bakerstreet | The Attached Meme

The Attached Meme

The Attached Meme

Inspired by the Star Trek: The Next Generation episode of the same name.

Comment with your character, specifying name, canon, and gen/shipping/smut preferences, and/or tag someone else.
You and the other person now have two problems. One, you're aware of each other's surface thoughts regardless of either of your wishes, and two, if you try to distance yourselves from each other you're struck with nausea and vertigo until you manage to get close again.
Optionally, roll for or choose details:
1. You've been captured by some hostile force and had devices surgically implanted into the backs of your necks in order to facilitate interrogation. The mental link between you and dependency on proximity are just side-effects. Can you escape under these conditions?
2. You've been cursed by a spellcaster or supernatural being who wants you to "learn a lesson". Whether that's a real lesson about each other made possible by forced openness and time spent together or just the lesson of "don't mess with me" is an open question, and figuring it out may be key to having the curse broken...
3. One of you has suddenly awakened to latent paranormal powers, or your existing powers are suddenly misbehaving -- perhaps due to unforeseen interaction with the other person's abilities, if they have them. Maybe you could solve this, or at least the part about having to stay near each other, if you could only gain control over your power...
4. You were both willingly part of a scientific experiment, whether one of your own design or something you both volunteered for, and this... was not the result you signed up for. The mental link may or may not have been a known goal, but the involuntary aspect and the inability to separate aren't things either of you expected. Can science undo what it has done?
5. You both came into contact with an unknown substance, whether by accident or simply because of mutual curiosity, and this was the result. Now if you're going to be able to have privacy relative to each other again, you're going to have to figure out what it is and why it had the effect on you it did in order to find a way to counteract it.
6. Your choice, or something new!
Have fun!

[[ooc: I'd love to rp off your Kirk, so not at all! Would you prefer they ran into each other before or this is a first time their time lines have encountered each other?]]

((OOC: Awesome! How about some standard form of ionic storm and boom, one young Captain in the wrong timeline? Or Bones could come to him. Also amusing.))

((ooc: Sounds good to me, maybe on an away mission?))

So here he is, staring at people in familiar uniforms who stare back at him without familiar faces. Jim's faced these situations before and his hand is already on his communicator. "Uh. Hi there. Sorry, wrong transporter room," he says, trying to be a little sing songy about the way he speaks, as if the accident is really nothing major at all. As if ending up in some other ship's buffer happens from time to time.

It isn't.

It doesn't.

"Didn't know any other Federation ships were this far out," he says, and goes to step off of the platform only to have two security officers intercept him. Jim's eyes narrow. "It's all right, fellas. My name is Captain James T. Kirk of the USS. Enterprise. Go ahead. Look it up. I'll wait."

The transporter chief behind the console blinks at him and then at the man in medical or science blues standing to his left. When he speaks, it's in a Scottish accent. "What'll you have me do with 'im?"

McCoy was right in the middle of glancing again at the PAD, at all the files that were gonna need updating after this trip - particularly those megaflora near the oasis, especially after that bout of solar flares. Considering the outposts in this area relied on it heavily as an antibiotic, it was going to be a world of trouble if they found it suddenly poisonous-

He never got further. McCoy had looked up just then when the transporter came to life. A familiar outline materialized with an equally familiar hum. McCoy started to breath that silent sigh of relief every time that thing didn't go haywire, then froze when the shape solidified.

This was Jim, but not his version. The Captain was about as baby-faced as he'd been when they'd first met. At least that much was obvious from the start, unlike last time. For one second, he almost checked to see if he was going to have a younger Spock with him. He hoped to God he didn't see a beard on him. Dealing with anything like that hell had been plenty.

He was certain it was him though. Only Kirk pulled that amount of smart ass and smooth charm, like he'd only gotten off at the wrong floor. It reminded him of that first meeting; Kirk had been laid out, shoulda been getting bed rest for the next several days, and McCoy had walked in on him mid-flirt with a nurse with ten years on him and half-way dressed to leave. When Kirk turned that devastating smile on him and tried wheedling to let him out early, cranking up the charm all the way, McCoy knew he had trouble on his hands. The worst part was that he'd almost given in too!

