FIC: Divergence 28b/28 + epilogue
Series Masterpost
Planet-side: Vulcan, Shikahr City, Vulcan Academy Hospital, year 2246
Doctor Leonard McCoy was having a rotten day. Or night. After a standard shift on the ship, the last thing he felt like doing was trooping all the way to Shikahr to do his regular check up on the crew still being treated at the Vulcan Academy Hospital. It wasn't that he didn't like his work - he liked it fine - but the schedule that Spock and Scotty had cooked up between the two of them was edging on madness! Shore leave only ended two months ago and already he felt like a holiday.
He was no engineer but even he could tell that they were trying to slap the ship back together in a half the time that a regular refit would take with half the necessary crew needed. Now, he wanted out of here as much as anyone else, but the heavy workload meant long hours, people trying to take on more than they ought to, and random crew pitching in to help out when really, they were just not qualified.
Accidents were starting to happen, and not good ones.
He'd already aired his grievances, throwing down an ultimatum that Scotty and Spock were going to need to work on reducing hours, because the amount of injuries walking through his sickbay doors was unacceptable. There was simply no reason to work the crew like it was wartime when the fight was over. Thankfully, Jim agreed and had backed him up, because considering their situation, dragging back their flight date another few weeks hardly mattered.
No one said it aloud but you didn't have to be telepathic to know what everyone was thinking : despite all the effort to repair the ship, there were no guarantees that they would ever return to their timeline. Spock was on it with Chekov though, looking through their options with a team of scientists and two specialists on loan to them from the DTI.
Sighing heavily at the thought of the months ahead of them, McCoy slowed his pace as he rounded the corridor to the rooms housing the Enterprise crew. Most of the beds were empty, but a few familiar faces looked up and waved as he walked past. The doctor noted Sulu and Uhura holding court at a table with Hendorff's group of redshirts as he passed the spacious indoor garden courtyard set aside as in-patient leisure space. He didn't stop though, continuing on down the corridor and going upstairs to visit his youngest patient.
"Jimmy?"
The sole occupant of the room looked over from her careful examination of a potted plant on the window sill, the shimmering material of her robes gleaming in the filtered sunlight.
Caught off guard, McCoy came to an abrupt stop.
"Doctor McCoy," Amanda Grayson greeted, a warm smile upon her face. "I was told to expect you."
"Ma'am," he nodded, falling back on the good old fashioned manner instilled in him by Aunt Gladys.
They might have never met face-to-face but he'd been teleconferenced in when the Vulcan healers had discussed Spock's condition, and so they were hardly strangers. She was a regular in this room, judging by his perusal of the visitor logs - the only other visitors who attended regularly were Ambassador Sarek and Winona Kirk, and that was every other day. Amanda Grayson visited every day, sometimes more than once. She was one dedicated mother, as far as he was concerned, and a classy lady. It was the first time he'd bumped into her though, since her visits were daily appointments while his schedule was all over the darn place; seeing her in the flesh was a little strange really.
The woman who was meant to be Spock's mother was of average height and slender, her dark eyes instantly drawing comparisons with the First Officer that he so enjoyed ribbing. Without the fancy robes and complex hairdo, McCoy could imagine her taking coffee and cake at some random San Francisco street corner café.
Sensing his distraction, she quickly stepped away from the mess that was Jimmy's bed. "Oh please don't let me stop you from what you need to do; I promised to take the boys to lunch, you see."
At his raised eyebrows - because the boys were not cleared to leave the grounds of the hospital if he had anything to say about it - her smile widened as she added in a hurry, "We're doing a picnic in the hospital gardens. I've brought ham and pickle sandwiches for Jim, and Spock's favorite salad; root vegetables and dried gespar with skonvu dressing."
"That sounds wonderful," McCoy deadpanned, a lie if he ever heard one.
Her smile turned knowing and he cleared his throat, chagrined to be caught disparaging a woman's cooking. That was another thing one learned living with any McCoy - food prepared by a lady was to be eaten and appreciated, without any of your darn cheek thank you very much.
"I'm sure he'll love it."
Thankfully she was bemused rather than offended.
"The boys will be back soon. I arrived just as they were being taken away for some test," she said, answering his unspoken question. "I believe it was ordered by the nutritionist."
"I see, right, well, then please excuse me," McCoy gestured vaguely to the built-in monitors above Jimmy's bed and resisted the urge to straighten his plain black undershirt, having no doubt that his appearance was less than regulation.
"Of course."
Moving to the open displays, the doctor kept his eyes on his PADD as Jimmy's medical details were updated and changes were imputed in accordance. He couldn't quite manage not to notice the swish of Amanda Grayson's skirt hem against the cold granite of the hospital ward floors though, or the little noises she made as she returned to examining the various 'Get Well' foliage on Jimmy's windowsill. He wondered if he was supposed to speak, and was just about to make an attempt at chit chat when a shout at the door startled him into whipping around.
"Hey Doc!"
Leonard McCoy allowed a crooked grin before steeling his face to unimpressed, "What did I say about energy conservation?"
Jimmy's answering grin was irrepressibly gleeful. "What? I can't get excited to see you?"
McCoy snorted because if there was another thing universal to Jim Kirks, they were certainly charming little shits.
The young Vulcan glanced down at his hospital roommate and lifted one unimpressed eyebrow.
"Hey Spock."
The teen nodded a greeting at the doctor but lost interest instantly to drift over to his mother. McCoy didn't blame him. Amanda Grayson's smile practically beamed around the room as she cupped the young Vulcan's face in a soft intimate greeting. No one seemed to notice the silent sentinel of a Vulcan loitering around the doorway.
The Enterprise's Chief of Medical raised a mental eyebrow wondering what that was all about because he'd never seen the boys without their expressionless Vulcan guard, even when he'd dropped by in the dead of night. Sulu thought it was security organized by the ambassador so no one could make off with his son again while Chekov was convinced that Spock was somehow ancient Vulcan nobility. McCoy was pretty certain that M'Benga knew what it was for, but whatever the reason, he wasn't saying.
By the windows, mother and son's soft Vulcan greetings turned into a show-and-tell as the woman began opening the bags she had with her. Realizing that he was probably intruding on a picnic he wasn't invited to, McCoy asked Jimmy a couple of questions before warning him as usual to take it easy, the jokes and easy banter passing between them dispelling the last of the weariness from his long shift. As usual, the kid rolled his eyes, looking so much like Jim it gave his heart a lurch and a wobble.
"Relax, Doc. I'll be fine."
McCoy resisted the urge to retort that the kid hadn't been fine, that he was still in a wheelchair for crying out loud, but Jimmy wasn't paying attention anymore, his eyes sliding over to Spock like he couldn't help himself. Starting from the healed cut to Jimmy's brow, the doctor let his eyes drift over the teenager and swallowed at the thick clump of sentimental goo that rose up from his stomach. He felt stupid that he cared so damn much about the kid being happy that seeing him happy… well, it made McCoy want to dance on the rooftops. He felt strongly about young Spock's wellbeing as well but, it wasn't to the same degree. After all, he had grown ups who cared about him, but Jimmy…
You're a fool, he told himself, you're an old bleeding heart of a fool. But the doctor couldn't shake his memory of the anguish on Jimmy's face when he'd begged for his dad to be saved. To see him now so…so lit up from the inside, it settled a weight in McCoy that he didn't know he was carrying. He didn't know how much longer Jimmy would have this since at some point the kid would probably be shipped back to Earth, but he'd bet his finest bottle of Saurian brandy that the two would see each other again sooner rather than later; according to Chekov, young Spock had already picked out his preferred final year electives at the Academy.
"Doctor McCoy," Amanda Grayson's voice startled him out of his contemplation, "Doctor McCoy?"
He waved away her concern. "Long shift, sorry, you were saying?"
"Won't you join us?"
McCoy shook his head, "Thank you but I'm afraid I have to decline. I'm on another shift tonight."
"Oh of course, then don't let us keep you."
On his way out the door, he heard the kid expressing undying love to Spock's mother for bringing "awesome" food. It was an ordinary scene, amazingly normal; teenage boys everywhere probably acted exactly the same in response to the prospect of a good feed. McCoy hid his grin, but not very successfully. A Vulcan healer heading in the opposite direction on the stairs stared unabashedly at his uninhibited expression of joy in what was probably Vulcan-horror.
"Ma'am," he greeted, tipping an invisible hat in true Southern Cavalier style.
Doing another walk by of Hendorff's group, McCoy scowled as he caught sight of several familiar faces, who'd given him more than a fair share of strife back on the Enterprise, out of bed when they shouldn't be. Swiftly, he changed course, ready to put the fear of God into these troublemakers.
Engineers, he mentally snorted, no goddamn sense at all…
Planet-side: Vulcan, Starfleet Base - Solkar Campus, year 2246
"Commander Spock!"
