Watching Uhura Sleep
He really did not mean to watch her sleep.
The fact that he was still here, doing so, was strictly accidental, right?
They had beamed down, conducted their readings, taken some samples; upgraded the beacons. It was all routine - and in the briefing, Spock made it all sound so easy.
As Science Officer, the Vulcan had originally been slated to go; but at the last minute, Jim had changed the composition of the landing party, himself.
He had had some engineering experience, Spock knew that. And Spock had made no demur - had merely looked from Uhura back to his Captain - and conducted a revised briefing.
So it looked to be a great day.
Then, before communication was cut off, they were informed that the ship would have to move away. Whatever the problem was, Kirk knew Spock would fix it. Spock always fixed it.
And meanwhile, they were down here on this planet.
At least Jim had been smart enough to bring along the burly young tech whom the Science Officer had recommended – Without him, Jim admitted, this would probably look bad…
The young man was some distance away, guarding their position. If he squinted, Kirk could make him out against the darkening sky.
Uhura shifted, a little, in her sleep; and Jim found his eyes drawn to her again.
Lieutenant Uhura was beautiful. Even if you looked at just her nose, or just her lips – just her eyes - she was beautiful. Even when she was thoroughly pissed at him - even when she was asleep on the rough ground at the end of a very long day - she was beautiful.
There was just something about her - something that he simply couldn't explain… In the 3 years 193 days since he had met her, that indescribable something had turned her into the one woman against whom all others were compared.
There were others more cooperative. That was for sure.
There were others more his type.
Were there were others curvier? Absolutely.
There were others taller, stronger, sillier - feistier, even.
Some prettier. Some friendlier - some hotter. Maybe, some more fun.
Somewhere there were probably some more graceful, some more tolerant, some more curious.
Surely there were some with longer legs, easier laughs, quicker wits?
Possibly some more enigmatic.
He couldn't imagine many smarter. Well, actually, he knew a few – but you wouldn't really want to hang with them, if you know what I mean…
More dedicated? No.
More unquestioningly obedient? Certainly.
More fair and honest? No. (He didn't much care to admit that one. But - her assessments were painfully fair, and she was unfailingly honest.)
Few more talented, more loyal, more professional, more self-reliant.
Few more articulate, interesting, mesmerizing.
Few more satisfied, filled with joy.
None more deserving.
More beautiful?
More loving?
More available.
When she awoke and sat up, she would look around to check on him, smile, listen to his words; laugh if he amused her. She would touch his arm to ground him, if she thought he was lost; she would speak quiet words to bolster him.
If necessary, she would cut him down to size – and cut him to the quick.
And the whole time, she would be listening – listening - for something else. Something more.
And something more would call to her.
He looked again at Uhura, this sleeping woman – this amazing woman …
When she awoke she would look around and check on him – but he would not be what her waking eyes were really looking for.
Jim Kirk knew he was guarding something precious. It just wasn't his.