Hi All! I'm back!
In between editing and re-vamping my other Star Trek One Shots, I realised I had an idea.
A crazy, wonderful, marvelous idea.
Well...not wonderful or marvelous, but certainly crazy.
Here it is!
Five Girls James Tiberius Kirk Might Have Loved (And One More He Did)
1.
She had pretty, pretty hair.
Jim remembered that most vividly. Her hair.
Long and golden and soft, like sunlight.
It was even warm to the touch.
Jim used to bury his hands in that hair, and sometimes she'd almost smile.
Almost.
Jim wished she'd smile. He'd seen photos, he'd seen how beautiful she was when she smiled, how it lit up her face and shone through her eyes, how free and happy she was.
But she never smiled anymore. She only ever sighed sadly, her lips twitching up a little at the corners, her eyes as sad and hollow as ever.
Winona Kirk had the most beautiful smile in starfleet, people had said once.
But her smile died with George Kirk, and Jim never really forgave her for that.
~.~.~
2.
She was all long legs and a lazy smile, gleaming, mischievous green eyes and hair so red it reminded Jim of his Dad's car or the sunset or fire and a hundred other things that almost fit but didn't quite.
Her name was Ruby Golde, and she was wild laughter, harebrained schemes, painted-on jeans and heels on a motorbike.
It was lust at first sight.
Jim first saw her playing pool in a pair of her stupidly skinny jeans, her grey shirt riding up her back to show a sliver of skin as she bent over, dropping the ball with scary precision and fuck me when she looked over her shoulder and tossed him a careless wink, Jim nearly died right then and there, nearly melted into a puddle on the floor.
Ruby had that effect on people.
She was gorgeous and sexy and she kissed him up against the wall outside the bar and brought him back to her motel room and proceeded to teach him exactly what was meant by 'wild sex'.
"I'm only here for a week" She'd said that first morning as he traced lazy patterns onto her skin.
In the morning, with smudged eyeliner and sex hair, tangled in the sheets with bleary eyes, she looked even better than she had the night before.
The week was a whirlwind of laughter, bright smiles and waking with his body twisted around hers.
"Maybe I can do another week" She said with a shrug and a careless smile.
That other week turned into a month, then two, then three.
It was halfway through the fourth that something changed.
Girls like Ruby don't stay put for long, Jim had always known that. They were dangerous and addictive, intoxicating and so bright they almost killed you.
They were dramatic and spontaneous, diving headfirst into life with a kind of reckless abandon that was just as frightening as it was beautiful, living the hard, fast life with no care to the wreckage they left behind as they tore a hole through peoples lives.
And they had secrets. They were always running from something.
Jim didn't know what Ruby was running from, or why, just that she was itching to start running again because the darkness she wanted to escape was starting to overtake her.
They'd always fought, both of them too volatile and hot-tempered not too, but there had always been this passion boiling underneath the surface that meant they could kiss away the sharp words and the hurt they caused.
But then they started to fight more than they fucked, and then they didn't really fuck at all unless it was angry or they were apologising. The reckless, careless freedom, the thing they'd created was starting to bring them down but neither of them were ready to let it go.
Broken as it was, it was still beautiful.
Jim woke up on the first true day of Autumn alone. The skies were grey and the tree outside the motel room was changing and the spot where Ruby should have been was cold and only smelt faintly of whiskey, sweat and Ruby's perfume.
She didn't leave a note, or anything really, just a stick of half-used lipstick that was almost as red as her hair and that grey shirt from the first night at the bar.
Both were accidental, he was sure. Ruby was the sentimental type.
Looking out the window, surrounded by the cold emptiness that Ruby left behind and the wreckage of his heart, he suddenly realised exactly what shade of red her hair was.
Red like falling Autumn leaves.
~.~.~
3.
Flynn wanted to fly.
She wanted to fly and she wanted it so badly that Jim swore that she'd grow wings through sheer force of will and just take off one day, disappear into the black and not spare a thought for those left behind.
She had a soft smile and a wicked sense of humour and small hands and Jim, in the end, doesn't know what hurt more.
That she yelled at him to not bother coming back, or that he never did.
~.~.~
4.
Jim bought Morgan Moreau coffee every morning for three months before she finally accepted one. And even when she did accept one, it was with a sort of grudging acknowledgment, as if she'd finally decided that Jim was worth more than an arched eyebrow and a swift dismissal.