Spock turned, startled to hear his name called in public as it was considered impolite on Vulcan. The First Officer of the Enterprise was even more startled to see it was Commodore Kirk, who was running towards him across the shuttle pad. Deciding that something urgent was likely responsible for her visit, Spock was about to inform Ensign Sepp to assume command of alpha shift and leave without him when she leaped onto the shuttle.
"Permission to come aboard, Commander," she panted, and brushed past him without waiting for an answer.
Doctor McCoy raised his eyebrows in surprise; they climbed further when the commodore took the seat directly across the aisle from the First Officer. In the main cabin, the crew continued to speak amongst themselves, unaware of their unexpected visitor. At a loss as to what to do, Spock took his usual seat and fastened his safety restraints as the hatch was closed. Overhead, the pilot announced imminent departure for the shipyard.
"Good morning, Commander, Doctor."
"Morning," Doctor McCoy replied cautiously.
The woman smiled briefly at Spock, an alien expression that sat strangely on her familiar features. Alien in that it was bereft of any warmth that even the smallest of smiles held when the captain made the same expression. He studied the contrast and wished that Humanity were not such an enigma.
It struck him that she referred to him by name and rank when he did not recall sharing these personal details, leading Spock to wonder whether she had arrived at the conclusion based on her observations or if her son had inadvertently revealed this to her. If it was the latter, then it would have to be impressed upon James Kirk the younger that the Temporal Prime Directive was to be taken seriously and no further breaches were acceptable.
"Commodore, may I inquire after the reason for your visit?"
"Just checking in on the refit," she replied easily. Too easily.
"We are proceeding on schedule."
"Good."
A long uncomfortable silence fell as the two officers regarded each other, one suspicious and the other vibrating with many unanswered questions, both equally unsure how to proceed. McCoy tried furiously to ignore them and wondered why on Earth he thought it would be better to sit back here with Spock than the mob of redshirts.
The Vulcan turned away first, bewildered by the level of heightened emotions emanating from the commodore upon accessing his telesper senses. Being experienced with similar tensions when Jim was troubled or deep in thought, Spock tightened his mental shielding and loaded the repair logs on his PADD, intent on utilizing his time productively until Commodore Kirk was ready to speak. It was not easy to ignore her projected emotions, due to their strength and proximity, but the level of detail within Mister Scott's logs soon held his full attention.
Seated an arm's length away, Winona Kirk stared blindly ahead, still unsettled by her morning. She had prepared herself for histrionics, anger, the silent treatment, even despair but Jimmy had merely nodded at her announcement, asked questions about her new commission, even requesting to visit her on the ship when he was better. She should be pleased that her son was growing up, but all she could think about was that he'd stopped needing her, and that he had someone else now.
"Actually, I've been reassigned. I thought to let you know in person."
Failing to see how this news required the commodore to inform him personally, Spock hid a frown. "I am certain that your replacement shall be adequate."
"Yes, well, Captain Pike is going to be taking over effective immediately. I wanted to come aboard today, see the progress of the refit in person before signing off my final report."
"I see."
She gestured for the datapad and Spock handed it over without comment. He observed her carefully; while the commodore displayed casual interest in the repair logs, flicking through them at a moderate pace, she remained undeniably tense and distracted. Subterfuge of this sort may have worked upon another, but he was quite familiar with avoidant behavior amongst Humans.
"Commodore Kirk," he ventured quietly; a quick glance ascertained that the main cabin continued to be unaware of their guest, "may I be frank?"
A row in front of them, Doctor McCoy's head jerked in surprise and started to turn before he hastily aborted the movement, instead ducking his head back down to face his PADD in a poor pretense of being preoccupied.
Winona Kirk glanced across the walkway separating them. With a gaze that could almost be described as fierce, a sullen expression and even sharper features than the teenage boy sharing his DNA, Commander Spock was utterly alien and seemed to lose even the hints of inherited Humanity that she'd managed to see in Spock, son of Sarek and Amanda, the boy whom Jimmy called his best friend.
"Commodore Kirk, as you're aware I am bound by the Temporal Prime Directive; in addition I have made a personal vow to not interfere in the events of the current timeline any further than I already have. However, as you have addressed me by name, I can only assume that you have arrived at the logical conclusion."
The logical conclusion, Winona thought wryly, what an understatement.
"Having said that, it was made clear that there was to be no extended personal contact between the crew of my ship and anyone of this timeline - which leads me to ask: why are you aboard this shuttle? Your very presence is a breach of the agreement you enacted."
Yes, she probably wasn't supposed to be here but that never stopped her. She felt a grudging admiration for the Vulcan's directness - and his sharp mind.
Winona Kirk had done her research and knew as much about Spock, son of Sarek and Amanda Grayson, as the Starfleet Diplomatic Corps did. Born upon Vulcan on the outskirts of Shikahr at a clan estate inherited by his father, his childhood was unremarkable except for having racked up some impressive interstellar millage due to the ambassador's diplomatic tours. He was academically gifted, proficient in Standard and several dialects of Vulcan, and held a high telesper rating. Of course being half-Human, there were articles which referred to him in passing, usually medical research papers and xenobiological case studies, but for the most part Spock was an ordinary citizen.
"Commander Spock, I've been offered a new commission - the USS Monchezke - and will be shipping out in three days time."
If she wasn't paying attention, she would have missed the slight widening of the Vulcan's eyes.
"You are not remaining on Vulcan."
Swallowing down the urge to crack a sarcastic comment on him stating the stupidly obvious, she averted her eyes. "No, I am not."
It wasn't for the lack of trying; she'd already delayed the launch by four months when she threw what for her was a full hissy fit and demanded a full systems calibration be done before she took over, giving her the needed extra time to spend with Jimmy and deal with his situation. The admiralty had probably known what she was doing but no one called her out. It couldn't be delayed anymore though.
"The USS Monchezke is an exemplary vessel. Congratulations, sir."
Though the statement was toneless, she felt a sensation not unlike self-hatred rip through her chest. It took all of her control to keep her voice even.
"Thank you. In answer to your question, Commander - since we're speaking frankly - I thought you should know that I've been contacted about formalizing a betrothal bond between Jimmy and Spock, Ambassador Sarek's son."
There was a quickly stifled choking noise from the doctor's seat. They both hardly noticed.
"I see."
Closing her eyes for several beats and wondering why she even thought this was a good idea, Winona Kirk whirled to face the object of her scrutiny. "Commander, I'm uncomfortable with the very idea of a 'betrothal bond.' I have tried to make something-"
There was a whistle from the overhead speakers but Winona ignored it.
"-romantic out of this whole thing, but your younger self is only fifteen. I don't want to belittle him because he is smarter than I am, but fifteen is still fifteen. And despite being half-Human you've chosen to honor the Vulcan way, Mister Spock - and he's basically you - which means that I can't even delude myself by thinking that there are somehow feelings involved. This leads me to two options; that this bond is for convenience or for politics. Ambassador Sarek has been-"
"Ambassador Sarek would not use a bond for the purposes which you are suggesting," the commander interrupted, his sharp tone surprising her. He sounded angry.
"Firstly, it would be illogical not to mention amoral to use such contrived means to gain political leverage, as considerable damage may be inflicted upon the minds of the bonded parties if they were promptly separated once the political purpose had been fulfilled; secondly, convenience is not a word any Vulcan would use to describe an agreement of this nature."
The dark eyes met hers, sending a zap of electricity down her spine.
"A betrothal bond is a solemn promise, Commodore, made in good faith. While it has been known to be dissolved when parties are in mutual agreement of their incompatibility, it is as important as the actual marriage, years from now. The initiator of the agreement will be required to give material and monetary support to maintain the intended, as for all intents and purposes she or he will join said clan and is the responsibility of that clan."
"Attention all passengers, please prepare for turbulence. We shall be docking shortly."
The commander broke off their stare, turning back to face the main cabin where other passengers were already preparing themselves in response to the overhead announcement. Winona Kirk held out the datapad without being asked; it had long since been forgotten in her lap. There was a slight jolt as the shuttle made touch-down.
Commander Spock stood to leave with the repair crew, switching gears with an ease that made her envious. "To assist in the completion of your last report as our liaison, Commodore, I shall be happy to introduce you to our chief engineer once I have been debriefed."
You, happy? Winona almost snorted.
"Of course; see you in a bit."
As the shuttle emptied, to her surprise, the Vulcan didn't follow the crew. Standing eerily still by the exit, he glanced over his shoulder at her. His expression shifted - it was almost as if he were apprehensive.
"Commodore…this is highly irregular and I understand that it is not my place, however, I wish to inquire after your plans for James Kirk."
The alternate future Leonard McCoy fixed her with a indignant glare as he rose to his feet, not even bothering to hide his eavesdropping.
"Ma'am, Jimmy's in no shape to go warping around the galaxy with you!"
