taxonomites | 032 ━ [ visual ] / [ location: uss enterprise ].

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032 ━ [ visual ] / [ location: uss enterprise ].

Like many others in the city, Kirk had heard the transmission, too. He hadn't expected the antique radio (it was antique to him) he'd purchased at the mall to do more than decorate his desk and had been startled to hear what had come out of it. Now, he was hard at work on attempting to trace the signal. Give that it wasn't on the usual frequencies that he had the ship's computer programmed to keep an eye on, he was having to do some adjusting. The radio signals of Earth's past were obsolete, weak-- but he could get it work. It just required a few calculations.

The tablet turns on to show him doing precicely that. He circles one equation with the stylus and drags it up to sit next another, tapping the space the equation used to be twice to bring up schematics for the ship's sensors. The tweaking of the systems wasn't what was bothering him. It was the fact that he hadn't understood a word of what had been said. He was fluent in a multitude of languages, including those spoken on Earth and most major languages of the Federation. He'd used trying to get into Uhura's pants as an excuse to take that many linguistics classes and be part of the linguistics club, but the truth was he liked languages-- nevermind being able to speak an alien tongue or two (or twelve) made a ship's captain look more self-sufficient and made him less reliant on his translators during negotiations and confrontations.

Noticing the tablet, he set the stylus down and grabbed it instead. "Tell me, Taxon," he said directly to the screen, "did any of you understand what the radio transmission said?"

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"French is easy," he finds himself saying before he can stop it from tumbling out of his mouth. Well, he does like to brag. "I breezed through it in high school. You're right, though. It's not French. The, uh, tonality of it is off. None of the right indicators that would point to French or any Neo-Latin Earth-based languages, for that matter."

Kirk nods. "Hypothetically, yes I can. Easily. Yeah, it's a file."

She decides not to offer him a look over the bragging. Of course, French would have been too easy. Any human language would have been too easy.

But there are other priorities: "Can I get a copy?" Buffy turns back to look at Kirk. "If you don't mind."

He would just smirk smugly if he she had. He's kind of an insufferable ass like that.

"Don't mind at all. I can send the file directly to your tablet, unless you'd rather have it in a different format."

"No, the tablet's fine." She could show it to Dawn, then. She suspects the girl might have already heard the broadcast on her own but if she has hit the language geekdom with hurricane-levels of dedication then her sister might appreciate her own copy.

Buffy digs into her pocket to retrieve the gadget.

A few taps on the console and Buffy's tablet should be dinging with the received file.

"That should do it."

Her eyes drop to the gadget while she confirms that it's worked. A small, grateful smile.

She doesn't have the guts to bring it up. "Thanks. I appreciate this -- really."

For a moment, Kirk eases back into the comfort of old habits. He and Buffy-- the one that was here before here-- were together for a long time, nearly a year, and it's not hard to just fall back into what once was. Reality sets in and he checks himself, banishing the smile he was giving her in favor of standing abruptly and moving to sit in his captain's chair in the center of the bridge instead.

"Was that all?"

This abrupt shift catches her off-guard; however, she isn't so much surprised as sad. Of course. She probably deserves no more, in his eyes. Buffy rushes to stand. Be less casual. Less comfortable.

"Y-yeah, I guess. That's...yeah. Thanks."

"You know where the door is."

Be less of a dick, Jim. If anyone gets different versions of people, it's he who has a double out there, somewhere, and knows two versions of Spock. Back down on the righteous asshole tendencies. This Buffy does not deserve your wrath.

She taps the tablet nervously against her palm. Of course -- mission complete, time to leave. She bites down on her lower lip and tries not to look so guilty. Buffy's shoes clack loudly as she strides back towards the door.

She hesitates only once, just as they open before her. She turns back and crosses her arms comfortingly across her chest. Defense mechanisms. "James?" No one had corrected her yet. No one had told her to call him anything else except perhaps Kirk. And that seemed a little impersonal. Hah. "I'm...I'm sorry."

But she doesn't clarify further, turning quickly away from the bridge and hurrying out before any other words can be wedged in.

"What?"

The apology, in turn, catches him off-guard, and he stares at her, not quite getting it yet. She didn't know, no-one had told her. ...right?

She pauses just beyond the doors. Is she still close enough to keep them open? She doesn't know. These things and their workings are beyond her -- she gets the impression that he already knows this. But she wasn't insulted by it. Still isn't.

"I said...I'm sorry." Buffy doesn't turn around.

Kirk leaps up from his chair and makes a dash for the door, nearly falling through the air between them as they part as he stumbles out into the hallway. He gets what she means, he just wasn't aware that she even knew. Was it Max? No, Max would've told him if he'd told her. Who, then? He felt a surge of something he's not sure is anger or gratitude.

"How'd you find out?"

"Another ex."

She turns, her arms still crossed. As much as she had villainize herself in her mind, it's easier to villainize Angelus in turn. "The unpleasant, evil kind of ex."

And maybe she's stung that she had to find out from the soulless vampire about all of this. Maybe just a bit.

"Angelus," he breathes. "That bloodsucking son of a bitch."

"Angelus," Buffy confirms what really needn't be confirmed. "He knows how to hit a girl where it hurts even when caged."

Hard, cold. Her body language is tight and reserved. She doesn't know Kirk.

And Kirk doesn't know this version of Buffy. He sighs, running a hand down his face and leaning against the side of the Enterprise for a moment. The hull's cool under his hand and for a moment, he's distracted by how much he misses home and the rest of the ship he barely got to captain. He shrugs that off in favor of dealing with the here and now.

"Look," he pushes himself off the wall and takes a few steps closer, "I know I've been a dick and that's me; all me. I get it, the whole being out of sync thing, having someone else who's not you do things. I get it more than I'm allowed to say, even if orders given to me by Temporal Investigations may not exactly stand so much anymore in this goddamn place. My point is: I've got issues, but those issues are mine. Don't beat yourself up over what someone you're not did. You didn't do anything."

And therein lies the problem. Which was worse? The notion that she had been that Buffy as well or the one where there could ever possibly be two of her. Neither option feels very comforting. And both are more confusion than she wanted. But blaming herself for his issues surrounding her? That is easy. Buffy is a pro at burdening herself with unnecessary responsibility.

"A dick? God, you've behaved a hell of a lot more kindly than I would have if the situation was reversed. Dimensional identity wackiness or not." It's true that Buffy hadn't quite felt like Kirk has been rude to her. Just...guarded. Sad -- maybe. At no point did she think it had something to do with her, personally.

"I wouldn't exactly say I've been nice to you, either," Kirk laments. "It's not your fault."

"Except it is." She sounds fairly certain of this. "Maybe not my my fault. But another mine. And I'm not sure how to process that yet."

It had been months and she still wasn't sure. How many more landmines was she going to walk into. "I thought I had it figured out...and then I find out about you and -- God, are there any more surprises? Did I go vegan? Please tell me I didn't go vegan."

A poor place for a joke.

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032 ━ [ visual ] / [ location: uss enterprise ].

[ action ] mmm locutus~

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