Janice Rand is an organization specialist (not_a_secretary) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2012-04-21 01:23:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, james kirk, janice rand, truthiness plot |
"You all think you're from outer space."
Who: Jim Kirk, Janice Rand
What: Space talk, Kirk's explanation for the strange paintings, breakfast, bouncing quarters off dat ass, and hiring an organizer for a long-term project.
When: Morning times! The morning after Kirk got lost.
Where: Laguna Beach
Rating: PG13, some language
Status: Complete
Jim sat up on the couch, stretching, and watched Janice putter around for a moment before blurting, "Want to go into space?"
Janice had been cleaning up (according to her schedule) after a few phonecalls, of which she'd tried to keep her voice down. The living room and her office didn't exactly have doors and were right across the hall from another. She eyed him warily - even more so than the usual - and shook her head like this was just the icing on a proverbial cake.
"Is that what it is, now? Back to the moon, back to space, back to hijacking a boat and sailing off to who knows where?" She almost sounded amused. Almost. "It's hard to tell what direction you're heading in, sir."
He could tell she'd been busy. He didn't think she needed to clean that badly. But then he felt people that cleaned up for other people were being dumb. He leaned back on the couch and rested his arms over the back, "I have to focus my energy on something. And I have people counting on me. There's a lot of information and supplies that would need organizing, and a nice chunk of X-Prize to share."
It was more like tidying up, which could be a daily routine of moping, sweeping, cleaning windows, so on and so forth. Janice liked things neat and clean but only really did anything (other than kitchen clean up) according to her regular schedule. If something ended up thrown in the corner of a room in the evening, it damn well stayed there until between 8:30am and 9:00am, when she picked it up before her official, self-imposed workday started.
He was cutting into that clean up time, though. Even so, she was standing there with both arms folded over herself, giving him the sort of stare that questioned if he was a part of reality or not.
"Why do you think you'll be able to get this prize before anyone else does? Give me three good reasons." Janice looked like she was not budging and was waiting to hear them.
Jim felt the urge to mess with her routine. It was an incredibly powerful urge. He had his own routine, at least on work days, but this wasn't a work day. Was it? Shit. Eh, he had a 'come as you need' work schedule. Not that it ever felt right. A military schedule would suit him fine. Not for the first time he felt suddenly directionless, "One, the more serious contenders are still testing their rovers and haven't even gone past preliminary stages on the spacecraft. Two, Scotty. Three, Scotty. And four because I believe we can."
"You can't use this Scotty person as two and three," Janice pointed out, "because he's only one person, and it sounds like you have everything riding and dependent on him. I'll give you one, that's a point in your favor. Two, would be this Scotty person. And three, then, would be because you believe you can. But what are you bringing to the table, right now? Is this merely something to keep you occupied like a hobby or is it something more serious, and if so, then why is it a priority? Going to outer space?"
Janice stood her ground, still not budging, still immobile, showing no signs of continuing with her cleaning even though the timer was running down.
"Come here." Jim got up, and walked towards the back of the house, opening the door and leaving it open as he stared up at the sky.
She wondered what he was up to, and followed him outdoors. She looked up like she was trying to see what he was looking at.
Jim took her arm, and pointed up, "Centauri." He pointed elsewhere, "Orion belt." And another one, "50 Eridani A. I look at them a lot. Star parties. Sometimes on my own in the wilderness." He pointed in another direction, "I don't even remember that star's name. It feels important."
He was pointing from memory, the morning sun too bright to show stars.
Janice didn't flinch or pull away. Instead, she looked confused, very much so. "How can you do that, when it's not night out? Did you memorize a star chart or something?"
"Yes," He replied, matter of factly. "Star charts, nautical maps, wilderness maps. I'm better with those than road maps. Go figure." He pointed out another one, "It feels like I belong out there,and our country is outsourcing our space program. So I have to do it myself."