"And he's not."
The Vulcan raised an eyebrow as he stepped back from the shuttle door, plainly puzzled. "You are accepting the ambassador's offer?"
Ignoring the intense stares being leveled at her, Winona unbuckled her safety belt, passive-aggressively taking the time to do it properly.
"I'm currently considering the possibility of sending Jimmy to Tarsus IV - once he's good to travel, naturally. My aunt and uncle live there and have said previously they'd be happy to have long-term visitors. It's a nice place, mostly farms, good place to recuperate, lots of families."
With an abruptness that startled both of them, Doctor Leonard McCoy pushed past Spock with a rudeness that was unusual even for him and stormed away without saying a word.
He couldn't take it anymore! To not say something about Tarsus IV made him want to break something! Despite the fact that Jimmy Kirk wasn't Jim, his friend and one of the best men he knew, his heart went out to the kid. Missing for over six months, six damn months, presumed dead and given up on by everyone including his own mother - then as soon as he's rescued and it's confirmed that he'll live, the woman takes off again. If Jimmy ended up on Tarsus IV right after the trauma he'd just gone through…the doctor had a dozen things he wanted to say to Commodore Winona Kirk and none of them pretty.
Left alone with the commodore, Spock sought to control his warring emotions; despite his efforts though, when he spoke, it was not entirely calm.
"Commodore…I recommend that you reconsider the ambassador's offer."
Winona Kirk regarded him in surprise. The naked vulnerability displayed by the First Officer was a shock to her after having come to expect only haughty reserve. Though it should have comforted her to see this glimmer of Humanity, it just made her uncomfortable.
"Commander, ah there you are!" A man in his late thirties - clearly Scottish judging by his accent - waved at them cheerfully, leaning into the shuttle, "I see we've got a guest! Welcome aboard, Commodore. Are you getting off here or are you heading back to Vulcan with the gamma shift?"
"Commodore Kirk, may I present our chief engineer," the Vulcan introduced, his face wiped blank once more. "The commodore will be making her final report as our liaison, if you will apprise her of the current state of repairs, Commander."
"Oh of course," the man beamed, "Right this way, sir."
Following the ship's chief engineer, a troubled Winona Kirk exited the shuttle. Two days ago, she had been more or less certain that sending Jimmy to Tarsus IV would be for the best, but now…
Despite all her personal feelings of antagonism towards Commander Spock, for him to ask her to reconsider - breaking his own vow of non-interference and only short of violating the Temporal Prime Direction on technicality - why would he do that? Why would he risk it? Unless…
In an alternate timeline, perhaps she'd never made a decision to sent Jimmy to Tarsus IV. Maybe Jimmy needed to experience something on Earth, or meet someone on Vulcan to ensure temporal continuance. According to Captain 'Jim,' her son had a role to play - or was that irrelevant now that history was different now? Perhaps the commander was lying, trying to manipulate her into accepting Ambassador Sarek's offer. But Vulcans didn't lie, she reminded herself, and went back to reviewing the facts again even as her tension headache increased exponentially. She was starting to understand why no DTI agent ever had a sense of humor.
What are you going to do, Winnie? She could hear George asking.
"Honestly," she murmured under her breath, "No idea."
Planet-side: Vulcan, Shikahr City, Roktor-gel Quarter, year 2246
Winona Kirk felt sweat prick at the nape of her neck as she walked briskly down the street. Subtle filters above her tempered the harshness of Vulcan's suns, but it was still hotter than she remembered from her cadet days. Turning left at the next intersection, she noticed an immediate change in the signage as she drew closer to Shikahr's Terran enclave. The restaurant was as discreet as she could have hoped for, set in an enclosed courtyard on a walk up laneway behind some flashier establishments. Her lunch appointment was already waiting for her, sun-veils folded at her side. Winona glanced at her personal tricorder before snapping it close - it seemed that they were both early.
"Lady Sarek?
The Human wife of the Vulcan Ambassador smiled warmly, "Commodore Kirk."
"Winona, actually - I'm not on duty."
"And my name isn't Sarek," the woman gestured for her to sit. "Please, call me Amanda - Amanda Grayson. Our sons are friends."
Was that what it was called on Vulcan? The commodore sat down, and allowed herself to be served a glass of water. She tried to pace herself but still gulped down the liquid in mouthfuls, drained by the walk from the nearest transporter station and still weary after a packed morning spent in final debriefings before she sent off the Douglas to pick up her new captain.
The invitation to have lunch had come from Lady T'Pau two days ago, and arrived just as she'd wrapped up her tour of the Enterprise, her excuse to ambush Commander Spock. Winona thought about declining - the timing was awfully suspicious - but in the end it just wasn't worth possibly offending the Vulcan matriarch over a free lunch. It was pretty obvious to her though that 'lunch' was simply an euphemism for negotiations.
She had to admit, she was curious about the ambassador's wife; anyone who could get a good reference from the very intimidating Lady T'Pau was worth a meeting and the brief glimpses in passing at the hospital didn't tell her much. But as Winona studied the holographic menu that flickered over the tabletop, she rather wished this were a real negotiation, one with armed guards and obvious hostility. This whole business of having lunch together, disguising the tensions by watering it down with social niceties - she hated the whole damn idea of it.
There was nothing but vegetables and then more vegetables, so Winona picked the Mediterranean salad, a cold Vulcan spice tea and then regretted it immediately when she looked up to meet the other woman's gaze. She'd just given up her best excuse to continue ignoring the Lady Sarek. Her uncertainty threatened to freeze her like a first-year cadet before she shook it off by sheer will.
Across the table, Amanda Grayson looked on with dark curious eyes, so eerily similar to her son, Spock. Winona glanced at her ears, looking for points; the woman's ears were completely round.
"You know, I think Spock has a little crush on you."
Winona almost choked on air.
"Besides his demands that I bring every single education holovid from home that he possesses so he can show it off to James, his favorite topic right now is Starfleet. He insists that he's impressed with the engineering, the opportunities for scientific research, the academic rigors, and vehemently denies it as being anything but professional admiration, yet I'm pretty sure he's got a touch of hero worship."
Winona Kirk caught the twinkle in the other woman's eyes and couldn't help warming to Amanda Grayson even as her stomach twisted.
"It's nice to hear him enthuse about something - all too often, I'll ask him a million questions and get nothing but one word answers."
She knew what the woman was doing. She did it herself - connecting with her opponent on common ground. Winona supposed she could go along with the attempt to get the conversation rolling in an easy neutral direction, wait for it to lead to where they both knew it would - whether or not she'd give Jimmy up to be raised by strangers - but frankly she just didn't care.
"That can't have pleased the ambassador. Aren't Vulcans against violence?"
"Theoretically," Amanda Grayson deflected the implied insinuation easily, "but don't let the empty expanses of desert and over-developed cities fool you. Vulcan is a violent planet, with an equally violent past. Their education continues to stress tradition, which often includes the study and practice of martial arts and weapons. I can tell you, Commodore, those bouts are no joking matter. There's usually blood."
She'd heard about that; after all, she'd done her final year survival training here and studied Vulcan self-defense at the Academy. An awkward silence ensued, broken by the arrival of a young woman with their drinks. Amanda Grayson smiled at their server and thanked her. She smiled a lot, a lot more than one would expect from someone who had chosen to marry a Vulcan. Which, really, who the hell would choose to marry a Vulcan?
"There's a saying - when all rational solutions refuse to fit the available facts, then we seek an irrational solution that does. It gets repeated quite a bit, in all different variations."
"I think you mean; when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains,however improbable, must be the truth."
Amanda Grayson smile brightened if that was even possible, "Despite complaints about gross inaccuracies, they were Spock's favorite bedtime stories."
Winona tried to imagine a young Vulcan boy clamoring onto his bed and eagerly listening to bedtime stories about serial killers, violent criminals and one drug-addicted gentleman in late Victorian England. She could see why Jimmy would like the kid; he had taste.
"Spock believes in that saying, probably more than he should," Her host's smile waned, "After everything that's happened, he sees Vulcan education as 'inadequate preparation for the realities of the galaxy,' and he intends to remedy that immediately."
Winona swallowed thickly, a rush of hot emotion welling up at the thought of how much suffering had been endured to teach that harsh lesson. She reached for her glass of water, taking a long drink to try and ignore how much she could relate. For her as well, one could never be too prepared.
"If he wasn't under doctor's orders, I think he would be banging on your door to talk you into sponsoring him for the Starfleet Academy Entrance Exams."
She could imagine it. That determination was probably how he convinced Lady T'Pau to step in on his behalf and wear Winona down in a last ditch attempt to make her leave Jimmy on Vulcan.
"Starfleet would be lucky to have him," she said, and she meant it.