Running into another universe once is more any sane man should have to go through, McCoy thought sourly, and the less you did it, the better. Or time travel. Time travel was something else a man could happily live his entire life without. It was either those possibilities or this was his Captain, aged down and hopefully not aging further with each hour.

McCoy leaned in towards Scotty, speaking under his breath. "I'm taking him to sick bay. Can you post some security outside and find Spock?" He gave the transporter pad a dour look. "And it might be a good idea to check that thing."

He turned towards Kirk, tucking the PAD under his arm. "I'm not having you waiting on that pad, blocking it up. Come on."

Edited (typo) 2014-03-19 00:40 (UTC)

Sick bay? Sick bay sounded like a bad idea. He glanced between the two men with a morbid sense of curiosity about him and narrowed his eyes ever so slightly when he just so happened to overhear 'Spock' in the mix. The hard sounds of his first officer's name were sort of ingrained in his brain. That was not his choice. He always got too caught up in his arguments with Uhura and she was very fond of overusing the Vulcan's name.

Annoying.

He side eyed security and and strode towards the man talking to him with a look he recognized and eyes he knew even better.

"Time travel now?" Yeah, that probably could have been louder, but not much. The personnel in the transporter bay all glanced at one another and Kirk zipped his lips shut with a smirk and a finger waggle at his best friend. Funny, he thought to himself. Almost got me. Clever trick. How did they find a guy that looked so much like Bones might a few decades in the future? He bet Scotty was behind this.

He was going to take away his shore leave! Not that Scotty would mind. His chief engineer seemed to be a little bit in love with the Enterprise. He'd take away his tech manuals then!

Resolutely following 'Bones' to the sick bay, Jim glanced at the unfamiliar hallways with a growing sense of discomfort. Something wasn't right at all. He knew every class of ship in the fleet and this didn't really match any of them.

McCoy looked at him sharply when Jim blurted out that out, almost the very moment he'd thought it. Then again, with everything they'd gone through and how close he was to the Captain, coming to a similar conclusion was bound to happen. Glad one of them thought there was anything funny about this. Maybe in that sense that if anyone was going to root out the strangest damned things to happen to a person, it was going to be the Enterprise.

The doctor led the way, keeping half an eye on him as he headed for the closest elevator. With any luck, Spock would be found and they'd come at the problem from two sides, while he silently went on hoping there wasn't a life-threatening deadline to Jim's "condition".

What McCoy couldn't explain was the growing sense of unease going down his back, less anxiety and an expectation he'd find a knife in his ribs like when they'd been on that other Enterprise and more like he'd walked into somewhere that should seem familiar but wasn't. McCoy tried to cover it up by leading Jim towards the elevator at a brisk pace. He pushed the button, then turned to him. Lord, he was never going to get used to looking him in the face and seeing him like this.

"So what's the last thing you remember?"

Since when did turbo lifts have levers? Jim's stomach kept right on sinking the moment the doors whooshed shut and didn't open up again a moment later. These things shouldn't take so long. He had no idea that the intrusion of a single Romulan ship in his timeline where none had existed here could have propelled technology so fast. It had been a muse to so many, even without getting any glimpse of it. The idea alone had sparked a new Renaissance, had changed so much.

Spock Prime never really bothered to fill him in on his past. He still had Jim believing that it would rip time and space apart! Bastard.

What is going on here? the Captain wondered, lights trailing over his face before the lift stopped and the doors slid open. He almost didn't follow the medic out. Disquiet had taken the place of curiosity and wonder and he had stopped thinking, halfway down the corridor, that people were laughing as they watched him.

"My first officer and I were collecting samples of a plant my CMO wanted with a few junior botanists. I heard you mention Mr. Spock. I'd like to speak with him."

McCoy looked at the handles for a moment as if surprised to find them there, then silently gave himself a tiny shake - the lift handles were just about every starship and he'd probably given every single one on the Enterprise a death grip thanks to all the red alerts over the course of this mission.

He studied the younger Jim out of the corner of his eyes, from the way he stood to the way his jaw kind of squared itself when he was thinking something over.

A sense of disgruntlement went through him that for once wasn't his when it came to Spock. Bastard.

