Steady as she goes.

Jim didn't do well with nothing to do. Reading books, watching holos, bugging her crew, hustling them at pool, beating them up (and being beat up in turn) in the name of improving their fighting skills - they all served as distractions, but in the end she went to bed, slept fitfully, and faced another day to fill with inanities when she woke up.

And avoiding Helen, fighting with herself about whether or not to talk to her. At any given time, she could tell you what was on the doctor's schedule for the day, both for being conveniently out of the way and in it. She had a few extremely awkward conversations with Helen, and she hated it. More than anything else, this was what she truly abhorred about her time on Tantalus: that he had so easily reached into her head and twisted her emotions around, made her believe she was in love when she was really just reacting to false memories he'd instructed her mind to create.

She wasn't quite sure how, but somehow sleeplessness and restlessness had brought her to Spock's door. After a moment of hesitation, she pressed the door chime. With any luck, she wouldn't be waking him up.

There's only so much you can do when you're confined to quarters, really. Jim spent most of her time reading and using her PINpoint to read the goings on at the Nexus. Lieutenant Tanver advised her that it wasn't exactly good for the crew's morale to know the captain was spying on the rec room, even if she made a private vow not to use anything she overheard against them.

Except for Parkinson, because old bitch? What the hell were they teaching in Starfleet these days? The only satisfaction she got was from sending through a note to Starfleet that perhaps Parkinson would be more useful not on her ship. He was a sub-par navigator, anyway.

At the moment, she'd taken to bouncing a ball against her wall and catching it. It's not loud enough to be heard on the other side, but the repetitive motion was somehow soothing and distracting from her slight case of cabin fever, and it made her think of that really old 2D, The Great Escape. Even Starfleet captains were allowed their geek classical Earth appreciation moments.

Knocking Dr. Adam's thugs out takes practically no thought at all; it's instinct, ingrained far deeper than the Neural Neutralizer can reach. It's not part of any grand plan to get away, it's pure desperation: they're trying to hurt her again, so she jams her elbows into their ribs and kicks and shoves and they go down. And she runs.

It isn't until after she gets out that she realizes she should've grabbed both their weapons. Too late for that - she's already half-running, half-staggering through the complex, heading in the direction she thinks will lead her to Helen.

Too bad she's completely turned around and lost.