Despite how she felt about this weird situation, Starfleet wouldn't know what hit them if Spock took on the Academy. The boy was exceptionally bright and granted, Starfleet was full of bright kids, but the stubborn will to persevere against all odds, that was something else. She respected his inner strength, and if he were older, she might have been the one approaching him to enlist.
"Thank you," Amanda Grayson said with solemnity, "Thank you for bringing back my son. I know you're going to say that it's your duty, but let's be honest - what you do on a day to day basis, Winona, the risks that you take on, it's never just duty."
She shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable. It was difficult to continue seeing the woman as her opponent when she was proving herself to not only be intelligent but intuitive. If they had met under other circumstances, Winona had no difficulties imagining them as friends. There was a quiet assurance in Amanda Grayson she felt drawn to and reminded her strongly of Admiral Barnett.
"Your son kept my son alive."
"And vice versa," the woman paused, "Commodore- Winona, I know you must be concerned about what we're proposing. It is, I know, a very alien concept, and I had a hard time accepting it when Spock was pledged the first time around. But Vulcans are telepaths, and they have mental needs that can only be fulfilled by telepathic bonds."
Winona took a sip of water, trying to aim for calm composure. The bond wasn't something she really understood despite the many times it had been explained to her. It was like explaining the sky to the blind, she supposed. But she knew enough to understand its importance, the consequences of removing the spontaneous wild bond Jimmy had in his head. It had also been explained to her that a bond couldn't be used to coerce and Jimmy's bond with his new Vulcan friend could only thrive as it was due to mental compatibility and mutual affection. That last part, that was the important factor as far as she was concerned.
"I know, I've been briefed by Healer Sorel."
The woman smiled, but its brightness had dimmed. "It's a special thing among Vulcans, to find one who matches you so well."
Was it that way with you and the ambassador? Winona didn't ask.
As far as Jimmy was concerned, there was nothing strange about the bond. He barely felt its influence, and described it to her as a warm feeling, a sixth sense about Spock, his moods, if he was close or far away. Winona had half-expected Jimmy to demand he be allowed to stay with the ambassador's family on Vulcan, because surely Spock or the ambassador or someone would have told Jimmy about the request to formalize the bond. It's what she would have done - gone behind her back and asked the hormonally-addled teenage boy - but while Jimmy was steadfastly loyal to Spock, he never brought up the bond as an excuse to stay behind on Vulcan.
With suspiciously good timing, a waiter arrived with a new carafe of water and a large irregularly-shaped plate of what looked like bite-sized appetizers in the crook of his arm, resetting the mood at the table. Winona wondered if the man was telepathic.
"I hope you don't mind, but I ordered this to share." Amanda Grayson pushed the plate towards her, "It's very good, please try some."
Despite the fact that she wasn't really in the mood to eat, Winona forced herself to take a few.
"I know you must have questions."
Was there something in the Vulcan atmosphere that made everyone to speak in understatements?
"I've seen you in passing at the hospital but we've never really had an opportunity to talk."
She wondered if the woman was that naïve to not notice someone avoiding her, but then she caught the glint in Amanda Grayson's eyes. "It's hard for me just leaving Spock for a few weeks with relatives, people I know and trust, so I'm sure it's a tall ask for you to consider leaving Jimmy with us, for months and possibly years at a time. I usually send a video message twice a week during these trips and I would have no problems with organizing the same for James to keep in contact with you."
Actually, if Sam hadn't come home, Jimmy's disappearance would have probably gone unnoticed for weeks - regular calls weren't really her thing. Shit. Winona allowed herself to experience a moment of shame.
Anyone who didn't belong to the Fleet would have considered her decision to take such a faraway posting incomprehensible, even heartless; after all Jimmy needed a parent, someone to bug him to eat right and go to bed early, and coddle him when he sweated through painful sessions of physical therapy. She didn't expect Ambassador Sarek and his wife to understand her choice - people rarely did - but she had done her own tally and knew the score. With the third and seventh fleet decimated and several crucial outposts gone, Starfleet needed every experienced command officer they could get. Despite what Pike thought, her new commission was not a reward nor a bribe but a call to arms. She was going to the USS Monchezke to even the odds; after all, even a science vessel could put up a fight, if her captain knew how. This was for Jimmy, for Sam, even if no one else would see it that way.
Her host's gaze was gentle. "No one in my family has ever served in Starfleet, so I can't imagine the pressures that you and your crew go through as a matter of fact. That you managed to have a family at all, and raised a son as accomplished and good-natured as James - you have nothing to prove to anyone as far as I'm concerned."
"That's just luck," she dismissed, because it was true.
All of it - Jimmy's good looks, his smarts, his resilient bright personality and physical prowess - was sheer dumb luck, or as George would say, providence. There had been no guarantees that the good genes would be passed on second time around after Sam, but then there he was, a small wrinkled thing in the crook of her arm, with her father-in-law's startling crystalline eyes and her mother's dark blonde hair.
"I don't think you're giving yourself enough credit."
She ducked away from Amanda Grayson's searching look with a mirthless smile, because if the woman only knew...
"I've spent enough time with James to know that he has been raised to be articulate, knowledgeable, and compassionate. You should be proud of him."
Unease twisted in Winona's chest like a monster trying to crawl its way out. The woman was making it sound like she'd purposely set out to expand Jimmy's horizons when that wasn't the case at all. The more demanding of her two sons and the more curious, she'd given Jimmy every book and holovid he could want, enough to fill a library, and sent him on every excursion he was interested in, trying to distract him from noticing her absence. Whenever they talked, she'd filled their conversations with educational tidbits and random facts, often trying to get Jimmy to talk about his life on Earth, diverting their discussions away from her missions, her absence. For years, Jimmy believed that if he impressed her enough, she'd stay - and worst of all, she had let him believe it.
"I am," she said, finding it suddenly hard to breath as confusing emotions swelled in her chest.
She was proud, Winona realized, because her son was amazing, despite her failures. And Jimmy deserved to have people who gave a damn about him, who would notice if he went missing, who knew his favorite food.
Mouth dry, she looked up at the woman across the table from her, her doubts about Tarsus IV increasing exponentially.
Jimmy deserved to have Amanda Grayson make his favorite food, to have visitors everyday at his bedside, to be taken to exotic planets with the ambassador's family and attend one of the best schools in the Federation. She had spent sleepless nights back on the farm in Iowa, loathing herself - not because he was gone - but because she hadn't realized he was gone, and couldn't even say if he had gone off on his own because she didn't know who he was, barely remembered what he liked to eat much less what troubled him, what made him happy, what he aspired to become.
Amanda smiled, "Spock adores him."
Perhaps, but since it was an alien adoration that she had no frame of reference for, she didn't really care. She could only go with what she did understand, and the kid certainly knew more about her son than she did.
Chris was firmly of the opinion that Jimmy should return to Earth if Tarsus IV was no longer an option, and had even gone so far as to offer himself up as a foster parent. She'd declined, of course, because it didn't seem fair and Jimmy barely knew him. Since Jimmy had been pretty much running his own life for years, she'd considered making this his decision - but every time Winona tried asking him to make a choice, something inside of her rebelled.
Spock, the boy who had befriended him and saved his life, who could offer Jimmy a comfortable family life and the best educational opportunities this side of the Alpha Quadrant versus a grand-aunt and uncle he had never met before in a new colony off the beaten interstellar track? The choice seemed obvious, except she had needed to be sure of these people, that they would do right by Jimmy and weren't just doing taking her son in for the benefit of their own child.
Staring across the table at the other mother, Winona Kirk took a leap of faith.
"Actually, I wanted to meet you today because I've accepted a new commission and will leave day after tomorrow… I was going to arrange to send Jimmy to Tarsus IV after he was finished with mandatory therapy. I have an aunt and uncle there, and I've heard that the colony is doing well despite how young it is. But…I've spoken to a several people - and they seem to disagree." She breathed out, "I think they're right."
Amanda's expression never wavered as she refilled their water glasses, movements sedate and elegant, despite Winona watching her carefully for any signs of triumph. "Congratulations on the new commission. I'm sure Jimmy's proud."
She cleared her throat, "Yes."
Yes, he had been proud.
Was it terrible that she was slightly unsettled because he wasn't upset at her leaving? Being envious of a teenaged Vulcan boy who was sucking up all her son's attention and time made her feel silly.
Amanda smiled tentatively, "Then…?"
She smiled back, feeling like her old self as she wryly admitted, "Ah, I don't really know how to proceed but Admiral Perim is willing to lend me someone from her legal team to get Jimmy sorted for long-term residency on Vulcan."
Startled delight filled the woman's smile and the waiter appeared as though magically summoned, replacing dirtied plates and utensils before coming back with their mains. Feeling as though a literal weight had been overthrown, Winona dug into her salad and savored its tangy sweetness, letting it distract her from the heady sensation of being suddenly made lighter. Soon a new conversation began between the two women, starting with a discussion about the restaurant's food before shifting onto Jimmy's choices for school upon Vulcan, his medical needs, what a Starfleet career entailed for someone pursuing the Science track and Amanda Grayson's enduring love of roses.
