Star Trek
Fic, the final frontier… 19,122 / 28
The edge, a line, is a concept of two dimensions. The tip, a point, is a concept of one.
And time is the fourth. And space is the third.
And Spock will be dissatisfied in all of them, forever.
And time is the fourth. And space is the third.
And Spock will be dissatisfied in all of them, forever.
Slow, and gentle, a ripple issuing from the instance of time.
Uhura could rely on her best guys for anything - including completely hamming it up.
Implicit: subtle and sweet.
If you must take issue...well, then grasp it by the horns.
Both were equally afraid of seeing the other again, by the end of it.
Everybody settle in, now.
Age not just before beauty, but with, and leading, and travelling on.
Help me, Bones had said in the Klingon sickbay, help me, and he hadn't meant help me help you, let me help, but damn it, he's a doctor, isn't he? So of course that's what he'd meant. We'd all like to believe.
Human rituals were such an odd dance.
Please, by all means, go right on quoting (indeed, not quite citing) regulations - even the most overdone clichés.
Jim has a question.
Something almost like a smile crosses the Vulcan's face. Certainly, it's throwing victory.
"You were worried."
"You were worried."
What it says on the tin! Variety and restraint are for the birds.
Jim is a creature of habit. So is Spock.
What if she was right? What if he was lost?
Spock sees the blood. He cannot but see it. Yet, he questions why it should bleed, and bleed, and bleed.
It is there, to make a radical statement; and his cavernous humanity elides.
It is there, to make a radical statement; and his cavernous humanity elides.
washed up on the sea shore
Isn't that how the saying goes...verbing someone's tits off?
Just a little moment, no surprises here.
There's nothing quite like being the First.
There is much to be said for intraplanetary and interpersonal persuasions.
It takes time to come to terms with his emotions. Of course, in multiple ways.
Mr. Spock has a quandary. There's not much more to it than that.
"What did you just call me, Captain?"
What do you do when being illogical is sometimes...endearing?
What do you do when being illogical is sometimes...endearing?
Perhaps the captain's general lack of fine digital motor flexibility isn't so great of an issue after all.
Not a will-they or won't-they, per se, but a gentle perspective on what it should mean, and then what it does thereafter. I hope you'll find the title appropriately mounted in irony and inside jokes.
...is what the summary was going to be, and then I found that this title no longer fit my fully genuine interpretation. It fits here; three cheers for silly spirk, or something like that.
...is what the summary was going to be, and then I found that this title no longer fit my fully genuine interpretation. It fits here; three cheers for silly spirk, or something like that.
What is? What is...?