Snippet 4d

"You're a blonde, it wouldn't work." Sam called after him, an amused smile on his face as he began to wash the container. "A fake black one would be stylish though."

"I'm totally getting one."

The rest of the day was a lighthearted affair. Jake and Chris finished unpacking the rest of their things, set up what furniture they could, until the place began to look like a place that could really be called home. Sure, it still lacked a few technical things like a TV and a couch, and maybe a few decoration details, but other than that, it was cozy and perfect.

After it was done, the two brothers settled back for the evening to watch a movie on Jake's portable DVD player with a bowl of popcorn and a couple of beers. It was the perfect start to the beginning of their stay in the new country.

"I like our apartment," Chris mumbled to Jake as the movie began to draw to a close, letting out a yawn and leaning against his brother's shoulder sleepily. "Cin' we take pictures and send 'em into Vogue Furnishings...?"

Sam smiled, his eyes on the tv as he listened to his little brother. "I think they'd like that."

"Hm," Chris agreed sleepily, his eyes staying closed now as the movie continued to trail on. "...m' gonna..." he mumbled, but the words were lost as the typical late-night effect of his medication began to take hold, and he drifted off to sleep without finishing his sentence.

Sam glanced down briefly when he heard the thought trail off, a brief but almost sad smile coming to his face as he reached over and took what was left of his brother's snack and put it on the floor. "Alright Jimmy, up you go." he said quietly, standing and lifting his brother in his arms before taking him gently over to his new room. It was a bit cool, and he pulled the covers back before setting him down and gently resting his head on the pillow. "Sleep well, Jimmy." he whispered as he pulled the covers over him again and laid a brief kiss on his forehead. Jim stirred just barely as Sam stood, causing his brother to smile with a brief shake of his head before turning and leaving the room.

*

*

The next day, Sam and Jim managed to get catch the mainstream tour bus around the city, catching most of the local sights and areas to know about by the time mid-afternoon came around. There was almost too much to take in, Paris's vast landscape spinning through their heads long after their tour drew to a close. And it ended promptly at 3:30, just in time.

"I wonder what we'd think of that tour if we took it backwards," Jim said contemplatively as he strolled casually with Sam toward the street, helping Sam wave down a taxi to the corner of the road as they approached it. "I mean, it really seemed like they deliberately built up to the good stuff, didn't they? And, yeah - have I mentioned I can't wait 'til your bike gets here?"

Sam chuckled, stepping toward the taxi and opening the door. "Yeah that'll be nice. I'm surprised at the traffic here."

"Not me," Jim said, scooting into the taxi and making room for Sam. "How far away's the clinic?"

"About 20 minutes." Sam said, leaning forward to the driver. "Can you take us to the clinic on 6th and Lou?"

"Oui," the driver responded, already moving the taxi out into the street again to get them on their way.

"He said 'oui,'" Jim whispered, grinning at Sam as he sat back. "French people are awesome!"

"Merci," the driver said offhandedly.

Jim's eyes widened slightly. "He heard me..."

"The French have very good hearing," Sam murmured into his ear, smiling as he withdrew.

Jim looked over at him, his face looking caught between intrigue and disbelief, as though he didn't know whether Sam was teasing or not. Finally, though, he settled for looking out the window as they drove through the city, taking note of some of the shops and restaurants that were nearby. "I'll get the hang of this city yet..."

Fifteen minutes later, the taxi pulled up alongside the clinic on 6th and Lou, letting Sam and Jim out onto the curb. They paid the driver, and then walked inside, both taking a careful inventory of the place as they stepped through the doors.

The clinic was nice - and it looked, surprisingly, much like the clinics they'd visited in America. Pastel colors, nurses wearing similar garb, and a similar atmosphere in general. Sam and Jim made their way to the waiting room, noting that the front desk was near the wall, just like it had been in America.

It really was uncannily similar.