...What the devil?

He almost didn't notice the security Scotty had posted near sickbay. Several of the crew passed by, not laughing like he had suspected they would, but minding their business. Made sense, he thought. It wasn't like they had met Jim when he was younger, so none of them were going to think twice about a young man in gold coming down the hall.

That sounded about right, except Spock had come up a few hours earlier. Possible memory lapse of a few hours? McCoy filed that away with the tiniest of frowns.

"The commander will be down as soon as he can," McCoy said, putting the PAD down on a counter. He motioned Jim to follow him into one of the single rooms, away from the two other patients sharing the main area. He motioned to the bio-bed, pulling up a stool. "In the mean time, I want you to sit tight. Have a seat."

"The commander--" So. This was the Enterprise. But not the Enterprise. This was a joke of an older crew, but not a joke either. Though he did sit down, Jim held out his hands like he was going before a potential firing squad and turned decidedly bluer than usual eyes up at the doctor. He didn't like the disquiet. He didn't like the silence or the feeling that he knew this place without knowing it.

The Captain was a genius. Reckless, idiotic, philandering, manipulative, yes, but still a genius. There was a reason that he was the youngest Captain in Star Fleet and it didn't have a lot to do with charm. You couldn't charm a Vulcan. He knew. He tried. He just needed a moment to sort out the facts here.

Transporter trouble. Spock onboard already but had not been with him on the transporter pad. Bones' eyes. Scottish chief of engineering--

Spock Prime came to mind a moment later and with it came a groan more like McCoy's than his own.

Jim half-fizzled and then laid back in a huff, getting mud all over the bio-bed. He almost snapped at himself for that and let his legs hang over the edges instead to spare the equipment any more contamination. "I really hope your me didn't end up on my ship or my you is never going to let me live it down...especially if I get a receding hairline or a pot belly by this point," he said in an attempt to be funny. It didn't entirely work for either of them.

Edited 2014-03-19 12:33 (UTC)

Now that he was looking at him, up close and personal, McCoy could see that there were some differences. Eye color for one - seeing blue instead of brown, on top of having a younger version of Jim here was enough to make uneasy, that same twist of disquiet that came with seeing that other Spock's beard. So far, at least, this one didn't seem bloodthirsty.

Or he was waiting for an opening, he thought grimly. McCoy wished he hadn't thought it just then, but after too much time spent in that other universe, it was hard to shake that feeling like you had to watch your back.

So this likely was another Jim, so at least he didn't have to deal with Jim aging back down to nothing, which was the only plus he could see here. More brushes with other realities. Good lord. McCoy wanted to sigh. They were barely into the first week of this month and here he'd begun to think they were out of the woods when it came to finding trouble head first. That just maybe this month might be a quieter one.

McCoy got settled on the stool, smoothing back his hair and rubbing wearily at the back of his neck. He'd signed up for this, and most of the time he enjoyed the mission, but there were days - and this was one of 'em- where it aged a man early. He was in his forties going on sixty at this point. Jim (any universe's version of him) needed to come with a warning; may be hazardous to your health and add ten years to you.

"Don't worry about getting it dirty, we can sterilize it," He said absently. He leaned over, jotting more notes down, then gave him a Look. "I hope I don't let up on you, you need it. My version of you doesn't have any of those yet - 'course you could do with watching your health more before you get them. You aren't going to stay in your twenties forever.'

Fingers threaded together and settled over his chest, blue eyes or no, Jim looked like he always did at rest. There was something so stiff about him when he thought and though anyone that didn't know him might assume that this was the spitting image of a carefree captain without a care in the world, McCoy could see him for what he was, deeper down. Good captain could make the stress of it seem effortless, though their brains could never stop working, not even for a moment.

The smile on Jim's face was fleeting. "You keep threatening to take bacon out of my diet," he said before sitting up again. Restless and for good reason. He was about to open his mouth again when the door slid open and the third Spock he had met so far in his short life strode in with his arms clasped behind his back. There was something wary in Jim's eyes towards the Vulcan, who greeted him with a single raised eyebrow. "Took you long enough," he said, an attempt to be cheeky underlying something far more subtle.

