bakerstreet | thursday pic prompt

Very pretty hair. Most men seem to really love long hair, and Jim's-- well, Jim's almost an exception, because he doesn't actually care one way or the other. It's the way Nyota uses hers like a well-crafted extension of her body that ends up distracting him like a crow presented with something shiny. He wants to see it when she doesn't do it straight, too, as he suspects it's even more beautiful, but he also doesn't want to get the My Patience Is Thinning, White Boy look. Someday he'll magically think of the right words and ask.

"But you found one!" he says, grinning. "And you were smiling at me at first before I got my face kicked in. I knew. I could sense you were there looking for Iowan losers with questionable relations with farm animals. Little did you know you'd end up here, instead of using me in a science project..." Jim rolls onto his back, head upside down over the edge of the bed. Still smiling.

Oh, that is a look Nyota probably gives him at least three times a day, but it's Jim. If she doesn't have a reason to look at him that way, she knows something is very wrong. When that someday comes, she'll be willing to sate his curiosity. After all, Nyota may take no bullshit, but she's rather flexible in helping clueless guys learn a thing or two, plus showing him a part of her no one but family has ever seen is incredibly intimate. They may have reached that point by now.

"I was smiling because you were pathetic and if I didn't smile, I'd cry over how sorry you looked." And now she's laughing, getting up from the vanity to stand right above him which means that with her being clad in one of Jim's long sleeved civilian shirts and no pants, he has a fine opportunity to an equally as fine view if he just craned his neck just so. Also if she let him, even though he's seen what's under there more than once. "Even if I had told you my name, there was a full guarantee you wouldn't have remembered it in five minutes if Hendorff didn't beat it into you. I was on a search for Iowan morons with little to no brain damage. I'm still not sure I found what I was looking for then."

At least he knows what that look is and tries to evolve to a higher plane of existence where he inspires it less, right? ... Right?? Well, anyway, as far as insufferable white boys go, he's not half bad. And he's never actually fucked a farm animal!

OOohhh, hello. Jim makes a playful first effort to peek under the shirt, but decides he'd rather reach up and try to grab her hands, lace their fingers together, even upside down and still smiling like the goofball he is.

"I remember everything," he insists, "Not even Cupcake can make a dent in my hard head."

Credit is given when credit is due. Uhura is not that cruel a mistress. There have been a lot of insufferable white boys in her life and Jim is maybe eight on the list of the top ten. It wasn't too long ago where he was number one.

Before he can move his head too much, she's leaning down to give it a gentle shove in the opposite direction. Of course that's not really needed when Jim actually decides to behave and next thing Uhura knows, they're holding hands in a rather strange position with him looking up at her like a moron.

But he's her moron so anything else doesn't matter. That smile is infectious and she can't help but share it with him.

"Really? Then when's my birthday?"

Edited 2016-09-10 05:10 (UTC)

"You insult me," he chides, and wiggles their hands. "January nineteenth, 2233. Just over two weeks after mine. I got you a contraband Romulan dictionary for your last one. Hell of a party. You got drunk enough to wear the paper tiara."

Ain't no party like an Enterprise crew party.

"C'mere." Jim smiles, doing his best puppy-eyes-plus-sunshine, tugging her forward gently. Which is dumb, because he's upside down, but he wants to cuddle.

"But you make it so easy," Nyota whines playfully as if her fun completely rides on knocking Jim down a few pegs. Okay, maybe it does, but not completely one hundred percent so. Like a good seventy percent, okay?

She breaks the handhold specifically to poke one of her long fingers between his ribs. "I miss that tiara. I think I put it on Pavel for one second and I have no idea where it went after that. There needs to be a Starfleet regulation that punishes theft of birthday tiaras somewhere."

And an Enterprise crew party don't stop. Because that was the best birthday party she'd ever had and nothing can top it except for that dictionary. It's not something she particularly needs, but it's her favorite thing in the galaxy and she barely touches it for fear of ruining something so precious.

Letting him practically drag her where he wants her, Uhura sighs like she's forever put upon before climbing over Jim's head and shifting around to rest beside him. Her head's on his bare shoulder, ponytail trailing over the rest of his arm and she snakes a leg between his. He's warm and solid, scented of the soap the resort provived for them in their welcome basket, Jim a tangible being for her to sink against and find her sweet spot.

"Feel like going anywhere today?" Her usual carefully crafted speech pattern slips into something a little more casual, something a little more just for Jim's ears. It's almost unnoticeable if someone doesn't realize Uhura doesn't habitually drop words, letting context carry her meaning through instead. This way, the things she says are less guarded and much more a show of how comfortable she is in the current moment. And with him.

It's a little ridiculous, the things he tries to do for her - birthday presents elude Jim in general, being a terrible shopper and someone who doesn't value material things much in the first place, a combination of a lack of history with the practice and Terran culture's eschewing of the cult of wealth generations ago. But Nyota's his girl, who deserves everything rare and beautiful, and he turns into a child trying to find pearls in the sand for her.

He knows how much listening means to her, so he always listens very carefully. Changes in her speech patterns, the volume and inflection of each word... sure, joining the Xenolinguistics Club at the Academy had been partially about following her around like the worst puppy, but he's also good at it, to the annoyance of many. (How he ended up treasurer of a club in a society that doesn't use money or have a currency is anyone's guess.) He understands this part of her.

Jim winds an arm around her back, holding her close and booping his nose on her forehead before placing a kiss there. He puts his other hand on her hip, thumb describing small circles there. "Mm.. we could go tiara shopping."

She can't say she's crazy over material items, but the ones Nyota is given by Jim mean the most to her. There the small pieces of planetary gems she keeps tucked in a secret corner of her jewelry box, wrapped in velvet to prevent scratches. It's that dictionary given it's own space on her bookshelf, dusted on a weekly basis. Nyota knows he puts a piece of him into finding gifts that make her smile and it makes her even more appreciative that he puts in the work.

Nyota huffs a breath that's more of a laugh than an exhale of air as she lightly runs her fingertips up the side of his ribs. "But it wouldn't be the same. It was a very special tiara, Jim." Another huff and then a sigh. "Besides, going out for one means we'd have to get dressed."

Something she isn't quite in the mood to do. Cuddling is much more preferable.

"You raise very good points," he says, more than happy to invest some time in lazy cuddling. They get in plenty of cuddling time on the Enterprise, but it's usually a last resort kind of thing, something to be done while exhausted, versus this carefree, half-giddy sort.

"We could go out later." Jim tucks himself closer to her, a ridiculous over-grown puppy whom no one should put up with, honestly-- but he's so cute!! And loyal. And he'll go fetch. "Or do room service."

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