Hi. Um, I know it's been a while, and a lot of you have given up on me for good. I don't blame you. I'm in a kind of limbo right now, and it's not exactly invigorating, but I'm optimistic still. I will be back, I have to believe.
The reason why I'm posting this ficlet is shameless promotion for charity. There is a very dedicated community on livejournal -- help_haiti which is currently running an auction in several fandoms to help raise money to help the people of Haiti who lost their home and loved ones. The mechanism is simple: bidders donate to one of the organizations like Red Cross etc. and in exchange they get a work of art or fiction from the author/artist they choose.
I'm offering to write a fic up to 1000 plus words with any pairing/rating you choose. You can give me a prompt or have me work it out myself, if you bid and if you bid the highest, I'll be your writing slave for the duration. ;)
If you're interested, my offer is here: http:// community . livejournal . com /help_haiti/ 3155. html? thread=2629715#t2629715 (delete spaces)
Thank you and please accept this little snippet as compensation for your time. It takes place in the Absolute Horizon universe, the time frame is between the end of the 5-year mission and the events of TMP. K/S if you squint, gen if you don't. Enjoy?
"Careful, Jim!"
Careful, Jim. He's heard that one before.
First time, from his mother, when he had climbed that old, branchy tree in the courtyard. He was five years old. Sam told him it was a bad idea, but he also told Jimmy that he had climbed that tree. There was no way the younger of the Kirk brothers was going to pretend he hadn't heard that veiled challenge. So he climbed. He had almost reached the top when he heard that terrified gasp.
'Careful, Jim!'
And the branch he was holding onto gave, and he was falling down before he realized what had happened.
Sam caught him. It wasn't the finest rescue attempt in history, but clumsy or not, it worked. They both rolled on the ground, swallowing dust and coughing, while their mother parted with her panic in a very loud way.
He'd heard it again, not long after that. In a Parisses Squares match that he was too young to take part in.
'Careful, Jim!'
It was Nicky, his first 'serious' fancy. She stayed in this capacity for another year, until he turned eleven and switched schools.
He lost his balance the moment he heard her voice and fell down. One of the elder boys had turned the forcefield on just in time to prevent Jim smashing into the ground. His back ached for a month after that.
'Careful, Jim!'
Tarsus. Zdenek. It was the only warning he had ever gotten. He slipped conveniently, and the phaser beam missed him. It didn't miss Zdenek, though, his first real friend after Sam.
'Careful, Jim!'
Tony, the elder cadet at the Academy. It was their first field mission, and Kirk managed to step in a pull of quicksand. It took the whole team to pull him out, and the time they had lost doing it had cost them the victory.
'Careful, Jim. If you don't watch it, you'll marry her.'
Gary. Who later confessed he had aimed the girl at him. And had the gall to tease him about her. Gary, who had saved his butt half a dozen times. Gary, who died because Jim wasn't careful.
'Careful, Jim!'
Bones. Good old Bones, who nearly got a heart attack when seeing Jim in action for the first time. Who never stopped issuing warnings ever since.
...
Spock.
The one person who never bothered with 'Careful, Jim!' Spock gave no warnings. He was just there, constant as Polaris. Ready to catch Jim or crush and burn with him. And the prospect of hitting the ground was never quite so scary anymore.
"Careful, Jim!"
It's Lori this time. It's also the third time she's said it since he had started climbing up that cliff. Why she's even here eludes Jim. He had warned her she would not enjoy a camping trip. She tagged along anyway and is now showing her concern incessantly. And he...
He is afraid.
For the first time in his life, he is afraid of his own recklessness, of his desperation. There is no one here to catch him. He used to need no one to catch him. He used to be his own man. He used to be complete—just the way he was.
He used to need no one.
"I hate you," he whispers.
He isn't addressing the woman who's watching his progress with a heart racing in her throat. He isn't addressing her at all.
"God forgive me, I hate you so much."
His fingers are beginning to slip from a brow of the solid rock he's been holding on to. He's going to fall.
"Your fault," he whispers, pressing his fingers harder to the almost smooth surface. "Your fault, Spock. You made me weak. You son of a bitch, you made me weak."
"God, Jim! Please be careful!"
He hates her, too. He hates the idle warning, the selfish demonstration of concern for him, which only serves to make her better in her own eyes.
He's being unfair, he knows it. He doesn't care. He just doesn't want to hear 'Careful, Jim!' ever again.
His hand continues to slip, and his leg is about to give under pressure. Looks like he's going to get his wish after all.
His wrist twists awkwardly and he's cut loose.
He only hopes he will have enough time to enjoy his free fall before it brings him to an inevitable end.
Before it kills him.