Sometimes You Get Marshmallows (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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where_no_woman2009-10-18 09:03 pm
florahart) wrote in where_no_woman2009-10-18 09:03 pm
Entry tags:
Gaila ficlets: "Figure of Speech" and "Four Lights"
Today, I "drabbled" at ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
bridge2sickbay, and it turned out I had Gaila on the brain. Thus, two short Gaila ficlets, neither of them porny, one set during the movie and one assuming her survival afterward.
The prompt theme over there this week was quotes from other non-reboot Trek series; the idea was to take these quotes and apply them to the reboot character(s) given in the ~20 minutes allotted.
Title: Figure of Speech
Words: 550
Warnings: none
Prompt: Gaila, Uhura; He seems reasonably self-aware, to me. (From TNG, Picard defending Data's humanity)
A/N: takes place immediately after Uhura kicks Kirk out of the dorm room.
Figure of Speech
"He's a huge dick, Gaila." Nyota crossed her arms under her bra.
"Not all of him! Plus, I like that part!" Gaila had been trying to be more attuned to what her roommate needed as far as their shared space, but she was still herself.
"Seriously. First time I met him, he practically agreed he had sex with farm animals, and he's just kept right on." Nyota tapped one finger on her other arm, then pursed her lips and went back to changing her clothes, missing the look on Gaila's face entirely.
"…I didn't realize you, um. Is that what you think?" Gaila's voice was quiet.
"I mean, I know he was... Wait, what?" Nyota turned to see Gaila, who was usually so bubbly, was looking at the floor.
"You said, he slept with farm animals and then indicated your opinion that this is still the case. As he and I--"
"Oh. Oh, shit. No. Not..." Nyota sat down with a thump, ignoring the way her shirt was half-buttoned and her clothes were piled untidily. "Shit. Gaila, I meant, he was being a pig, and I told him he was a pig and he joked about it, and now he's still being… I don't think you're a farm animal."
Gaila looked up slowly. "You're not just saying that, are you? I know… Sometimes people have ideas about what I did, or was, or, um. It wouldn't be the first time the comparison has been made."
Nyota shook her head. "I swear, I didn't mean it like that, and I'm sorry I didn't think. I didn't--I just don't like the guy. I think he thinks with his penis, and doesn't consider what's good for anyone, himself included. I don't want him treating you like just another in the long line of girls."
"But I am just another, and it's just sex, and …you don't agree, do you?"
"Not really. I mean, it is just sex, but I think you deserve someone who's more than a walking hormone."
Gaila licked her lips. "People generally think--and they have a point, biochemically--that I am a walking hormone."
Nyota sighed. "I know. I really am sorry I didn't think about that. I want the best for you, and it's your body and you don't need my permission but if you like him, then you like him. Even if he's a dick."
"He hasn't been, to me, you know. I mean, he wanted something, which I knew and he was up-front about, but he hasn't acted like I was a giant green piece of, is it piece of ass?"
"It is, and you aren't, and I'm glad. He's usually not so, I don't know. It sometimes seems like he's barely even self-aware, much less decent."
Gaila nodded. "He seems reasonably self-aware, to me. Troubled, maybe, and horny, but these are things I am familiar with, and do not mind."
"Are we okay?" Nyota gestured back and forth between them.
"Of course." Gaila smiled gingerly. "I am glad you do not think I am a farm animal."
"And I," Nyota said, dropping down to crouch in front of Gaila, "am glad you told me when I said something stupid."
"Maybe we should acquire some chocolate. Just to …seal the deal?"
Nyota grinned. "You're on."
Title: Four Lights
Words: 700
Warnings: Reference to nonspecific emotional baggage.
Prompt: Any character; There. Are. FOUR. Lights. (From TNG, Picard being tortured by a Cardassian).
A/N: Assumes Gaila survived the battle of Vulcan. It only just now occurred to me that both of these are from Picard-under-strain type quotes. Huh. Anyway, this one is Gaila, McCoy, Jim, and an unnamed OC counselor.
Four Lights
It's difficult to form words for two reasons. First, Gaila's jaw was broken and her windpipe crushed when she hit the panel as the bridge decompressed (she has no idea who threw her on the turbolift, and she's a little afraid when she finds out that will be another ghost she has to be thankful to). It's healed now, but it's still sore. That's not the larger reason.
The main thing is this: there are four individual light sources above the sink in the room to which she's been assigned while she heals, and she can't speak while they're on. And she can't explain--can, physically, but that's not the issue--that they can't be on. That making her look at them there is cruel. That they hold meaning which, when she is no longer so vulnerable as she feels here, she will be able to explain. Right now, she feels tears gathering behind her eyes and opens her mouth to try again to explain, but no words come.
