durare | let's play.

let's play.

open post. texts/prompts/starters welcome. Gen and NSFW friendly.

[ they say that you never forget your first love: the one who first kissed you, who showed you both the light and the dark, and in his death and sacrifice reminded you that love, love is what matters, not war. a reminder, a hope, a ray of light in the devastating darkness.

diana doesn't forget. she keeps him safe in the corner of her heart, his watch ticking quietly away in her handbag, echoing the beating of her heart. diana doesn't forget, but she comes to love another, one who had come along ninety-nine years to the day, catching her off-guard with bright blue-green eyes and a smile that is so much like his. jim kirk, he tells her with a twinkle in his eye and diana could almost swear it is him reborn, from the charming wit to the way he looks at her and says her name. he's the ghost of him, a spitting image of steve that makes her heart skip a beat -- more time, he'd said. he wished they had more time.

but they're different men even if so much of kirk resonates with steve, and she reminds herself of that all the time. her days are a little brighter all the same, and when she kisses him for the first time, her heart feels a little more full. so she kisses him again, and again, and wonders what steve would think of it all.

diana knows it's unfair, how she can't shake steve from her memory, how it sometimes clouds the time she spends with kirk. it's unfair to him, when she comes to love kirk on his own merit -- his passion for the skies, his recklessly loving nature, the depth of his emotion and his care for others, the scars he carries from so much loss. his flirtatious nature, too, and that wit -- and diana eventually finds it easier to move on.

it's still unfair, but it's easier now, when kirk fills up the spaces in her heart and it's guilt that creeps in with it; would steve forgive her for this, would he blame her? he wouldn't, he's not that kind of man, but she thinks on it all the same this morning on the day of his anniversary.

she wakes before kirk does, pulling on a robe and closing it with a sash after pressing a soft, loving kiss to his forehead. she will have to get flowers later, when she visits his grave and clears the weeds from the tombstone, knowing all the while that there's no body underneath it. she lingers by the window when she pulls open the curtains, letting the early morning light in. ]

[He may remind her of Steve Trevor but he's never met another woman anything like her before. Sure Kirk knows beautiful women. He knows women who can kick his ass. He knows several who have both qualities. Diana is just... different. She has the distinction of being one of the only people who can distract him from the Enterprise, even for a moment and that's just not easy to do.

He knows she has skeletons in her closet. Secrets that she keeps close to her chest. He's noticed that she's been getting progressively quieter over the last week. But he doesn't ask because he has skeletons and scars too and he gets it. Life isn't fair. The universe doesn't care if you grow up without a father or if you lose a lover or if your brother runs away at fourteen or if you can never go home again. He doesn't push, because he doesn't like it when people push on his scars but he wonders.

He watches.]

You're up early, [commented from the bed, still wrapped in a sheet and just a sheet (wink) and his hair looks ridiculous like it always does in the morning since he started growing it out and a little smile on his face. He has a meeting with Spock later, a promise to grab lunch with Bones, an afternoon of arguing with Scotty about how they can't do that to the Enterprise but he doesn't want to move just yet.]

Penny for your thoughts?

[ Not going to lie, Jim Kirk is another exceptional specimen of a man -- being with the captain of the Enterprise is not something that happens every day. Diana knows of history, of legends, but she does not know space, the vast reaches and limitless impossibilities and the galaxies that lie beyond.

She likes listening to him speak of other civilisations, other beings so removed from their own, and Diana is very sure that Jim's aware of just how to make use of that to get himself laid. Not that she minds all that much -- he does have much to offer, but she's more interested in what's underneath, the things he doesn't say when he's sober, the things he lets spill when intoxicated. Like his father, for one. She doesn't push him to tell her, but she makes a note of it anyway, just in case.

Jim keeps secrets, too. Skeletons locked away neatly in a closet, scars she's traced her lips over in heated nights, and the scars that don't show up physically. Diana observes him, too, her interest and fascination with him extending beyond just what she sees on the surface. No, Jim has so much more to offer, and when he speaks up, she turns to look over her shoulder, a small smile tugging at her mouth. Yes, she notices -- what a fine specimen, indeed. Leagues above average, and she's sure he knows that, too.