She glanced at him and then watched where he was pointing, like he had such familiarity with it. Which was just strange to her, overall, because it gave her a sense of deja vu that she couldn't find a reason for. Even so, Janice tried to remain reasonable, and cleared her throat like she was trying to get the conversation back on track.
"You do realize," she tried to point out, and not get swept up in the idea of it too much, "the sheer cost and magnitude of trying to basically create your own space program, more or less, because that is what you're trying to do. Privatize it."
"Yes. The X-Prize money will fund the Mars trip." He nodded his head, "I'm not going to keep much of my share, most of it will go to the Mars trip. Scotty believes he can cut it down to twenty or thirty minutes. He has some new idea for a propulsion system."
Janice squinted at him, hard, and her mouth set in a firm line for at least a minute. Because that boggled her brain merely thinking about it.
"You can't go to Mars in twenty or thirty minutes," she stated, like that was a flat out fact. Either he was utterly insane and delusional, or he and his friend were the smartest people on the planet.
Guess which one was getting her vote, currently!
"Light speed is 3 minutes to Mars. What Scotty is working on isn't light speed. It doesn't even need to be. With the right acceleration and a powerful enough engine, its possible." He grinned at her, "Probable even. You ever meet someone and know instinctively that they can pull miracles out of their asses? That's Scotty."
"If that's so, then why hasn't the rest of the world heard about this guy who can pull a miracle out of his ass?" It seemed like a legitimate question. At least it did, to Janice.
"He got into a fight with NASA when they wouldn't agree with his theories." Jim shrugged, "It was one of those cases where they couldn't see the sky for the clouds."
"And you just happened to find him and...he's going to build something you all can ride in, to Mars, in twenty minutes. All by himself. Right?"
Janice didn't know if she should laugh or cry, because it was either too funny or he needed to be committed. If only he didn't seem so absolutely serious and convinced. And maybe even a little convincing, when one listened to him.
"Well we have a working cabin for the moon trip." Jim put an arm around her, and guided her back inside, "There's someone I need to talk to about some of the calculations. He'll probably think I'm insane too, but cest le vie. And I have a feeling he might be willing to listen. A little bit." Because he was in his dreaaaaaaaaaams. And a genius. They needed more genius. Just wait until he met Chekov too.
Janice was watching him and then suddenly, like her whole face lit up, she smiled at him. A real genuine smile, too. Nothing faked. Nothing forced. Even her eyes seemed a brighter shade of blue.
"You're insane, sir," she said, so sweetly, it was like she was talking to a newborn brood of the cutest puppies in the entire history of cutest puppies, ever. "You really truly believe you can do this, don't you? That's so much planning, I can't even begin to imagine everything it would entail."
"I won't know until I've tried," Jim replied, smiling back at it. "And if I don't try, I won't succeed or fail. And since I know I'll succeed, I have to try. It all makes sense."
He wished he could show her what he saw. Maybe he could. He dragged her towards one of her paintings, "What about you? Look at that." He pointed, "It's like it's right outside the window. And that one." He pointed at it. "Its the window a bit more to port. Its like you've been there."
Janice was led along, and didn't put up any sort of fight, but was staring at him like he was all sorts of strange. Port, what? Windows? The moment he paused, she shook her head at him and waved her other hand toward them dismissively.
"They're only paintings," she confessed, though even her own voice sounded distant in her ears for a moment, like something hopelessly lost and words that seemed wrong or out of place. "They're abstract art, that's all. Colors and patterns. They don't mean anything. Jim, what's this port thing about?"
She pulled away a little, like she was folding in on herself, and it wasn't really anything he did, but more her mind throwing up a wall of rejection against something that seemed like it should make sense, but simply didn't.
"Only paintings." He stepped behind her, grabbing her shoulders and forcing her to look at them, "Look at them. Really look at them."
"If you didn't give me the sort of vibe saying you're not a bad guy, I'd have reached into one of the emergency spots and be pepper-spraying you, right now," she warned him, but looked as instructed. She even tilted her head and squinted, before very softly, almost imperceptibly shaking her head. "I don't know what more they're supposed to mean. They're just things that come out when I paint. That's all. I even give them away."
