taxonomites | xiii [ location: uss enterprise ] / [ accidental visual ].

He woke with his head pillowed on arms folded on his desk, blinking into the early morning light filtering in through the windows in his ready room. Kirk wasn't sure how he got there, as he didn't recall sitting down at any point...nor did he remember pulling out a PADD on the Kelvin. He sat upright and picked it up, regarding it with open confusion, too focused on it and the picture of the man he was the spitting image of to notice the tablet feeding this visual to the rest of Taxon.

"How did--"

A sudden rush of memories and information that filled in the gap that was the previous week made him wince. Dropping the PADD back onto the desk, he pressed his hand to his eyes and left it there. So, it seemed he'd been glitched again, only into his twelve-year-old self and not a girl. Thank God, though he wasn't sure which one was more embarrassing. At least he remembered this time and now knew that his younger self had pulled the information up on the PADD out of curiosity about his father.

"I am getting really tired of this."

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His definition of 'too good' probably varied a bit from hers, given his colorful history with women and failed attempts at relationships when he did make the effort in the past. Of course, none of those girls had quite caught his attention in the way that Buffy had, nor had those relationships lasted as long as this one had, which would be a month here soon -- longer, if one counted the time they spent dancing around one another.

Kirk laughed. "Probably. God knows I overindulged in the hatches. Should probably cut back on the blood wine splurging while I'm at it."

Well, Buffy was perhaps a bit hyper-aware of her own definition, considering the epic fashion in which she screwed up with Riley, her last real relationship, in the traditional sense of the word-- she certainly didn't want to make the same mistakes again, and take Kirk for granted or make him feel like he didn't matter to her. Still, almost a month and she hadn't messed things up yet, that was certainly encouraging-- and she was happy.

The mention of blood wine made her wrinkle her nose with distaste. "I still maintain my position of ewww on that, by the way."

"Hey, don't dis it until you've tried it," he teased. "And I'm sure the blood part's just the name and not an ingredient."

"I'm not trying your gross wine," she stated flatly, clearly unconvinced, though with a slightly amused quirk of her lips.

Edited 2009-11-27 01:10 (UTC)

"It's not gross," he protested. "It's just got a gross name. Leave it to the Klingons to take the appeal away from booze with one little word. Of course, for them that probably is appeal."

"But why give it a gross name, unless it's gross?" she asked, perfectly logically, she thought. "And what's a Klingon, anyway?"

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