That day when she accepted her coffee (long black, two sugars no cream) Jim had dragged Bones away from his lecture to point out the girl, bouncing up and down on his heels in excitement as his best friend glanced at his latest conquest.
"Just another pretty face" Bones grumbled.
He'd seen to many of Jim's 'interests' to show much interest in any of them anymore.
Jim had been appropriately indignant, squawking that this one was different, that he didn't use these poor girls.
And it was true, well the first part was. Morgan was different.
Jim hadn't noticed her face first, after all, he'd noticed the way she moved.
Morgan didn't have the sassy sashay of Ruby, the long lope of Flynn or the measured, military walk of his mother, she had a sort of fluid, continuous walk, an innate, supple grace that belonged to a ballerina, not a school teacher.
Morgan walked with perfect posture and her head held high, her back as straight as a starfleet officer.
Straighter even.
She was tall and lean, dressed in a sensible, knee-length skirt and a crisp white blouse, her dark curls pulled into a severe braid at the back of her head.
She walked down the street, so strong and confident and graceful and achingly untouchable that Jim had to have her.
Morgan, however, was not the type of girl to be taken in by a lick of charm and an easy smile.
She wasn't even the type of girl to fall for a pair of gorgeous eyes.
Morgan was an Ice Queen – untouchable, unbreakable and formidable. With only an arched eyebrow and a disdainful sneer, she sent men running for the hills. With her words she could tear someone down so quickly you'd miss it if you blinked.
She didn't smile so much as smirk, and for six months and two days, Jim's chief pleasure was that he was the only one who could coax a genuine smile out of the Ice Queen. Ever.
When she smiled, and those coffee-dark eyes lit up and almost fuckin' glowed, Jim had too smile too.
It was even better when he could make her laugh. Not just her quiet chuckle, but a full-on throaty laugh that was a little husky and deep and almost masculine.
He had six months with Morgan Moreau before he left her, and three years on he still doesn't know what was more frightening;
The cold, biting steel of her voice when she was angry, or the soft, velvet-smooth whisper he'd heard that last night as she sighed that she loved him.
~.~.~
5.
Gaila was different.
Of course Gaila was different, how could she not be different?
Gaila had the best laugh of anyone he'd ever met. It was loud and bright and completely and utterly sincere.
Gaila had a sort of mean intelligence behind her eyes, the type that Jim admired, respected even, and wasn't that a hard thing for Jim to admit?
Gaila put up with his bullshit and rolled her eyes at his jokes. She brought him notes when he skipped class and smacked him upside his head when he was being an idiot and kissed him as though the world was crashing down around their heads and each kiss was their last.
Gaila was brilliant. Gaila was beautiful. Gaila was one of his best friends.
Gaila was dead.
Gaila was dead and she loved him and Jim might have loved her, one day, given the chance.
Or, at least that's what he told himself late at night, staring at the bottom of a bottle of Jack and counting down the seconds to morning.
~.~.~
+1.
Jim walked her corridors daily, and proclaimed to all who would listen that there was nothing and no one quite so beautiful.
When he sat on his Captain's chair, staring out at the deep black of space and felt her engines humming beneath his feet, he couldn't help but smile, and then grin like a complete and utter idiot.
Sometimes, after a long stint in the Med Bay, or after shore leave, or their latest tangle with a pissed-off alien race (which happened a good deal more than one might think) Jim even laughed the first time he stepped back onto the ship.
Which, of course, made his crew wonder about his sanity but they knew he'd had a few screws loose to begin with so they weren't all that worried.
After all, they'd signed up to stay with him, so there had to be something wrong with them too.
As Jim sat back down in his Captain's chair, feeling the familiar thrumming of the engines, he fiercely murmured that he would never love anyone or anything as much as he loved his Shining Silver Lady.
The Enterprise hummed, as if in agreement, and took off for Space, trusting her adoring Captain to steer her into a new adventure and find worlds never found before.
And...we have reached the end.
Naw =(
I actually really enjoyed writing this. It was hard in parts. I found Morgan's really difficult and Flynn's ridiculous easy. And Gaila's. Gaila's was easy. I don't know why, maybe I find it easier to sum up a person in a short paragraph than it is to write them a whole history.
So! If you liked this, review, and keep in mind that I'm editing my other two Star Trek One Shots so the re-vamped and properly proof-read versions will be up soon.
Have a lovely day!
-BlackCat