He looks especially handsome in the morning light, hair mussed and smiling, and she speaks up after a moment, contemplating just what to say that won't sound like a cop out or a lie. ]

I'm visiting the tomb of a friend this afternoon. [ She says at length, stepping towards him. ] You remind me a little of him.

[He hasn't used an Enterprise story to get laid in over a year, okay. He's thirty now and the captain of the Fleet's flagship. He's a mature man.

Whatever he thought she was going to say, what she actually says wasn't it. Obvious by the way his eyebrows draw together and he sits up a little straighter, something he always does when faced with something he didn't expect. Like he's preparing himself for a fight and who knows if that came from Iowa or from his years on the Enterprise. Jim Kirk doesn't like being caught off guard and his defenses show it.]

Old boyfriend? Or was he just a charming and handsome hero of the Federation too?

[ That Jim hasn't used his stories about his adventures on the Enterprise to get laid is impressive; it's the quickest way to get someone in your bed when you're the captain of the Federation's flagship with accolades tucked in your belt. Diana has done her research on him, drawn at first to the uncanny likeness, but had stayed for his innate kindness, his courage and quick wit. He is an emissary of the best of what mankind has to offer: a burning curiosity for what lay in the stars beyond, and a desire for peace.

But more than that, he's someone she has become tremendously fond of -- that he's an incredible lover definitely helps, and it's a dangerous position to be in when the good captain's reputation for womanising precedes him.

Even so, Diana takes a chance; he sparks something in her that had been so long dormant that she had privately feared had been extinguished forever, a reminder that maybe hope is not lost, that mankind won't eventually destroy themselves just because they can -- because men like Steve Trevor, Jim Kirk, they remind her of what mankind can be, good and noble in the face of calamity.

She smiles, because she's very aware of Jim's reaction -- those defense mechanisms are definitely working, and she understands. Jim, you see, leaves before he gets hurt; it's how he's always been. Diana is careful, aware. ]

He's a great man who died in the first world war. [ How distant it must be for Jim; how he will only know it as words on a textbook, questions on a test he didn't study for but excelled in all the same.

What would Steve and Diana have been to each other if they had more time? She loved him, loves him still -- but now in the way one loves a ghost, a cherished, precious memory that she cannot allow to consume her. ]

He gave his life so others could live. [ She reaches out, fingers brushing over his chin as she gently draws him in for a kiss, soft and sweet. Nothing to fear. ]

Does that remind you of someone? [ Yes, she's heard the stories. ]

[She should record the way his expression shifts, from incredulous and not quite believing her to annoyed to trying to hide it in less than ten seconds. It's a marvelous feat. Even the sweet kiss doesn't distract him into complacency.

He doesn't like talking about his dad. It's that simple. He's more or less made his peace with the fact that he's now older than his father ever was, that he could have lived a life where his dad raised him and saw him captain the Enterprise, that he has someone else's memories of it rattling around his head, that he doesn't have to be George he can just be Jim. There's nothing to gain from lamenting over a man who's been dead for thirty years and honestly. If it came down to it. Jim doesn't think he'd trade this life for the other one. Maybe that makes him selfish because then Vulcan would be around but that's what it is.

And the time he crawled into a warp core and didn't manage to crawl back out but managed to survive anyway? Well he just pretends like that never happened. It's caused a few fights between him and Bones but he sat through his mandated therapy sessions, he's proved himself capable of command again and if he has nightmares sometimes, then it's good his walls are thick. Because the alternative is to admit that death was absolutely nothing and he liked it.

The official record lists him as close to death, in critical condition but in the hands of a brilliant doctor who saved his life. He wonders how much she really knows. If she knows the real truth or the truth that Starfleet fed the public.]

It reminds me of several people. [He moves her hand from his face, gentle but firm about it.]

Starfleet is a big fan of noble sacrifices.

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