Sure, she had a thumbdrive or two with all the images on it that she'd ever painted, but she didn't think it amounted to anything.
"You'd make a fortune." He scratched at his jaw, and pointed, "Do you spend a lot of time looking at hubble images?"
"...isn't that some space telescope thing? No. I don't. Like I said, I paint, this is what comes out." She was staring at his pointy finger like it was the craziest part of him all of a sudden. "Why are you talking about this stuff? I thought you were wanting to go into space? If you don't start talking some good, honest sense, sir, then I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
"Give me your iPad for a second." Jim stepped back and held out his hand.
The ipad was her precious. Her eyes widened like maybe he was taking things a step too far, here.
"Mister Kirk," she said, deadly serious now, "I'm giving you to the count of ten to explain yourself, before you end up injured."
"I have to show you something on the internet!"
"Whatever for?! I don't understand what this has to do with my paintings, you, some crazed mission to the moon or Mars or whatever it is you're up to...." And why was she going and getting the ipad out, and holding it out to him, at arm's length? Oh, because she also took that time to discreetly hide one of her peppersprays up her sleeve, tucked up right above her other hand, just in case she needed it.
He took the iPad and carefully but quickly paged through to NASA'S website. He looked concentratey, then made an exclamation and turned the iPad around to show her NEBULAE!
Janice shook her head and went on the defensive, "There's a similarity, but those are very big things, and mine are just...they're colorful smears, that's all. Few blobs of light here and there. I could show you the others but they're all going to look a little similar to one another, somehow...and...why are you insisting on showing me this? I thought you were talking about a job offer."
Jim pursed his lips. He couldn't share the dreams if she wasn't having them herself, and something just told him this was related, "Back up and look at those two together."
Janice was a heavy sleeper. It's the reason she kept at least ten duct taped peppersprays in various places in her bedroom, and took so many self-defense classes. She rarely remembered her dreams, barely ever. In fact, she didn't sleep like a baby, she slept like a rock. If the rock was a ten ton boulder.
However, even if she couldn't understand anything of what he was getting at, and even if this all felt strange to her, like something was off somewhere, Janice stepped back. She looked at one thing, then the other, and said softly, consolingly, "It's only a random coincidence that there's a very vague resemblance. Look."
She took the ipad, and held it up to a painting, where the colors were similar but hers was something like what one would observe through a microscope and the image on the ipad was that of telescope.
"These aren't the same. See?" she said, glancing back at him, like it was proof. "What's gotten into you?"
"It's close. There's a color shift too. See? Yours is bluer. Thats blueshift, it means its getting closer. The picture is red shifted, its going farther away." He pointed up in the general direction of that nebula, "Its racing away from earth so its shifted to the red part of the spectrum a little. The difference is subtle, but it's there. In yours it's more blue and less red."
He squinted, and then zoomed in and held it up for her to compare. "So in your paintings it's like we're approaching it."
She watched him and listened, and a small crease formed between her eyebrows. She took the ipad and stared at it, closely, looking more and more perplexed with each passing second.
"How would you even know that? And why are you talking like it's something you've...or I've...both of us...have experienced? Somehow."
Figures. He was probably crazy. If not for the fact that whatever he was saying seemed to make some sort of strange sense to her. She almost always wasn't the easily convincible type. In fact, she was a brick wall of resistance the rest of the time. So this surprised her, quite a bit.
"I don't really know," He admitted, "I dream things. Like I'm living another life. " Why was THAT phrase familiar to him? "I like astronomy. I know astronomers. I told you about the star charts."
"That's only dreaming," Janice said, not wanting to look at the photos on the ipad anymore. In fact, she abruptly turned it off and tucked it with the greatest of ease under one of her lower arms, hugged with the screen against her chest. "It doesn't make it real."
"That's what I thought," He replied. "Until I started sharing them with people." He walked back into her living room, starting to pick up the blankets.