"All right, I know you can talk," Jim says. He's leaning against the door jamb, head tilted to look past the doctor and the psychologist who have come to prod and poke at her.
She blinks back the moisture and licks her lips, because damn it, her psych profile doesn't need the hit, and she wants to beat this.
Knowing what the problem is and overcoming it are clearly not only not the same, but not even related topics.
He saunters on in--the doctor is his friend anyway, and the psychologist only puts up a token protest--and folds his arms across his chest. He looks at the psychologist. "Why isn't she talking? She usually never shuts up very much."
The psychologist starts to talk about traumatic regression and head injuries and anxiety disorders, but Jim makes a face. "Bullshit."
"Jim, you're not a doctor," says McCoy, that's his name.
"Yeah, but I might know a couple of things about all that stuff you just said. Gaila? Can you answer?"
She shakes her head, casting her eyes down, then jerking them back up when he chuckles. "Apparently you can," he says.
"She needs to talk, Jim. The night staff heard her mumbling in her sleep the last two nights, so her throat is up to it now, and like you said, you know about keeping this shit bottled up."
"Jeeze, it's only been a couple of days she's been conscious, but if you're in such a hurry, then wait for her to be asleep again, or create those conditions," Jim says with a shrug. He turns back and hits the panel beside the door, darkening the room to only the light coming from the hall.
"Thank you," Gaila says first. "Don't turn them back on," she says second. She turns to the psychologist. "I have trauma. It's not about my injuries. Please leave the lights off."
"Why the hell would you know to do that?" McCoy asks Jim.
He shrugs again. "Like we already agreed. I know something about what it feels like to look off a cliff." He looks at Gaila. "I was only coming by to see if you wanted to have lunch. I have stories to tell."
"Stories?"
"Oh, yeah. I hear you might have a couple of your own, if you want to swap." He grins. "Be good for the docs."
The psychologist scowls at him, but McCoy snorts. "You wouldn't even know what that looks like."
"Hey, I let you stab me with like fourteen hypos in the last week. Gaila, lunch?"
She smiles. "I'd like that."
When he's gone, she looks back at the psychologist, feeling stronger now. "The lights--four, in a row, like that--mean something in my culture. I'd rather not discuss it now, but I'm willing to talk about the battle."
The psychologist shakes her head and turns to go. "If you can talk about that, then we don't need to."
"This is a paradox," Gaila notes.
"Sure is," McCoy agrees. "I hate paradoxes, but they beat the shit out of death."
"This is true." Gaila pauses. "I'll need to talk about the lights, eventually."
"Call me when you're ready."
bridge2sickbay, and it turned out I had Gaila on the brain. Thus, two short Gaila ficlets, neither of them porny, one set during the movie and one assuming her survival afterward.The prompt theme over there this week was quotes from other non-reboot Trek series; the idea was to take these quotes and apply them to the reboot character(s) given in the ~20 minutes allotted.
Title: Figure of Speech
Words: 550
Warnings: none
Prompt: Gaila, Uhura; He seems reasonably self-aware, to me. (From TNG, Picard defending Data's humanity)
A/N: takes place immediately after Uhura kicks Kirk out of the dorm room.
Figure of Speech
"He's a huge dick, Gaila." Nyota crossed her arms under her bra.
"Not all of him! Plus, I like that part!" Gaila had been trying to be more attuned to what her roommate needed as far as their shared space, but she was still herself.
"Seriously. First time I met him, he practically agreed he had sex with farm animals, and he's just kept right on." Nyota tapped one finger on her other arm, then pursed her lips and went back to changing her clothes, missing the look on Gaila's face entirely.
"…I didn't realize you, um. Is that what you think?" Gaila's voice was quiet.
"I mean, I know he was... Wait, what?" Nyota turned to see Gaila, who was usually so bubbly, was looking at the floor.
"You said, he slept with farm animals and then indicated your opinion that this is still the case. As he and I--"
"Oh. Oh, shit. No. Not..." Nyota sat down with a thump, ignoring the way her shirt was half-buttoned and her clothes were piled untidily. "Shit. Gaila, I meant, he was being a pig, and I told him he was a pig and he joked about it, and now he's still being… I don't think you're a farm animal."
Gaila looked up slowly. "You're not just saying that, are you? I know… Sometimes people have ideas about what I did, or was, or, um. It wouldn't be the first time the comparison has been made."
Nyota shook her head. "I swear, I didn't mean it like that, and I'm sorry I didn't think. I didn't--I just don't like the guy. I think he thinks with his penis, and doesn't consider what's good for anyone, himself included. I don't want him treating you like just another in the long line of girls."
"But I am just another, and it's just sex, and …you don't agree, do you?"
"Not really. I mean, it is just sex, but I think you deserve someone who's more than a walking hormone."
Gaila licked her lips. "People generally think--and they have a point, biochemically--that I am a walking hormone."
