[ It's all about to become clear, although the signs are there, if subtle. The fact that this Jim has a few less stress lines around the face, a brightness to him that hasn't been yet dimmed by arduous years spent in deep space - the novelty hasn't fully worn off yet. Jim would say they're just hitting their groove - or they were, anyway. Bones' uniform is also different, which Jim has overlooked in his excitement - it doesn't match the slightly older regs Jim arrived in (and neither of their uniforms match Spock's, which seems an entirely different color and material altogether), currently hanging in the closet back at the house.
Jim shifts the bag of books higher on his shoulder, mentally reorganizing the priorities for the day. First order of business was getting Bones somewhere he could take a breather away from prying eyes, a change of clothes, and probably a stiff drink once he was apprised of the situation. Not necessarily in that order, and frankly the drink might have to come first, considering the thunderous expression that Jim watches unfold on Bones' face - angry, uncomprehending in the face of pointless loss.
Jim can guess well enough how the rest of that story goes without the explicit details, and his smile does dim, furrow coloring his brow. Bones was plucked from the middle of a firefight, by the sounds of it - and not one Jim recognized, which was worrying for a whole other host of reasons. This time travel shit was going to start giving him grey hair, if it didn't send him into an early grave. ]
I'm going to have to stop you there. [ Jim shakes his head, leveling Bones with an evaluating look. Were they from the same timeline, just further apart in years? Or was this more multiversal nonsense? ] I guess the better question is, what's your stardate?
Mine is 2153.7. [ He holds up a hand as if to say surprise? ]
no subject
Jim shifts the bag of books higher on his shoulder, mentally reorganizing the priorities for the day. First order of business was getting Bones somewhere he could take a breather away from prying eyes, a change of clothes, and probably a stiff drink once he was apprised of the situation. Not necessarily in that order, and frankly the drink might have to come first, considering the thunderous expression that Jim watches unfold on Bones' face - angry, uncomprehending in the face of pointless loss.
Jim can guess well enough how the rest of that story goes without the explicit details, and his smile does dim, furrow coloring his brow. Bones was plucked from the middle of a firefight, by the sounds of it - and not one Jim recognized, which was worrying for a whole other host of reasons. This time travel shit was going to start giving him grey hair, if it didn't send him into an early grave. ]
I'm going to have to stop you there. [ Jim shakes his head, leveling Bones with an evaluating look. Were they from the same timeline, just further apart in years? Or was this more multiversal nonsense? ] I guess the better question is, what's your stardate?
Mine is 2153.7. [ He holds up a hand as if to say surprise? ]