Spock grabs his arm, and the burst surprise from Jim likely flows through both of them. He can't focus on it for too long, though, quick to catch up to where Spock is leading them, more water rushing in, quickly eroding the ground beneath them. Jim's got a knack for survival, sure, but Spock is clearly several calculations ahead of him, and sometimes it's wise to let him do his thing, and wait for human intuition to kick in.
"So we've got four minutes," Jim translates, determination settling in over his shoulders. Spock is still holding onto his arm, keeping him in place, which while it's a boon now - it'll definitely be an issue as the water rises. And it is an issue, though it's becoming perfectly apparent that Spock doesn't seem to think it one. Jim's exasperation, if it weren't already understood via touch telepathy, is easily translated in his expression. "Commander, that's quitter talk. These challenges can have two winners, and we're going for the gold."
They stop in Spock's chosen location, the water easily hitting their knees now, the current already pulling strongly at them. It's only going to be worse as it gets higher, and when Spock turns to him, Jim grasps his forearm securely in return. "To hell with your odds, Spock! We're not going to - "
The interruption is abrupt and cold. So very cold, dousing them both - if gooseflesh is rising on Jim's previously heat-kissed skin, he knows it's on Spock's, too. And quite seriously, aside from the fact that Jim doesn't believe in no win scenarios, he's not letting Spock succumb to freezing cold water. It'll hurt his Vulcan companion a lot more than it'll hurt him, so if anyone is giving up, it's him, and also no one is giving up. Sacrifice plays come last, not first, and Jim's sticking to it.
The water swallows them whole, and for a second Jim's vision is clouded, his whole body submerged in buffeting water. His hand clenches down tighter on Spock's forearm - the current is trying to rip them apart, but Jim slides his arm up, hooking their elbows together. He flutter kicks upwards, hauling with all his strength - he's sure Spock is also kicking, or he hopes he is, and not simply waiting to sink to the bottom like the obstinate bastard he is.
Jim's head finally breaks above water, right as his lungs begin to burn, and he coughs, sucking in warm air. It would be funny, the way the wave has waterlogged the stupid sweatband on his head, but his hands find Spock's chest, trying to make sure he follows him to breaking above the water.
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"So we've got four minutes," Jim translates, determination settling in over his shoulders. Spock is still holding onto his arm, keeping him in place, which while it's a boon now - it'll definitely be an issue as the water rises. And it is an issue, though it's becoming perfectly apparent that Spock doesn't seem to think it one. Jim's exasperation, if it weren't already understood via touch telepathy, is easily translated in his expression. "Commander, that's quitter talk. These challenges can have two winners, and we're going for the gold."
They stop in Spock's chosen location, the water easily hitting their knees now, the current already pulling strongly at them. It's only going to be worse as it gets higher, and when Spock turns to him, Jim grasps his forearm securely in return. "To hell with your odds, Spock! We're not going to - "
The interruption is abrupt and cold. So very cold, dousing them both - if gooseflesh is rising on Jim's previously heat-kissed skin, he knows it's on Spock's, too. And quite seriously, aside from the fact that Jim doesn't believe in no win scenarios, he's not letting Spock succumb to freezing cold water. It'll hurt his Vulcan companion a lot more than it'll hurt him, so if anyone is giving up, it's him, and also no one is giving up. Sacrifice plays come last, not first, and Jim's sticking to it.
The water swallows them whole, and for a second Jim's vision is clouded, his whole body submerged in buffeting water. His hand clenches down tighter on Spock's forearm - the current is trying to rip them apart, but Jim slides his arm up, hooking their elbows together. He flutter kicks upwards, hauling with all his strength - he's sure Spock is also kicking, or he hopes he is, and not simply waiting to sink to the bottom like the obstinate bastard he is.
Jim's head finally breaks above water, right as his lungs begin to burn, and he coughs, sucking in warm air. It would be funny, the way the wave has waterlogged the stupid sweatband on his head, but his hands find Spock's chest, trying to make sure he follows him to breaking above the water.