28 continued here
Planet-side: Vulcan, Shikahr City, Vulcan Academy Hospital, year 2246
Doctor Leonard McCoy was having a rotten day. Or night. After a standard shift on the ship, the last thing he felt like doing was trooping all the way to Shikahr to do his regular check up on the crew still being treated at the Vulcan Academy Hospital. It wasn't that he didn't like his work - he liked it fine - but the schedule that Spock and Scotty had cooked up between the two of them was edging on madness! Shore leave only ended two months ago and already he felt like a holiday.
He was no engineer but even he could tell that they were trying to slap the ship back together in a half the time that a regular refit would take with half the necessary crew needed. Now, he wanted out of here as much as anyone else, but the heavy workload meant long hours, people trying to take on more than they ought to, and random crew pitching in to help out when really, they were just not qualified.
Accidents were starting to happen, and not good ones.
He'd already aired his grievances, throwing down an ultimatum that Scotty and Spock were going to need to work on reducing hours, because the amount of injuries walking through his sickbay doors was unacceptable. There was simply no reason to work the crew like it was wartime when the fight was over. Thankfully, Jim agreed and had backed him up, because considering their situation, dragging back their flight date another few weeks hardly mattered.
No one said it aloud but you didn't have to be telepathic to know what everyone was thinking : despite all the effort to repair the ship, there were no guarantees that they would ever return to their timeline. Spock was on it with Chekov though, looking through their options with a team of scientists and two specialists on loan to them from the DTI.
Sighing heavily at the thought of the months ahead of them, McCoy slowed his pace as he rounded the corridor to the rooms housing the Enterprise crew. Most of the beds were empty, but a few familiar faces looked up and waved as he walked past. The doctor noted Sulu and Uhura holding court at a table with Hendorff's group of redshirts as he passed the spacious indoor garden courtyard set aside as in-patient leisure space. He didn't stop though, continuing on down the corridor and going upstairs to visit his youngest patient.
"Jimmy?"
The sole occupant of the room looked over from her careful examination of a potted plant on the window sill, the shimmering material of her robes gleaming in the filtered sunlight.
Caught off guard, McCoy came to an abrupt stop.
"Doctor McCoy," Amanda Grayson greeted, a warm smile upon her face. "I was told to expect you."
"Ma'am," he nodded, falling back on the good old fashioned manner instilled in him by Aunt Gladys.
They might have never met face-to-face but he'd been teleconferenced in when the Vulcan healers had discussed Spock's condition, and so they were hardly strangers. She was a regular in this room, judging by his perusal of the visitor logs - the only other visitors who attended regularly were Ambassador Sarek and Winona Kirk, and that was every other day. Amanda Grayson visited every day, sometimes more than once. She was one dedicated mother, as far as he was concerned, and a classy lady. It was the first time he'd bumped into her though, since her visits were daily appointments while his schedule was all over the darn place; seeing her in the flesh was a little strange really.
The woman who was meant to be Spock's mother was of average height and slender, her dark eyes instantly drawing comparisons with the First Officer that he so enjoyed ribbing. Without the fancy robes and complex hairdo, McCoy could imagine her taking coffee and cake at some random San Francisco street corner café.
Sensing his distraction, she quickly stepped away from the mess that was Jimmy's bed. "Oh please don't let me stop you from what you need to do; I promised to take the boys to lunch, you see."
At his raised eyebrows - because the boys were not cleared to leave the grounds of the hospital if he had anything to say about it - her smile widened as she added in a hurry, "We're doing a picnic in the hospital gardens. I've brought ham and pickle sandwiches for Jim, and Spock's favorite salad; root vegetables and dried gespar with skonvu dressing."
"That sounds wonderful," McCoy deadpanned, a lie if he ever heard one.
Her smile turned knowing and he cleared his throat, chagrined to be caught disparaging a woman's cooking. That was another thing one learned living with any McCoy - food prepared by a lady was to be eaten and appreciated, without any of your darn cheek thank you very much.
"I'm sure he'll love it."
Thankfully she was bemused rather than offended.
"The boys will be back soon. I arrived just as they were being taken away for some test," she said, answering his unspoken question. "I believe it was ordered by the nutritionist."
"I see, right, well, then please excuse me," McCoy gestured vaguely to the built-in monitors above Jimmy's bed and resisted the urge to straighten his plain black undershirt, having no doubt that his appearance was less than regulation.
"Of course."
Moving to the open displays, the doctor kept his eyes on his PADD as Jimmy's medical details were updated and changes were imputed in accordance. He couldn't quite manage not to notice the swish of Amanda Grayson's skirt hem against the cold granite of the hospital ward floors though, or the little noises she made as she returned to examining the various 'Get Well' foliage on Jimmy's windowsill. He wondered if he was supposed to speak, and was just about to make an attempt at chit chat when a shout at the door startled him into whipping around.
"Hey Doc!"
Leonard McCoy allowed a crooked grin before steeling his face to unimpressed, "What did I say about energy conservation?"
Jimmy's answering grin was irrepressibly gleeful. "What? I can't get excited to see you?"
McCoy snorted because if there was another thing universal to Jim Kirks, they were certainly charming little shits.
The young Vulcan glanced down at his hospital roommate and lifted one unimpressed eyebrow.
"Hey Spock."
The teen nodded a greeting at the doctor but lost interest instantly to drift over to his mother. McCoy didn't blame him. Amanda Grayson's smile practically beamed around the room as she cupped the young Vulcan's face in a soft intimate greeting. No one seemed to notice the silent sentinel of a Vulcan loitering around the doorway.
The Enterprise's Chief of Medical raised a mental eyebrow wondering what that was all about because he'd never seen the boys without their expressionless Vulcan guard, even when he'd dropped by in the dead of night. Sulu thought it was security organized by the ambassador so no one could make off with his son again while Chekov was convinced that Spock was somehow ancient Vulcan nobility. McCoy was pretty certain that M'Benga knew what it was for, but whatever the reason, he wasn't saying.
By the windows, mother and son's soft Vulcan greetings turned into a show-and-tell as the woman began opening the bags she had with her. Realizing that he was probably intruding on a picnic he wasn't invited to, McCoy asked Jimmy a couple of questions before warning him as usual to take it easy, the jokes and easy banter passing between them dispelling the last of the weariness from his long shift. As usual, the kid rolled his eyes, looking so much like Jim it gave his heart a lurch and a wobble.
"Relax, Doc. I'll be fine."
McCoy resisted the urge to retort that the kid hadn't been fine, that he was still in a wheelchair for crying out loud, but Jimmy wasn't paying attention anymore, his eyes sliding over to Spock like he couldn't help himself. Starting from the healed cut to Jimmy's brow, the doctor let his eyes drift over the teenager and swallowed at the thick clump of sentimental goo that rose up from his stomach. He felt stupid that he cared so damn much about the kid being happy that seeing him happy… well, it made McCoy want to dance on the rooftops. He felt strongly about young Spock's wellbeing as well but, it wasn't to the same degree. After all, he had grown ups who cared about him, but Jimmy…
You're a fool, he told himself, you're an old bleeding heart of a fool. But the doctor couldn't shake his memory of the anguish on Jimmy's face when he'd begged for his dad to be saved. To see him now so…so lit up from the inside, it settled a weight in McCoy that he didn't know he was carrying. He didn't know how much longer Jimmy would have this since at some point the kid would probably be shipped back to Earth, but he'd bet his finest bottle of Saurian brandy that the two would see each other again sooner rather than later; according to Chekov, young Spock had already picked out his preferred final year electives at the Academy.
"Doctor McCoy," Amanda Grayson's voice startled him out of his contemplation, "Doctor McCoy?"
He waved away her concern. "Long shift, sorry, you were saying?"
"Won't you join us?"
McCoy shook his head, "Thank you but I'm afraid I have to decline. I'm on another shift tonight."
"Oh of course, then don't let us keep you."
On his way out the door, he heard the kid expressing undying love to Spock's mother for bringing "awesome" food. It was an ordinary scene, amazingly normal; teenage boys everywhere probably acted exactly the same in response to the prospect of a good feed. McCoy hid his grin, but not very successfully. A Vulcan healer heading in the opposite direction on the stairs stared unabashedly at his uninhibited expression of joy in what was probably Vulcan-horror.
"Ma'am," he greeted, tipping an invisible hat in true Southern Cavalier style.
Doing another walk by of Hendorff's group, McCoy scowled as he caught sight of several familiar faces, who'd given him more than a fair share of strife back on the Enterprise, out of bed when they shouldn't be. Swiftly, he changed course, ready to put the fear of God into these troublemakers.
