[ Jim smiles at the almost-joke, because he walked right into it. And: heh, success. He raises his hands in a submissive gesture before he shuffles the flat pack out from beneath his clothes - everything compressed and hidden, sensibly. He starts with propping the sticky drinks menu up on the end of the table to slightly obscure their business, before pushing his sleeves up and disinfecting his hands, because he wasn't raised by plague-bearing wolves. Then the latex (?) gloves go on, and he sets about an initial look at what the heck she's done to her arm. ]

Levitation would just be moving it, right? A field like that, you're having to shift and control the energy of everything interacting with the atoms you're suspending.

[ That had been the inspiration behind his question - what are the atoms being suspended in? From? Movement, energy, time? He's a good listener, and seems to comprehend; meanwhile he's going to clean her arm up, using slim, laser-sealed packages of chemical compounds only identifiable by the shorthand he's written on them. Jim's no scientist, professionally, but every command track trainee had to go the same survival courses. Every captain in Starfleet should be able to make anti-bacterial sludge and/or a questionably effective rocket launcher out of local minerals and paperclips. ]

Can you make a fist? Thanks. Ok, relax. [ Tape time. There is no way in hell he's doing anything as barbaric as stitching her. ] What do you do about light in a vacuum?