Jim's Personal Quarters

Pock lifted an eyebrow. "I believe I myself require a shower as well, before I embark on anything even semi professional," she said. "Perhaps I should wait until you are done with yours?" Her eyes glittered with mischief.

"Or," he said, voice dropping unconsciously, "you could join me." Jim's eyes roved over her body, taking in the sight. He hadn't had the opportunity the previous night to just observe.

"I believe," she said flirtatiously, "that might be best. Conservation of water aboard a starship is a very important aspect of the health and morale of the crew. We would not wish the crew's morale to suffer."

Jim stepped forward again, kissing her, one hand on her hip, the other buried in his hair. "Shower," he murmured against her lips. "Now."

Pock's eyes were laughing as she kissed him back, chuckling slightly into the embrace. Her arms snaked around his neck. "I agree," she purred.

After spending far too much time in the shower, Jim felt a little bit human again. He couldn't help but stare at Pock as they dried themselves off.

He loved this woman and he wanted to spend the rest of his life showing it to her in all sorts of ways.

Pock ran the towel along her side, then caught Jim's eyes. "Why are you staring?" she asked, her face blank. Was there a strange mark on her, or something he had noticed to be out of the ordinary? Had their time in the shower been unsatisfactory? "Is there something wrong?"

Jim stepped forward and kissed her gently. "Nope. Nothing's wrong," he said. "I just like looking." And it was true. His fingers ran through her wet and slightly tangled hair.

"I love you," he murmured, meeting her eyes. "So, so much."

Pock ran her thumb lightly across his jawline, taking in the warmth of his eyes before tipping his head downwards and pressing a kiss to his lips.

"I love you too," she murmured back.

And she did. She loved him.

He pulled her close, one arm around her waist, his other hand buried in her hair. "Think we'll get lucky and won't get called to the Bridge today?" he murmured.

Pock looked skeptical. "The odds of such are approximately one hundred and fourty-four to one, Captain. I am unsure if this constitutes to you as the 'odds being in our favor', but from a logical perspective it is sadly not so."

Jim groaned, resting his head against her shoulder. "May the odds be ever in our favor then," he said. He reveled in being able to hold her so close.

Pock quirked an eyebrow.

"I do not comprehend this reference," she said dryly, though she quietly leaned her head against his, her fingers rubbing thoughtful circles against his skin.

Jim laughed, breath huffing across her shoulder. "It's from a book trilogy from the 21st century. I read them when I was a kid."

He was quite comfortable, knowing that, for the moment, they weren't needed anywhere.

Pock processed the information duly, but said nothing in response. Her reply was unnecessary. Instead, she merely pressed a quick kiss to the top of his head and untangled herself from his arms.

"I believe our presence might be necessary on the Bridge, Captain," she said with a tolerant smirk, like a mother towards their unruly child.

Jim pulled a face. "Do we have to?" he whined.

In all honesty, all he wanted to was to stay, wrapped up in each other.

On the other hand, she was right. They had a star ship to command, a universe to discover, and if he remembered their next orders correctly, someone else to drop off.

Pock shot him an amused, but stern, look.

"Yes," she said, leaving no room for dispute.

Jim pulled another face. "Ugh, fine."

He grabbed a towel and started drying his hair.

Pock just smiled and draped a towel across her long, languid body, moving gracefully across the room and through the doorway that divided their quarters.

Jim watched out of the corner of his eye as Pock left. He went through the rest of his hygienic routine and left the bathroom.

He entered his room, quickly getting dressed. Eventually satisfied with his appearance, Jim left to go to the bridge.

Pock dressed and took care of herself as she always did, drying her hair and pulling it back into a tight ponytail. She checked herself in the mirror to assure herself that her appearance was as tight and pristine as ever it was, and then, when she was content, she took a deep breath.

She made her way to the bridge with a clear head, and for the first time in a long time, a feeling of warmth in her chest.

Not that she would ever admit it.

Pock looked curiously at Jim, who had distanced himself from her.

"Would you prefer I go to my own quarters?" she asked.

Jim shook his head. "No, I'd prefer it if you didn't." He took a deep breath. "It's not easy to talk about this." He looked at her, feeling years older than he actually was.

Pock met his eyes with a surprising warmth held in her dark brown irises.

"I can comprehend how difficult it must be for you," she said.

Jim gave another weak smile. "I... I got away as soon as I could. That's when I ended up on Tarsus. And everything went to hell in a hand basket there too."