Engineers, he mentally snorted, no goddamn sense at all…
Planet-side: Vulcan, Starfleet Base - Solkar Campus, year 2246
"Commander Spock!"
Spock turned, startled to hear his name called in public as it was considered impolite on Vulcan. The First Officer of the Enterprise was even more startled to see it was Commodore Kirk, who was running towards him across the shuttle pad. Deciding that something urgent was likely responsible for her visit, Spock was about to inform Ensign Sepp to assume command of alpha shift and leave without him when she leaped onto the shuttle.
"Permission to come aboard, Commander," she panted, and brushed past him without waiting for an answer.
Doctor McCoy raised his eyebrows in surprise; they climbed further when the commodore took the seat directly across the aisle from the First Officer. In the main cabin, the crew continued to speak amongst themselves, unaware of their unexpected visitor. At a loss as to what to do, Spock took his usual seat and fastened his safety restraints as the hatch was closed. Overhead, the pilot announced imminent departure for the shipyard.
"Good morning, Commander, Doctor."
"Morning," Doctor McCoy replied cautiously.
The woman smiled briefly at Spock, an alien expression that sat strangely on her familiar features. Alien in that it was bereft of any warmth that even the smallest of smiles held when the captain made the same expression. He studied the contrast and wished that Humanity were not such an enigma.
It struck him that she referred to him by name and rank when he did not recall sharing these personal details, leading Spock to wonder whether she had arrived at the conclusion based on her observations or if her son had inadvertently revealed this to her. If it was the latter, then it would have to be impressed upon James Kirk the younger that the Temporal Prime Directive was to be taken seriously and no further breaches were acceptable.
"Commodore, may I inquire after the reason for your visit?"
"Just checking in on the refit," she replied easily. Too easily.
"We are proceeding on schedule."
"Good."
A long uncomfortable silence fell as the two officers regarded each other, one suspicious and the other vibrating with many unanswered questions, both equally unsure how to proceed. McCoy tried furiously to ignore them and wondered why on Earth he thought it would be better to sit back here with Spock than the mob of redshirts.
The Vulcan turned away first, bewildered by the level of heightened emotions emanating from the commodore upon accessing his telesper senses. Being experienced with similar tensions when Jim was troubled or deep in thought, Spock tightened his mental shielding and loaded the repair logs on his PADD, intent on utilizing his time productively until Commodore Kirk was ready to speak. It was not easy to ignore her projected emotions, due to their strength and proximity, but the level of detail within Mister Scott's logs soon held his full attention.
Seated an arm's length away, Winona Kirk stared blindly ahead, still unsettled by her morning. She had prepared herself for histrionics, anger, the silent treatment, even despair but Jimmy had merely nodded at her announcement, asked questions about her new commission, even requesting to visit her on the ship when he was better. She should be pleased that her son was growing up, but all she could think about was that he'd stopped needing her, and that he had someone else now.
"Actually, I've been reassigned. I thought to let you know in person."
Failing to see how this news required the commodore to inform him personally, Spock hid a frown. "I am certain that your replacement shall be adequate."
"Yes, well, Captain Pike is going to be taking over effective immediately. I wanted to come aboard today, see the progress of the refit in person before signing off my final report."
"I see."
She gestured for the datapad and Spock handed it over without comment. He observed her carefully; while the commodore displayed casual interest in the repair logs, flicking through them at a moderate pace, she remained undeniably tense and distracted. Subterfuge of this sort may have worked upon another, but he was quite familiar with avoidant behavior amongst Humans.
"Commodore Kirk," he ventured quietly; a quick glance ascertained that the main cabin continued to be unaware of their guest, "may I be frank?"
A row in front of them, Doctor McCoy's head jerked in surprise and started to turn before he hastily aborted the movement, instead ducking his head back down to face his PADD in a poor pretense of being preoccupied.
Winona Kirk glanced across the walkway separating them. With a gaze that could almost be described as fierce, a sullen expression and even sharper features than the teenage boy sharing his DNA, Commander Spock was utterly alien and seemed to lose even the hints of inherited Humanity that she'd managed to see in Spock, son of Sarek and Amanda, the boy whom Jimmy called his best friend.
"Commodore Kirk, as you're aware I am bound by the Temporal Prime Directive; in addition I have made a personal vow to not interfere in the events of the current timeline any further than I already have. However, as you have addressed me by name, I can only assume that you have arrived at the logical conclusion."
The logical conclusion, Winona thought wryly, what an understatement.
"Having said that, it was made clear that there was to be no extended personal contact between the crew of my ship and anyone of this timeline - which leads me to ask: why are you aboard this shuttle? Your very presence is a breach of the agreement you enacted."
Yes, she probably wasn't supposed to be here but that never stopped her. She felt a grudging admiration for the Vulcan's directness - and his sharp mind.
Winona Kirk had done her research and knew as much about Spock, son of Sarek and Amanda Grayson, as the Starfleet Diplomatic Corps did. Born upon Vulcan on the outskirts of Shikahr at a clan estate inherited by his father, his childhood was unremarkable except for having racked up some impressive interstellar millage due to the ambassador's diplomatic tours. He was academically gifted, proficient in Standard and several dialects of Vulcan, and held a high telesper rating. Of course being half-Human, there were articles which referred to him in passing, usually medical research papers and xenobiological case studies, but for the most part Spock was an ordinary citizen.
"Commander Spock, I've been offered a new commission - the USS Monchezke - and will be shipping out in three days time."
If she wasn't paying attention, she would have missed the slight widening of the Vulcan's eyes.
"You are not remaining on Vulcan."
Swallowing down the urge to crack a sarcastic comment on him stating the stupidly obvious, she averted her eyes. "No, I am not."
It wasn't for the lack of trying; she'd already delayed the launch by four months when she threw what for her was a full hissy fit and demanded a full systems calibration be done before she took over, giving her the needed extra time to spend with Jimmy and deal with his situation. The admiralty had probably known what she was doing but no one called her out. It couldn't be delayed anymore though.
"The USS Monchezke is an exemplary vessel. Congratulations, sir."
Though the statement was toneless, she felt a sensation not unlike self-hatred rip through her chest. It took all of her control to keep her voice even.
"Thank you. In answer to your question, Commander - since we're speaking frankly - I thought you should know that I've been contacted about formalizing a betrothal bond between Jimmy and Spock, Ambassador Sarek's son."
There was a quickly stifled choking noise from the doctor's seat. They both hardly noticed.
"I see."
Closing her eyes for several beats and wondering why she even thought this was a good idea, Winona Kirk whirled to face the object of her scrutiny. "Commander, I'm uncomfortable with the very idea of a 'betrothal bond.' I have tried to make something-"
There was a whistle from the overhead speakers but Winona ignored it.
"-romantic out of this whole thing, but your younger self is only fifteen. I don't want to belittle him because he is smarter than I am, but fifteen is still fifteen. And despite being half-Human you've chosen to honor the Vulcan way, Mister Spock - and he's basically you - which means that I can't even delude myself by thinking that there are somehow feelings involved. This leads me to two options; that this bond is for convenience or for politics. Ambassador Sarek has been-"
"Ambassador Sarek would not use a bond for the purposes which you are suggesting," the commander interrupted, his sharp tone surprising her. He sounded angry.
"Firstly, it would be illogical not to mention amoral to use such contrived means to gain political leverage, as considerable damage may be inflicted upon the minds of the bonded parties if they were promptly separated once the political purpose had been fulfilled; secondly, convenience is not a word any Vulcan would use to describe an agreement of this nature."
The dark eyes met hers, sending a zap of electricity down her spine.
"A betrothal bond is a solemn promise, Commodore, made in good faith. While it has been known to be dissolved when parties are in mutual agreement of their incompatibility, it is as important as the actual marriage, years from now. The initiator of the agreement will be required to give material and monetary support to maintain the intended, as for all intents and purposes she or he will join said clan and is the responsibility of that clan."
"Attention all passengers, please prepare for turbulence. We shall be docking shortly."
The commander broke off their stare, turning back to face the main cabin where other passengers were already preparing themselves in response to the overhead announcement. Winona Kirk held out the datapad without being asked; it had long since been forgotten in her lap. There was a slight jolt as the shuttle made touch-down.
Commander Spock stood to leave with the repair crew, switching gears with an ease that made her envious. "To assist in the completion of your last report as our liaison, Commodore, I shall be happy to introduce you to our chief engineer once I have been debriefed."
You, happy? Winona almost snorted.
"Of course; see you in a bit."
As the shuttle emptied, to her surprise, the Vulcan didn't follow the crew. Standing eerily still by the exit, he glanced over his shoulder at her. His expression shifted - it was almost as if he were apprehensive.
"Commodore…this is highly irregular and I understand that it is not my place, however, I wish to inquire after your plans for James Kirk."
