aged Ambassador is no longer of much use to them now. It would be trivially easy to leave there and make a new home for himself here in the Nexus for as long as he has left. "I would need to find a place here of course but once that is accomplished I could accompany you anywhere you liked."
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"I'm sure we can find you a place here," he answers, making no attempt to hide the loving smile on his own face, nor through the simple touch of their fingers, sharing in that contentment. It isn't perfect. It never was, and it never will be. But it's theirs.