#aahwtq

[marlinspirkhall]

It's been one hour. Chapter 16 of AAHWTQ is up.

Summary: In which the dramatic tension is ramped up in an unexpected way.

Excerpt:

The strangest thing about the elder Spock aren’t his similarities to the younger. No, the strangest thing- the thing which unsettles her the most- is the fact that there’s a difference. One very notable difference. Like Spock, Selek has a soulmark on his neck, but it isn’t a line. It isn’t golden, either, though that fact is less surprising… No: as Nyota peers at it, she feels an odd sense of foreboding. She knows that mark. She’d know it anywhere; even blindfolded. It’s a silver hourglass.

[marlinspirkhall]

Hi! It's been months. Chapter 15 of AAHWTQ is here.

Summary: Kissing <3 and mind melds

Excerpt:

His uniform is strewn somewhat carelessly across the floor, starting with the blue shirt. There's an enquiring grunt. “An untidy Vulcan?” She muses. “Or am I holding you to unfair standards in a moment of distress?” “Nmn.” “Well, in that case, I apologise.” She sits on the edge of the mattress. The lump wriggles closer. She reaches a hand out. “Is this your head?” A purr.

[marlinspirkhall]

Keep forgetting to post updates, but chapter 13 of AAHWTQ is up

[marlinspirkhall]

WIP From And Her Heart Was Then Quicksilver (soulmark AU), for @uhuramonth

"Well, unfortunately, whatever triggered this latest reaction is a mystery to me." "Could be dust," the patient quips. "It's usually dust." "Starfleet Headquarters are not renowned for being particularly dusty." "Maybe not. But-" "Your tricorder results were inconclusive, so we're going to run some tests-" "Bloodwork?" Kirk groans. "Only to see what could have caused-" "- Yeah, yeah." Kirk lies back on the bed. "But, really, I feel fine now." "That's because you're in a sterile environment, and-" "- So, you agree, it could be dust?" "– You know it's standard procedure to update your list of allergens, so nothing like this happens again." "But it will happen again, and honestly, I'm used to it. Can I please continue with the open day? I-" "- Mr Kirk, if you try to leave that bed, I'll have to call the Admiral. Now, wait here." Vrushta strides from the cubicle, and Kirk rubs his face with exhaustion. "Well, this was a mistake," he mutters. Nyota frowns. The Admiral? If Kirk is related to someone in Starfleet, that may be where she recognises the name from. Still, she moves closer to get a better look at him. He looks pale and sickly, and something catches the light. She studies the side of his face. He has a silver mark on his right cheek- not scratches, like hers, but one large, shiny mass. He turns to her. There's a glimpse of gold- She steps back behind the curtain, breathing fast.

Amina laughs, and peers through the gap. Her eyes widen. "Nyota," she says, "His marks are like yours.”

[marlinspirkhall]

WIP Wednesday, from AAHWTQ @uhuramonth

“You should really go to medbay,” she says. “Telling me what to do already?” He hisses out a laugh. “I'm gonna have my work cut out for me, assuming I'm Captain for more than five hours, which is…. debatable.” He quiets, but lets her approach. Gently, she takes the applicator from him, and he draws in a breath. “Easy,” she murmurs. “If you're not going to go to medbay–” “I can't.” “– then I'll try not to make this hurt.” Gently, she cups his jaw, and he leans into the touch. He's tense. “Close your eyes,” she murmurs. He looks at her helplessly. “You've got a bruise around your eye.” He studies her for a long moment, but finally does as she asks. “You know why I can't go to medbay, right?” He breathes, at last. “Bones will kill him. Like, actually kill him, with his bare hands.” She smiles. “He cares about you.” “Too much.” He lets out a hollow laugh. Her heart thuds. “I don't think that's possible.

[marlinspirkhall]

It's WIP Wednesday, here's another snippet from AAHWTQ @uhuramonth

“How’s the book?” James’ voice breaks her out of her reverie, and she starts. She has no idea how long he’s been standing there. “Depressing,” she says. He glances at the cover. “I thought that was a romance novel.” “That’s kind-of the problem.” He sits on the desk because there’s no-one around to tell him not to. Briefly, Nyota considers doing so, but her hand drifts forwards instead: not a warning, but an invitation. It lies equidistant between them on the hardwood. The table is covered with bumps and grooves and knots, and she counts each one as she moves her arm towards him, half a centimeter every seven pages. He reads over her shoulder, or at least pretends to as she turns the pages faster than even she can keep up with, and balances the spine across three fingers. She turns each page with her thumb, her other hand resolutely still, waiting. She keeps her gaze on the page, skimming the dialogue. She turns her face towards him slightly, face curiously warm. When she glances back at Jim, he’s staring at her, openly. His fingers twitch against hers. “You haven’t turned a page in a while,” he murmurs. She exhales, and extricates her hand from his. “I didn’t know you could read French.” The corner of his mouth twitches. “It’s the understanding which eludes me.” She tuts softly. They bump shoulders as he hops down from the table, and disappears into the stacks.

[marlinspirkhall]

Yesterday when I went to back it up, I discovered I'd lost my most recent version of AAHWTQ, but I calmly checked my deleted folder and it was hiding in there.

[marlinspirkhall]

WIP Wednesday- from And Her Heart Was Then Quicksilver, for @uhuramonth

She steps into the ready room. The call is already over. Jim is slumped over his desk. “You’re surprised that her mark didn’t fade after The Kelvin, right?” he says, without looking up. Nyota stops in the doorway. “I guess there’s no point in me pretending this is about ship’s business.” He runs his fingers along the edge of the table. “Depends on the excuse, I guess. What were you going to say?” “Well…” She glances over her shoulder. “Rand’s doing a coffee run.” His mouth twitches. “I don’t think I need it.” “No.” She steps forwards, and the door shuts with a hiss. The ready room is distinctly more colourful than it was when they first inherited it: the seat at the edge of the room has been covered by a red throw blanket, and there are other touches of decoration here and there. A painting done by a crew member, a pink cushion, and a lively plant (no doubt acquired by Sulu). It was so empty when she first came on board- for all that talk of it being 'his' ship, Pike didn't really have time to decorate it before they blasted off into space, and the only thing he left them with was the room's centrepiece: the round, wooden table. Jim traces its edge again, and she notices a series of small grooves cut into the side. She can’t work out if they were made by him, or Pike. “You know, Spock would probably say my emotions are Ship’s Business,” he says, after a pause. She smiles. “That’s his way of asking how you are.” “I know.” He looks up, and holds her with a serious gaze. “My mother…” He stops. “Admiral Kirk. Everyone always treated her like it was her fault. Like she must not have loved him enough.” Nyota stays very still, scarcely daring to breathe. She's never heard Jim talk about his family before, and any interruption might cause him to shut down entirely. “I used to believe it, too,” he murmurs. “Used to believe she didn't love anything or anyone. She used to leave me for weeks on end. Not alone. Although that might have been better...”