The alternate future Leonard McCoy fixed her with a indignant glare as he rose to his feet, not even bothering to hide his eavesdropping.
"Ma'am, Jimmy's in no shape to go warping around the galaxy with you!"
"And he's not."
The Vulcan raised an eyebrow as he stepped back from the shuttle door, plainly puzzled. "You are accepting the ambassador's offer?"
Ignoring the intense stares being leveled at her, Winona unbuckled her safety belt, passive-aggressively taking the time to do it properly.
"I'm currently considering the possibility of sending Jimmy to Tarsus IV - once he's good to travel, naturally. My aunt and uncle live there and have said previously they'd be happy to have long-term visitors. It's a nice place, mostly farms, good place to recuperate, lots of families."
With an abruptness that startled both of them, Doctor Leonard McCoy pushed past Spock with a rudeness that was unusual even for him and stormed away without saying a word.
He couldn't take it anymore! To not say something about Tarsus IV made him want to break something! Despite the fact that Jimmy Kirk wasn't Jim, his friend and one of the best men he knew, his heart went out to the kid. Missing for over six months, six damn months, presumed dead and given up on by everyone including his own mother - then as soon as he's rescued and it's confirmed that he'll live, the woman takes off again. If Jimmy ended up on Tarsus IV right after the trauma he'd just gone through…the doctor had a dozen things he wanted to say to Commodore Winona Kirk and none of them pretty.
Left alone with the commodore, Spock sought to control his warring emotions; despite his efforts though, when he spoke, it was not entirely calm.
"Commodore…I recommend that you reconsider the ambassador's offer."
Winona Kirk regarded him in surprise. The naked vulnerability displayed by the First Officer was a shock to her after having come to expect only haughty reserve. Though it should have comforted her to see this glimmer of Humanity, it just made her uncomfortable.
"Commander, ah there you are!" A man in his late thirties - clearly Scottish judging by his accent - waved at them cheerfully, leaning into the shuttle, "I see we've got a guest! Welcome aboard, Commodore. Are you getting off here or are you heading back to Vulcan with the gamma shift?"
"Commodore Kirk, may I present our chief engineer," the Vulcan introduced, his face wiped blank once more. "The commodore will be making her final report as our liaison, if you will apprise her of the current state of repairs, Commander."
"Oh of course," the man beamed, "Right this way, sir."
Following the ship's chief engineer, a troubled Winona Kirk exited the shuttle. Two days ago, she had been more or less certain that sending Jimmy to Tarsus IV would be for the best, but now…
Despite all her personal feelings of antagonism towards Commander Spock, for him to ask her to reconsider - breaking his own vow of non-interference and only short of violating the Temporal Prime Direction on technicality - why would he do that? Why would he risk it? Unless…
In an alternate timeline, perhaps she'd never made a decision to sent Jimmy to Tarsus IV. Maybe Jimmy needed to experience something on Earth, or meet someone on Vulcan to ensure temporal continuance. According to Captain 'Jim,' her son had a role to play - or was that irrelevant now that history was different now? Perhaps the commander was lying, trying to manipulate her into accepting Ambassador Sarek's offer. But Vulcans didn't lie, she reminded herself, and went back to reviewing the facts again even as her tension headache increased exponentially. She was starting to understand why no DTI agent ever had a sense of humor.
What are you going to do, Winnie? She could hear George asking.
"Honestly," she murmured under her breath, "No idea."
Planet-side: Vulcan, Shikahr City, Roktor-gel Quarter, year 2246
Winona Kirk felt sweat prick at the nape of her neck as she walked briskly down the street. Subtle filters above her tempered the harshness of Vulcan's suns, but it was still hotter than she remembered from her cadet days. Turning left at the next intersection, she noticed an immediate change in the signage as she drew closer to Shikahr's Terran enclave. The restaurant was as discreet as she could have hoped for, set in an enclosed courtyard on a walk up laneway behind some flashier establishments. Her lunch appointment was already waiting for her, sun-veils folded at her side. Winona glanced at her personal tricorder before snapping it close - it seemed that they were both early.
"Lady Sarek?
The Human wife of the Vulcan Ambassador smiled warmly, "Commodore Kirk."
"Winona, actually - I'm not on duty."
"And my name isn't Sarek," the woman gestured for her to sit. "Please, call me Amanda - Amanda Grayson. Our sons are friends."
Was that what it was called on Vulcan? The commodore sat down, and allowed herself to be served a glass of water. She tried to pace herself but still gulped down the liquid in mouthfuls, drained by the walk from the nearest transporter station and still weary after a packed morning spent in final debriefings before she sent off the Douglas to pick up her new captain.
The invitation to have lunch had come from Lady T'Pau two days ago, and arrived just as she'd wrapped up her tour of the Enterprise, her excuse to ambush Commander Spock. Winona thought about declining - the timing was awfully suspicious - but in the end it just wasn't worth possibly offending the Vulcan matriarch over a free lunch. It was pretty obvious to her though that 'lunch' was simply an euphemism for negotiations.
She had to admit, she was curious about the ambassador's wife; anyone who could get a good reference from the very intimidating Lady T'Pau was worth a meeting and the brief glimpses in passing at the hospital didn't tell her much. But as Winona studied the holographic menu that flickered over the tabletop, she rather wished this were a real negotiation, one with armed guards and obvious hostility. This whole business of having lunch together, disguising the tensions by watering it down with social niceties - she hated the whole damn idea of it.
There was nothing but vegetables and then more vegetables, so Winona picked the Mediterranean salad, a cold Vulcan spice tea and then regretted it immediately when she looked up to meet the other woman's gaze. She'd just given up her best excuse to continue ignoring the Lady Sarek. Her uncertainty threatened to freeze her like a first-year cadet before she shook it off by sheer will.
Across the table, Amanda Grayson looked on with dark curious eyes, so eerily similar to her son, Spock. Winona glanced at her ears, looking for points; the woman's ears were completely round.
"You know, I think Spock has a little crush on you."
Winona almost choked on air.
"Besides his demands that I bring every single education holovid from home that he possesses so he can show it off to James, his favorite topic right now is Starfleet. He insists that he's impressed with the engineering, the opportunities for scientific research, the academic rigors, and vehemently denies it as being anything but professional admiration, yet I'm pretty sure he's got a touch of hero worship."
Winona Kirk caught the twinkle in the other woman's eyes and couldn't help warming to Amanda Grayson even as her stomach twisted.
"It's nice to hear him enthuse about something - all too often, I'll ask him a million questions and get nothing but one word answers."
She knew what the woman was doing. She did it herself - connecting with her opponent on common ground. Winona supposed she could go along with the attempt to get the conversation rolling in an easy neutral direction, wait for it to lead to where they both knew it would - whether or not she'd give Jimmy up to be raised by strangers - but frankly she just didn't care.
"That can't have pleased the ambassador. Aren't Vulcans against violence?"
"Theoretically," Amanda Grayson deflected the implied insinuation easily, "but don't let the empty expanses of desert and over-developed cities fool you. Vulcan is a violent planet, with an equally violent past. Their education continues to stress tradition, which often includes the study and practice of martial arts and weapons. I can tell you, Commodore, those bouts are no joking matter. There's usually blood."
She'd heard about that; after all, she'd done her final year survival training here and studied Vulcan self-defense at the Academy. An awkward silence ensued, broken by the arrival of a young woman with their drinks. Amanda Grayson smiled at their server and thanked her. She smiled a lot, a lot more than one would expect from someone who had chosen to marry a Vulcan. Which, really, who the hell would choose to marry a Vulcan?
"There's a saying - when all rational solutions refuse to fit the available facts, then we seek an irrational solution that does. It gets repeated quite a bit, in all different variations."
"I think you mean; when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains,however improbable, must be the truth."
Amanda Grayson smile brightened if that was even possible, "Despite complaints about gross inaccuracies, they were Spock's favorite bedtime stories."
Winona tried to imagine a young Vulcan boy clamoring onto his bed and eagerly listening to bedtime stories about serial killers, violent criminals and one drug-addicted gentleman in late Victorian England. She could see why Jimmy would like the kid; he had taste.
"Spock believes in that saying, probably more than he should," Her host's smile waned, "After everything that's happened, he sees Vulcan education as 'inadequate preparation for the realities of the galaxy,' and he intends to remedy that immediately."
Winona swallowed thickly, a rush of hot emotion welling up at the thought of how much suffering had been endured to teach that harsh lesson. She reached for her glass of water, taking a long drink to try and ignore how much she could relate. For her as well, one could never be too prepared.
"If he wasn't under doctor's orders, I think he would be banging on your door to talk you into sponsoring him for the Starfleet Academy Entrance Exams."
She could imagine it. That determination was probably how he convinced Lady T'Pau to step in on his behalf and wear Winona down in a last ditch attempt to make her leave Jimmy on Vulcan.
