Watching Jim Kirk Sleep 2
Watching him sleep, she wondered when they had begun to understand one another. When had this friendship begun?
It had certainly not been there in the beginning.
Not the night they met: He seemed like he might be fun. But he was, most definitely, not her type.
After that had come amusement, as he tried to gain her attention; irritation, at his easy arrogance; frustration, at his false superiority; disdain, as he dismissed wiser heads than his own.
But now, there was this friendship.
She could think of decisive moments, here or there, after she had been convinced to give him the benefit of the doubt: An impulsive question, a thoughtful silence, a reasoned answer, a look of real comprehension, a nod of understanding. Put together, over time, they formed a cogent argument in favor of the idea that there might be more to Jim Kirk than immediately met the eye.
Once that conclusion was reached, he became more than the man who sat in the center seat, and whose words were the ones they followed. He became the man whose smile was the one they looked for, as surely as the Commander's was the nod they needed.
She never thought she'd learn to respect him - even as she grew to like him, in spite of all her good sense. But as her appreciation – affection - for him grew, she found herself calling him 'Captain,' even in those times when 'Jim' was enough.
Now, when the day was over, and they gathered together – or when shoreleave came, and they left the ship – Jim was one whose easy friendship made sense.
Sometimes, on a shoreleave evening, they would go to a bar, to drink and dance – Nyota Uhura and Captain Kirk, the two whose hearts were still Up There.