Jim let out a small sigh as he went to sit down in one of the rows of chairs in the waiting room, while Sam went up to the desk to get them signed in. He cast a cursory glance around the room, noting some of the other patients and some of the decorations. He was about to look back toward the desk, when, suddenly, something caught his gaze and made him look back over at the chairs.

Not far from where he was sitting, two young men, both with dark hair, were seated on one of the bench-chairs by the wall. One of them was sitting up straight, dark eyes aimed straight ahead and unseeing, while the other one - who looked pale and very tired, was resting against him, eyes closed, evidently fast asleep.

For a moment, Jim couldn't help but automatically assume that he was looking at two people who were much like him and Sam. The two looked enough alike to be brothers...very good-looking brothers, actually. They were almost unusually appealing to the eye, like they had been born to become models in a city like Paris. But judging from the fact that they were here, and the aura that both of them gave off...that could not be farther from the truth.

Overcome with fascination, Jim didn't realize he was staring at them until Sam came back and sat down beside him, giving Sam the chance to notice that he had his gaze locked on the two strangers.

Sam looked vaguely surprised as he watched them. "Wow. Models, you think?"

"No idea," Jim said, still looking at them. "...they don't really looks French, though."

The sleeping one of the twosome suddenly gave a quiet cough, and the one who was sitting up glanced down at him, taking a moment to pull the black coat that was resting over the sleeping young man a bit higher on his shoulders. When he finished that, however, his eyes came up - and his dark gaze came up to meet Sam's and Jim's - obviously noticing that he was being watched.

Sam blinked and looked away, glancing at Jim briefly before letting out a long breath. "Wow."

"Brown eyes," Jim murmured cheekily, casting a discrete grin over at his brother. "Meets your quota."

Sam gave him a look. "You're impossible. Quota is more than brown eyes."

"Yeah, but you like brown eyes," Jim teased, quirking an eyebrow at him.

The sleeping dark-haired man gave another cough, then, drawing their attention back to that side of the room. The one sitting up glanced down at him, gently helping him sit up as the coughs evidently managed to rouse him from sleep.

Jim blinked, as though suddenly getting an idea. He reached down to pick up the Aquafina water bottle he'd brought, before moving determinedly forward toward the two by the wall.

"Here," he said, offering the water bottle with a small smile, even as the dark stare of the man who was sitting up moved toward him. "S' just water. Helps me when my throat gets dry like that."

He realized too late that he'd just made an assumption about why the young man was coughing. It was stupid, really, to think automatically that he shared the same affliction he did. The man who was sitting up, however, did not refute the claim when Jim said it. Instead, with a nod of thanks, he accepted the water bottle, twisted open the cap, and turned toward the young man beside him.

"Zach," he spoke softly in a low and smooth voice, gently shifting the young man until his eyes opened again. "Here. Have some water."

Zach stared at the bottle for a moment, his mind returning to its previous state as he blinked again and reached for it - taking a small sip before handing it back to his brother. "Thank you."

The other man took the bottle back, but Jim couldn't resist speaking up before he had a chance to say anything. "You guys aren't here for a stasis check-up, are you?" he asked, glancing between them. "I'm just - asking. Sorry if it's not my business or whatever."

The first man eyed him, as though watching his expression. "How did you know?"

"'Cause I'm here for the same thing," Jim said, glancing at Zach afterward. "...stasis appointment for a hiliometric diagnosis. Right?"

Zach nodded slowly, glancing at his brother briefly before looking back at Jim. "How far along are you?"

"Phase 3," Jim said, watching Zach and giving him a small smile. He wondered, briefly, if he looked as pale as Zach did at the moment. "You?"

"Same." Zach said, giving him a brief smile. "Later end of it, though."

"I don't know where I'm at," Jim admitted, giving him a small shrug and a smile. "I'm Jim, by the way," he said, holding out a hand. "Jim Kirk."

"Zach Kessler," The dark haired man replied, smiling as he shook his hand. "Nice to meet you, Jim."

"What party is this over here?" Sam asked, smiling at the small group as he stepped forward. "Making new friends already, Jim?"
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