For some odd reason, it seemed natural to follow along while he did that, though she wasn't sure why. She stopped him too, setting the ipad aside, and starting to fold the blankets up, like it was something she simply was used to doing, almost as though she was on autopilot.
"And other people have had these dreams, like you have?" she wondered, out loud. She slipped the pepperspray into the folds of a blanket, discreetly. "That sounds a little fantastical."
"Yep!" He grinned at her, "You know, I feel a lot better now."
"That's good. But I'm more confused. I don't know how anyone else can have the same sort of dreams unless...they were there, or something."
Big huge something, Janice was telling herself. Something freaky.
"Exactly!" He poked around in her kitchen, looking for something to munch or suck on, "There's a bunch of us. Most of us had never met before recently."
Chew on that, Rand.
"That also doesn't make sense," she pointed out, swiftly putting the blankets and pillows back where they belonged, then strode into the kitchen and nudged him aside, starting to take out the makings of a late breakfast. She didn't imagine he liked spinach omelettes too much, so started by holding up eggs and nodding like 'yes?' and if he shook his head 'no!' then she was going to just shove it back into the fridge and grab another item. Eggs, toast, probably something meat related but nothing too fatty, since he looked like he was in shape. "You all think you're from outer space. Are you in a cult?"
Janice had worked for a couple of cults. Never joined them, even during high pressure campaigns to keep her around, and they were the harmless 'we're the spawn of space lizards' and 'light worker' sort of cults. Though 'harmless' was questionable, since...hello, space lizards and lightworkers who were trying to heal the planet before it had a reverse pole shift and they all died, horrifically. Mmhm.
"Not a cult." Jim nodded his head at the eggs, "And I don't think I'm from outer space. Mostly that I belong out there." He pointed up, "Like an astronaut." Secret he'd never told anyone -he'd once been rejected for the space program.
"You think you should be an astronaut," she echoed, glancing at him while holding up some canadian bacon and wagging it in a 'yes/no?' sort of gesture. "Why didn't you just become an astronaut, then? And it's this or turkey sausage. Take your pick. I can make toast, but it's whole grain bread only."
"Bacon." He pointed, "And too many issues. They don't agree with me, and I don't agree with them. It's why I'm not in the Navy, either. Toast is fine."
"Okay, then scoot, sir. Not saying you might not know your way around a kitchen, but this is my domain and you're invading." She was very frank about the whole thing. She immediately started cooking the eggs and canadian bacon while brewing coffee and popping bread into the toaster. Even her kitchen was in order. Everything was organized so everything was within reach. "So you were in the Navy, too. You know, what you and your friends think? A lot of people would think it was crazy. But I've worked from people who believed they were the leftover remnants of space lizards, so I've heard quite a lot of theories anyway. You should be careful who you tell, though. You might get sent off to a funny farm."
"Yes ma'am." He saluted her and scooted out of the way, "You should try that naked. For fun."
He snorted. Then actually looked like he was considering that, in light of Gaila being green, "Most of us probably aren't space lizards...."
"Been there, done that," she said matter-of-factly at the naked cooking, "and sometimes I don't wear any pants when I paint." So there. Chew on THAT, Captain Jackass. She continued until there was a plate full of food and a cup of espresso and some orange juice sat on the table, waiting for him to eat it. "So most of you aren't space lizards. That would insult the people who think they are. Just who or what do you have with you, in your merry band of strange people who are space-obsessed and have similar dreams? Anyone think they were a shapeshifting cat woman, yet?"
She almost started to giggle laugh at the mere thought of that, but pressed her lips together to stop herself, and remain as serious face as possible.
His eyes darted below her waist and he suddenly regretted the decision to friendzone her, "Well, there's a respectable professor and a law enforcement officer. Scotty is one. There's a woman who's brilliant with programming." He decided not to mention the green. He wasn't sure Janice would see it, it was hit or miss.
That'd be fine if she hadn't client zoned already. Mmhm. She nodded along, like she was listening, while making coffee. And she was listening, because it was sort of intriguing.
