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James T. Kirk absolutely loves marketplaces.

It's not necessarily because he's looking for anything, per se, although he does often keep an eye out for interesting books to add to his collection, or maybe a bottle of some kind of exotic alcohol, or some kind of pointless alien gizmo with which to annoy Spock with its purposeless existence. No, he just loves the sheer diversity each bazaar brings to the table.

No two markets have ever been alike, in his experience. Sure, it's not quite as exciting and mysterious as exploring deep space, but it's something of a microcosm of the same, all sorts of goods and cultures thrown into close quarters, and one never knows what one might find just down the street.

His shipboard gold uniform may stand out a bit in the crowd as he meanders along, a faint smile on his face as he leans in to examine someone's wares on display, just enjoying being out and about in the fresh air.

[OOC: Retconning Jim eating bacon in this thread. Hadn't fully considered some of the elements in his backstory at the time.]

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"We could give it a shot," Jim agrees. "I could also try to bring a datapadd the next time I visit, maybe download her floorplan for you." Never let it be said that he'd turn down a chance to show off his gorgeous silver lady.

"Torchwood?" Jim frowns a little, turning the word over in his mind. "Doesn't ring any bells..."

But of course, he has to grin a little at the mention of his charm. "What can I say, charisma serves a captain well."

"Heck, if you could do that, I could make a miniature clay model of your ship for you."

Hunter laughs, softly. Thanks to Jack's charisma in his life, he is a little more bolder these days than how he used to be. "I am glad I am not one of those people who would have to strike a trade deal with you. That smile would be the best bargaining chip."

Jim laughs a little, surprised but interested. "I've never heard of starship pottery before. That'd certainly be something to see."

And of course he grins all the more at the mention of one of his best assets. "We haven't gotten too many diplomatic missions just yet; I don't know if it's my age or what, but we'll get there eventually. Who could resist this?"

Hunter has to laugh softly again. Sometimes it is just nice to be a little flirty. And not worry about where things may or may not go.

"I am sure you will explore the mighty unknown. Find out for yourself who could resist that smile."

Flirting is practically a dialect, from Jim's perspective, yet another language to speak. It helps grease the wheels of progress, and there's no obligations attached, though he hasn't learned yet that Earth humans from the early twenty-first century might not take such things quite so lightly.

"That's the goal," he agrees easily. "Mostly it's been scientific surveys and easy supply runs. We're not a cargo ship, but the Enterprise can hold a hell of a lot more than conventional freighters, so we've been tapped a time or two."

He will not get any judgement from Hunter. Once again, Jack's influence on his life has opened Hunter's thought process to many different perspectives.

He leans slightly, tilting his head. "Sounds like it makes for a very interesting job."

"Oh, it is." Jim leans forward slightly. "But enough about me... let's talk about you."

"What would you like to know? Besides the fact that I am a talented and handsome artist from New York City?" Hunter smirks slightly.

"You are all of those things," Jim agrees. "Is this your job, or your hobby? If I remember right, people in your century were still dependent on the economy just for basic living expenses."

"I sell commissioned work. Enough to provide a living for myself." Hunter shrugs. "But I also do pieces for my friends, and those I care about, without the worry about charging anything."

"Gracious of you. That's the mark of a true artist, I'm pretty sure." And it slightly elevates Jim's opinion of Hunter, not that he really needed it. "Have you always been creative like this?" he asks, gesturing vaguely to the various artwork on display around them.

"I used to write a lot when I was younger. But it wasn't until my appearance changed, and I had time to reflect on who I wanted to be as a person, that I really started to explore more of my creative spirit."

"Recently, I even completed a marble statue."

"Classical. Nice," Jim says appreciatively. "Greek-style, or something else?"

"Themed off a Greek myth. It was a Chimera."

He can't help a small chuckle. "So no naked people. Oh well."

"If your work here's any clue, I'm sure it turned out pretty cool."

"Not in marble. Yet." Said without a blush. "I have done a few commissioned nudes. And I even completed a series of my own naked body, after receiving a few compliments on how the network of tattoos that cover me are like artwork."

"The marble statue is sitting in an art gallery right now. So it is pretty cool."

"Congratulations." Even in the twenty-third century, art galleries don't necessarily take in any old piece of art.

"You ever hope you'll get famous, because of your art?" Fame is a complicated subject with Jim, but he understands he's in a fairly unique circumstance. And most people tend to want recognition, so it's a reasonable question to ask, he feels.

"I am of the feeling, that if it happens, then great... if it doesn't, I still count myself fortunate to have the friends in my life that consider me someone important."

"The answer of someone who's definitely in it for the art," Jim says, a little amused. But he can absolutely respect that. Everyone should spend their life doing what makes them truly happy, and if Hunter's passion is his art, then all the more power to him.

"And you? Are you aiming to be famous?"

The smile freezes on Jim's face, brittle and maybe slightly bitter. "I already am." But he doesn't sound happy about it. "But I want to be known for what I am and what I've done."

Hunter tenses slightly. He reaches out again, touching Jim's arm lightly. "Sorry. I didn't know."

"You shouldn't have that ill fame here."

"I know you didn't." Jim touches Hunter's arm back, accepting the apology that he doesn't think he was even owed. "I'm... not used to people not knowing whose son I am anymore. Didn't even occur to me that... well, anyway." He mentally shakes himself a little.

Well, it's not like the story is a secret, and he sort of owes Hunter an explanation. "It's a long story. Short version... my dad took command of a ship called the Kelvin while it was under attack by an unknown alien vessel. He bought time for eight hundred people to evacuate, including my mom, and rammed the Kelvin into the other ship. He died a hero, and I was born during the middle of the whole clusterfuck, so you can probably imagine what kind of attention my family got while I was growing up." What kind of attention he still gets.

Hunter places his other hand on top of Jim's. He listens to the story, nodding slightly in understanding.

"That must have been difficult."

"I was known by my father's name in my world, for different reasons. He is a media mogul. And runs several television and online companies."

"He practically threw me out of his home when my appearance changed. He made this grand gesture of buying a second property, where I could live. But slowly, stopped coming by to see me. To speak to me. To acknowledge me."

"That's fucked up." Crudely put, he knows, but it's from the heart. Spoken the way that only someone who's been there would say it. But talking about his dad is relatively easy... talking about his mom is a whole different story.