Nyota sighed. "I know. I really am sorry I didn't think about that. I want the best for you, and it's your body and you don't need my permission but if you like him, then you like him. Even if he's a dick."
"He hasn't been, to me, you know. I mean, he wanted something, which I knew and he was up-front about, but he hasn't acted like I was a giant green piece of, is it piece of ass?"
"It is, and you aren't, and I'm glad. He's usually not so, I don't know. It sometimes seems like he's barely even self-aware, much less decent."
Gaila nodded. "He seems reasonably self-aware, to me. Troubled, maybe, and horny, but these are things I am familiar with, and do not mind."
"Are we okay?" Nyota gestured back and forth between them.
"Of course." Gaila smiled gingerly. "I am glad you do not think I am a farm animal."
"And I," Nyota said, dropping down to crouch in front of Gaila, "am glad you told me when I said something stupid."
"Maybe we should acquire some chocolate. Just to …seal the deal?"
Nyota grinned. "You're on."
Title: Four Lights
Words: 700
Warnings: Reference to nonspecific emotional baggage.
Prompt: Any character; There. Are. FOUR. Lights. (From TNG, Picard being tortured by a Cardassian).
A/N: Assumes Gaila survived the battle of Vulcan. It only just now occurred to me that both of these are from Picard-under-strain type quotes. Huh. Anyway, this one is Gaila, McCoy, Jim, and an unnamed OC counselor.
Four Lights
It's difficult to form words for two reasons. First, Gaila's jaw was broken and her windpipe crushed when she hit the panel as the bridge decompressed (she has no idea who threw her on the turbolift, and she's a little afraid when she finds out that will be another ghost she has to be thankful to). It's healed now, but it's still sore. That's not the larger reason.
The main thing is this: there are four individual light sources above the sink in the room to which she's been assigned while she heals, and she can't speak while they're on. And she can't explain--can, physically, but that's not the issue--that they can't be on. That making her look at them there is cruel. That they hold meaning which, when she is no longer so vulnerable as she feels here, she will be able to explain. Right now, she feels tears gathering behind her eyes and opens her mouth to try again to explain, but no words come.
"All right, I know you can talk," Jim says. He's leaning against the door jamb, head tilted to look past the doctor and the psychologist who have come to prod and poke at her.
She blinks back the moisture and licks her lips, because damn it, her psych profile doesn't need the hit, and she wants to beat this.
Knowing what the problem is and overcoming it are clearly not only not the same, but not even related topics.
He saunters on in--the doctor is his friend anyway, and the psychologist only puts up a token protest--and folds his arms across his chest. He looks at the psychologist. "Why isn't she talking? She usually never shuts up very much."
The psychologist starts to talk about traumatic regression and head injuries and anxiety disorders, but Jim makes a face. "Bullshit."
"Jim, you're not a doctor," says McCoy, that's his name.
"Yeah, but I might know a couple of things about all that stuff you just said. Gaila? Can you answer?"
She shakes her head, casting her eyes down, then jerking them back up when he chuckles. "Apparently you can," he says.
"She needs to talk, Jim. The night staff heard her mumbling in her sleep the last two nights, so her throat is up to it now, and like you said, you know about keeping this shit bottled up."
"Jeeze, it's only been a couple of days she's been conscious, but if you're in such a hurry, then wait for her to be asleep again, or create those conditions," Jim says with a shrug. He turns back and hits the panel beside the door, darkening the room to only the light coming from the hall.
"Thank you," Gaila says first. "Don't turn them back on," she says second. She turns to the psychologist. "I have trauma. It's not about my injuries. Please leave the lights off."
"Why the hell would you know to do that?" McCoy asks Jim.
He shrugs again. "Like we already agreed. I know something about what it feels like to look off a cliff." He looks at Gaila. "I was only coming by to see if you wanted to have lunch. I have stories to tell."
"Stories?"
"Oh, yeah. I hear you might have a couple of your own, if you want to swap." He grins. "Be good for the docs."
The psychologist scowls at him, but McCoy snorts. "You wouldn't even know what that looks like."
"Hey, I let you stab me with like fourteen hypos in the last week. Gaila, lunch?"
She smiles. "I'd like that."
When he's gone, she looks back at the psychologist, feeling stronger now. "The lights--four, in a row, like that--mean something in my culture. I'd rather not discuss it now, but I'm willing to talk about the battle."
The psychologist shakes her head and turns to go. "If you can talk about that, then we don't need to."
"This is a paradox," Gaila notes.
"Sure is," McCoy agrees. "I hate paradoxes, but they beat the shit out of death."
"This is true." Gaila pauses. "I'll need to talk about the lights, eventually."
"Call me when you're ready."
no subject
Very nice!
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no subject
*loves Jim*
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no subject