Jim's phone rang. He snerked, and glanced at it, "One second." He answered the phones, "Hello? Yeah. Yeah yeah. Okay thanks, just drop it off at Mad Monty's, he won't mind."
He hung up, "Found parts of an old missile for encasing the engine system. Need reinforced metal for that."
The word 'mad' didn't exactly make anything seem all the more sane here, nope, or so Janice decided. And she'd only really seen one girl who looked vaguely maybe offshade green undertone to her skin, but she wasn't asked so she couldn't say, outright. Janice just shot him a look over her shoulder, before she sat down with her coffee. Or Latte, rather. Whatever, she had to steam milk and everything, but it was a non fat skinny sugar free one, at least.
"Are you keeping this thing out in space? You'd need thermal shielding too, the tiles," she pointed out, before taking a sip, and then she sounded as though she was super ultra amused. "Or are you going to beam yourself up and down, Captain Picard?"
Kirk laughed, "It'll have to be in stages, yeah. One to take off from earth. Then we separate with the main one and the martian lander."
"Right, of course. And you want to drag me into organizing this mess, with you and your friends. Who are all very likely insane." Janice thought for a moment, not really believing it but, what the hell. "I think I can organize things from my home office, with today's networking, and have it not interfere with my regular schedule. What will my pay be?"
Jim tilted his head, thinking about it, "I don't want to underpay you, but if you're working from home I can't prove the hours you're putting in."
"Oh, I'm sorry. I meant if you survive and come back, and win the prize. I'll be working my regular job, but handling your project on the side. I think that's feasible. Isn't it, Mister Kirk?"
In other words, it was the classic what's my cut? portion of the conversation.
Kirk grinned, "One million each, the rest goes into the Mars fund. That's the deal I have with Scotty and Gaila, and the deal I'll be making with anyone else who actually goes into space. If you don't want to get into space..." He shrugged, "We can work out something for the effort involved and put it to paper."
"Oh, you intend to take everyone into space? Even the organizer?" Janice's eyebrows eeked up a smidge. "How big is this ship you're making? Are we going to have to sit on each other's laps?"
She was kind of being a smart ass. Maybe. Possibly. It was hard to tell.
"Oh, for Mars there's only room for three or four," He replied. Maybe five if they could squeeze it, "Mars ship will be bigger. I have to ask Scotty about that."
"That's very tight quarters, sir."
"We're real friendly." He waggles his eyebrows unseriously.
"I can imagine," Janice said, suggestively, but her facial expression was not serious, either.
"Oh, Janice, I want to feel your tight, strict arms around me."
"What makes you think that they're strict? Unless you like it that way." Wut?
"You're organized," He explained.
"That doesn't mean strict, though. There's a difference."
"You strike me as sexy librarian babe."
"Apparently you don't know the meaning of multifaceted."
"You could go wild. It would be hot."
"I could," she stated, with a sweet smile as a epic pause, "and maybe I have."
That said, Janice went right back to sipping her lil’ cup of coffee.
Jim stared at her, "Want to be my rebound?" He grinned.
Janice's nose wrinkled up just at the end of it, and there might have been the slightest hint of a snerk that echoed in the cup.
"When did you want me to start," she asked between sips, "and should I keep calling you 'sir' because your ego seems to puff up when I do?"
‘Starting’ was not at the rebound, she meant the job.
OKay, THAT would be funny and hot. He laughed, "I'll forward you the information tomorrow."
"All right." That gave her enough time to shift some things around. "I think, if it's the same Gaila, I've met her already. I like her. She seemed very friendly."
"Yeah, been a bit green around the gills lately though." Kirk drank some milk. Right from the carton.
"She asked about that. She looked like maybe she was feeling a little ill and off, but it's probably just stress," Janice said, not thinking about it. She even waved one hand like she was swatting away a silly notion, like it was a gnat. "Having a bar dumped on someone's a big deal, if they have no prior experience."
Heh. "Take a good look next time you see her." He left it at that, "This is good milk!"
