It’s not that Jim was bored, it was just that he’d rather watch paint dry.

It’s been a quiet past few months. The Enterprise gets a chore to do on their mission, it’s always some big mess, and then once it’s fixed, shore-leave time. Being someone who thrives on energy, and not just the same old killer aliens every week, it was starting to get a little stale.

Beside, making light of it distracted from the real problem: Jim was getting depressed. It’s come and gone in bouts for most of his life, but it’s especially bad now. Practically yesterday, he was on Earth all the time, no responsibility, free to do what he wanted. Now he sits in the same chair every day, practically has the same conversations about their current route, or crew moral every time he opens his mouth. For something that was supposed to be as fulfilling as Starfleet, something still didn’t feel right for Jim.

For now, he settled for sitting in the Captain’s chair, pretending to look busy as the ship rockets off toward its next destination. They all look the same by now, anyway.