Spock looked Jim over and turned to McCoy. "Doctor? A word?"

Now that riled Kirk up and he slid down off of the bio bed. "If you're going to talk about me, you might as well do it in front of me," he bristled.

Good god, they have had that look like they'd rather be anywhere else but sickbay, like two seconds lying down was going to cost them the ship. Jim might look like he was completely relaxed, but McCoy knew him well enough to know otherwise, just from that tension in his shoulders and hands. He wanted to be up and about, not sitting idle.

"That's not all he'll get you with if you continue with the way you're goin'," McCoy said with some relish. Talking about another him like he was a stranger and not him was still never going to get old. But if their version of him was McCoy at all, he only needed two guesses as to how he'd react.

With the faint relief at seeing Spock show up, was the uneasy feeling that it certainly took the Vulcan long enough. He'd just been thinking that. He needed Spock a lot earlier, but there you had it. McCoy shot the younger Jim a sharp look. Sit down. "If you're really James Kirk and a Starfleet officer, you'll understand why we gotta follow the proper procedures."

McCoy stood up, locking the PAD in a drawer and stepped outside with Spock. Always the optimist, the doctor started with, "I hope you're not going to tell me that's our Jim, or our universe is melding into theirs or one of them is imploding, or we're never getting our Captain back."

With a nose turned up at the locked desk drawn and a niggling sensation in the back of his head that he actually knew how to get into it, Jim snorted at the older versions of his friends and crew and settled back on the bed. His eyes just scanned the unfamiliar-familiar ceiling, attempting to discover why, exactly, he thought he knew every inch of the sickbay and yet, obviously did not. This wasn't his ship. His ship was a piece of art. This one seemed two generations behind.

Once secluded away from prying ears or eyes not quite the right color, Spock resumed his typical stance, feet apart and hands behind his back to gaze down at the doctor.

"Preliminary scans do not show similar circumstances to those in which we had previous encounters with parallel universes, doctor." Quick and to the point. That's our Spock. "That being said, his biological scans do not seem entirely accurate with those in the database. You, however, would be the expert on that particular fact. The margin for error is roughly two percent, which I believe is also the same marginal different between chimpanzees and humans. There is one other thing of note. This Jim Kirk's delta brain waves are impossibly high...as are yours. I have requested a sensor diagnostic to be performed immediately."

If it weren't for the fact that he was exactly where he should be and Spock was right here, McCoy would have given in to the need to pace, to look around and check and double check everything was as he left it, because there was something mighty funny about this ship-

McCoy had a brief moment of relief. He could knock some of those worst-case scenarios off. Spock, of course, was quick to find some way to take a dig at humanity any time he found a chance. A frown started on his face. Course they could always start examining what percent of similarity Vulcans and humans had. Of course a connection proven at all or had much basis, since Vulcans were from what he'd seen, an entirely different species, but it was a way to take a dig at Spock having that pesky human fifty percent to him.

Besides, what had Vulcans come from? Those lizard things he saw skittering near the arena? For Jim's sake, McCoy kept a lid on it. Barely.

"What? Why do I need a scan? I've been on the ship the entire time," McCoy got out. He kept his voice down - the walls could be damned thin when they wanted to be. He didn't bother to hide the aggravation. "And why the devil did you request a scan on me behind my back?"

"Standard procedure, Doctor," Spock said with as much respect as his otherwise emotionless voice could muster. "Anyone in the vicinity of the malfunctioning transporter had been required to undo scans, performed in the transporter room once the malfunction was detected. In this case, Mr. Scott triggered the scan. Doctor, as of now, you and this version of the Captain have nearly identical delta wave functions. I would advise more testing."

There was a movement, slight as it was, of the Vulcan's eyes towards the room at McCoy's face just before the door opened.

It turned out that Jim hadn't had to rely on thin walls. He could more of less sense the words as they were said, the indignation of the unwarned scan, and the implications of it. Jim was no longer smiling or cocky. He had no stomach for it. "Figure it out, Spock. Whatever you need to do, do it," Jim said, taking the reigns because he was still on the deed to this ship, age appropriate or not.

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The Attached Meme

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might be tl;dr, sorry

<33

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