Inspired by a line in a new fic I'm writing and the challenge to write Winona Kirk. And now I've found I want to write more of these two together!
Snapshot.
There is nothing like the excitement of a new crew, a new mission. The future stretches before them, long and far and holding nothing but possibility.
But standing outside the shuttle dock on the gleaming, retrofitted USS Kelvin, all Winona Kirk can think about is how blue George's eyes look in the bright docking lights, how he moves with such confidence when he speaks with a collection of engineering crew members.
She smiles as he walks by and grabs her hand, whisks her away to the turbo lift. They have less than thirty seconds before it reaches the bridge, and she laughs when he wraps his arms around her and kisses her silly, hand sliding up to run through her gold locks.
"George!" she says, lips inches from his. "You're messing up my hair."
"It's perfect, just like you."
How did she find a man like him?
When they walk onto the bridge, the helmsman grabs George's arm and steers him behind the captain's chair, his back to the glowing stars of space. "Gotta get a picture before we head out, Lieutenant."
A year later, when she's all alone, Winona can remember the feel of his hand around her waist pulling her close, the way his warmth permeated her entire being, the joy she felt at serving on the same ship as her husband. Lying in the med bay, tiny Jim in her arms, she pulls up the photograph and holds it in front of his bright blue eyes – George's eyes – and strokes the grinning figures.
"This is your father," she tells the cooing child. He reaches up, wrapping those tiny fingers around hers, and she presses his hand against the photo. "This was my George."