"Did I give you milk? I thought I gave you the organic pulp-free orange juice. Sorry, must not have noticed what I was pouring. Or, wait, did you get that out of my fridge?" Ew, carton drinker! Well, at least the milk was hormone and steroid free, so enjoy that too, then!
He shrugged, "It's pretty good and explains your figure."
"Well I do work out a lot. Have to, or I'd be spending a lot of my time behind a desk or driving to and from places," she explained. "You don't appear to be much of a slouch, either. Even if you look far too comfy on other people's couches, you bum."
Jim laughed, "I'm a good couch bum." He patted her abs, "You do scrunchies."
"Do that again you'll find out that I know how to punch a man in the throat, too." She wasn't smiling, but there was a gleam in her eyes like it'd be a challenge she might enjoy. She reached over and behind him and patted him right on the butt, her hand bouncing off like she was patting a kid’s plastic playground bouncy ball that had a lot of spring to it. "And I could bounce a quarter off this. Any questions, sir?"
Janice got up and walked over to the sink, to rinse her cup out. Yep, business as usual, even if she was going 'WTF FAMILIARITY TOO MUCH MAYBE!?'
"Want to try?"
"To bounce a quarter off it? Let me get my purse."
Jim waggled his butt!
"Hold on, I need to put this in the dishwasher first." Finished! She ran out the kitchen doorway and down the hall, grabbed her purse, and found a quarter, then ran back. "This is profoundly unprofessional, I'll have you know. But if you're taking me to Mars, somehow, for a paycheck? Then I guess I have to trust you not to tell. Ok. Stand across the room?"
Kirk walked across the room and assumed hands against the wall position.
"Huh. You look like you've done that before. A real natural," joked Janice, wryly, and then she wound it up like a baseball pitcher and hauled off, throwing the quarter directly at...well that was one of his kidneys. Whoops. She felt the need to say "five points" as she moved in and bent down to pick it up.
"Oof, you're a terrible shot! You'd make a great Stormtrooper!"
"Take that back." Nevermind, Janice stalked back to her spot by the doorway and WHAM...that quarter did bounce. About halfway back across the room, toward her. She even looked a little impressed, complete with a fist pump of triumph, since he had his back turned and couldn't see it.
Jim laughed, "Bet you couldn't get it to bounce all the way back to you." He was serious.
"I bet you that I could. Clench those buns and see." Janice swiped the coin up off the floor, turned her upper body to one side, stretched her arm way out, and then swung it around forcefully like her arm was going to get a bad case of whiplash. The coin probably hit her on the rebound, too.
Kirk clenched his bums so hard that coin smacked Rand right in the forehead!
It so did. She slapped one hand over her forehead because that stung like the dickens.
"Ok," she said, with one eye tightly closed and the other wide-open and blinky, "I think I won, but as long as you've got a welt or two, it was worth it."
He rubbed at his butt, grinning at her, "That was beyond worth it."
"You might have a third eye for a bit." He grinned wider.
"All the better to keep an eye on you, sir, so you stay out of trouble."
"Oh be still my heart! The bacon is burning."
"I won't be pulling your butt out of the fire too much. Don't get used to it."
"No, seriously." He pointed at the stove, "It’s burning." Or something was burning!Because I fail at reading comprehension
"I didn't leave anything on." Janice went to check the stove, and even sniffed at the burners. "Nope, it's off. I don't smell anything. Maybe it's your red hot ego that's on fire."
He grinned at her, "Or my ass."
"Could be. If you need to take a shower, feel free. Might curb that burn."
"No peeking." And he sauntered, ladylike, towards the shower. Complete with hip swaying.
Janice pressed her lips together, and then - when that wasn't enough - actually slapped a hand over her mouth.
Hip sway sway!
Snicker. Muffled snickering. That's all he gets. She cleaned up the kitchen and was going right straight to work while the space scoundrel was in the shower.
Jim laughed from the shower, and then lathered himself up in girl soap and girl shampoo. Okay, he had to swing by McCoy's smelling like this.....