"Starfleet would be lucky to have him," she said, and she meant it.
Despite how she felt about this weird situation, Starfleet wouldn't know what hit them if Spock took on the Academy. The boy was exceptionally bright and granted, Starfleet was full of bright kids, but the stubborn will to persevere against all odds, that was something else. She respected his inner strength, and if he were older, she might have been the one approaching him to enlist.
"Thank you," Amanda Grayson said with solemnity, "Thank you for bringing back my son. I know you're going to say that it's your duty, but let's be honest - what you do on a day to day basis, Winona, the risks that you take on, it's never just duty."
She shrugged, suddenly uncomfortable. It was difficult to continue seeing the woman as her opponent when she was proving herself to not only be intelligent but intuitive. If they had met under other circumstances, Winona had no difficulties imagining them as friends. There was a quiet assurance in Amanda Grayson she felt drawn to and reminded her strongly of Admiral Barnett.
"Your son kept my son alive."
"And vice versa," the woman paused, "Commodore- Winona, I know you must be concerned about what we're proposing. It is, I know, a very alien concept, and I had a hard time accepting it when Spock was pledged the first time around. But Vulcans are telepaths, and they have mental needs that can only be fulfilled by telepathic bonds."
Winona took a sip of water, trying to aim for calm composure. The bond wasn't something she really understood despite the many times it had been explained to her. It was like explaining the sky to the blind, she supposed. But she knew enough to understand its importance, the consequences of removing the spontaneous wild bond Jimmy had in his head. It had also been explained to her that a bond couldn't be used to coerce and Jimmy's bond with his new Vulcan friend could only thrive as it was due to mental compatibility and mutual affection. That last part, that was the important factor as far as she was concerned.
"I know, I've been briefed by Healer Sorel."
The woman smiled, but its brightness had dimmed. "It's a special thing among Vulcans, to find one who matches you so well."
Was it that way with you and the ambassador? Winona didn't ask.
As far as Jimmy was concerned, there was nothing strange about the bond. He barely felt its influence, and described it to her as a warm feeling, a sixth sense about Spock, his moods, if he was close or far away. Winona had half-expected Jimmy to demand he be allowed to stay with the ambassador's family on Vulcan, because surely Spock or the ambassador or someone would have told Jimmy about the request to formalize the bond. It's what she would have done - gone behind her back and asked the hormonally-addled teenage boy - but while Jimmy was steadfastly loyal to Spock, he never brought up the bond as an excuse to stay behind on Vulcan.
With suspiciously good timing, a waiter arrived with a new carafe of water and a large irregularly-shaped plate of what looked like bite-sized appetizers in the crook of his arm, resetting the mood at the table. Winona wondered if the man was telepathic.
"I hope you don't mind, but I ordered this to share." Amanda Grayson pushed the plate towards her, "It's very good, please try some."
Despite the fact that she wasn't really in the mood to eat, Winona forced herself to take a few.
"I know you must have questions."
Was there something in the Vulcan atmosphere that made everyone to speak in understatements?
"I've seen you in passing at the hospital but we've never really had an opportunity to talk."
She wondered if the woman was that naïve to not notice someone avoiding her, but then she caught the glint in Amanda Grayson's eyes. "It's hard for me just leaving Spock for a few weeks with relatives, people I know and trust, so I'm sure it's a tall ask for you to consider leaving Jimmy with us, for months and possibly years at a time. I usually send a video message twice a week during these trips and I would have no problems with organizing the same for James to keep in contact with you."
Actually, if Sam hadn't come home, Jimmy's disappearance would have probably gone unnoticed for weeks - regular calls weren't really her thing. Shit. Winona allowed herself to experience a moment of shame.
Anyone who didn't belong to the Fleet would have considered her decision to take such a faraway posting incomprehensible, even heartless; after all Jimmy needed a parent, someone to bug him to eat right and go to bed early, and coddle him when he sweated through painful sessions of physical therapy. She didn't expect Ambassador Sarek and his wife to understand her choice - people rarely did - but she had done her own tally and knew the score. With the third and seventh fleet decimated and several crucial outposts gone, Starfleet needed every experienced command officer they could get. Despite what Pike thought, her new commission was not a reward nor a bribe but a call to arms. She was going to the USS Monchezke to even the odds; after all, even a science vessel could put up a fight, if her captain knew how. This was for Jimmy, for Sam, even if no one else would see it that way.
Her host's gaze was gentle. "No one in my family has ever served in Starfleet, so I can't imagine the pressures that you and your crew go through as a matter of fact. That you managed to have a family at all, and raised a son as accomplished and good-natured as James - you have nothing to prove to anyone as far as I'm concerned."
"That's just luck," she dismissed, because it was true.
All of it - Jimmy's good looks, his smarts, his resilient bright personality and physical prowess - was sheer dumb luck, or as George would say, providence. There had been no guarantees that the good genes would be passed on second time around after Sam, but then there he was, a small wrinkled thing in the crook of her arm, with her father-in-law's startling crystalline eyes and her mother's dark blonde hair.
"I don't think you're giving yourself enough credit."
She ducked away from Amanda Grayson's searching look with a mirthless smile, because if the woman only knew...
"I've spent enough time with James to know that he has been raised to be articulate, knowledgeable, and compassionate. You should be proud of him."
Unease twisted in Winona's chest like a monster trying to crawl its way out. The woman was making it sound like she'd purposely set out to expand Jimmy's horizons when that wasn't the case at all. The more demanding of her two sons and the more curious, she'd given Jimmy every book and holovid he could want, enough to fill a library, and sent him on every excursion he was interested in, trying to distract him from noticing her absence. Whenever they talked, she'd filled their conversations with educational tidbits and random facts, often trying to get Jimmy to talk about his life on Earth, diverting their discussions away from her missions, her absence. For years, Jimmy believed that if he impressed her enough, she'd stay - and worst of all, she had let him believe it.
"I am," she said, finding it suddenly hard to breath as confusing emotions swelled in her chest.
She was proud, Winona realized, because her son was amazing, despite her failures. And Jimmy deserved to have people who gave a damn about him, who would notice if he went missing, who knew his favorite food.
Mouth dry, she looked up at the woman across the table from her, her doubts about Tarsus IV increasing exponentially.
Jimmy deserved to have Amanda Grayson make his favorite food, to have visitors everyday at his bedside, to be taken to exotic planets with the ambassador's family and attend one of the best schools in the Federation. She had spent sleepless nights back on the farm in Iowa, loathing herself - not because he was gone - but because she hadn't realized he was gone, and couldn't even say if he had gone off on his own because she didn't know who he was, barely remembered what he liked to eat much less what troubled him, what made him happy, what he aspired to become.
Amanda smiled, "Spock adores him."
Perhaps, but since it was an alien adoration that she had no frame of reference for, she didn't really care. She could only go with what she did understand, and the kid certainly knew more about her son than she did.
Chris was firmly of the opinion that Jimmy should return to Earth if Tarsus IV was no longer an option, and had even gone so far as to offer himself up as a foster parent. She'd declined, of course, because it didn't seem fair and Jimmy barely knew him. Since Jimmy had been pretty much running his own life for years, she'd considered making this his decision - but every time Winona tried asking him to make a choice, something inside of her rebelled.
Spock, the boy who had befriended him and saved his life, who could offer Jimmy a comfortable family life and the best educational opportunities this side of the Alpha Quadrant versus a grand-aunt and uncle he had never met before in a new colony off the beaten interstellar track? The choice seemed obvious, except she had needed to be sure of these people, that they would do right by Jimmy and weren't just doing taking her son in for the benefit of their own child.
Staring across the table at the other mother, Winona Kirk took a leap of faith.
"Actually, I wanted to meet you today because I've accepted a new commission and will leave day after tomorrow… I was going to arrange to send Jimmy to Tarsus IV after he was finished with mandatory therapy. I have an aunt and uncle there, and I've heard that the colony is doing well despite how young it is. But…I've spoken to a several people - and they seem to disagree." She breathed out, "I think they're right."
Amanda's expression never wavered as she refilled their water glasses, movements sedate and elegant, despite Winona watching her carefully for any signs of triumph. "Congratulations on the new commission. I'm sure Jimmy's proud."
She cleared her throat, "Yes."
Yes, he had been proud.
Was it terrible that she was slightly unsettled because he wasn't upset at her leaving? Being envious of a teenaged Vulcan boy who was sucking up all her son's attention and time made her feel silly.
Amanda smiled tentatively, "Then…?"
She smiled back, feeling like her old self as she wryly admitted, "Ah, I don't really know how to proceed but Admiral Perim is willing to lend me someone from her legal team to get Jimmy sorted for long-term residency on Vulcan."
Startled delight filled the woman's smile and the waiter appeared as though magically summoned, replacing dirtied plates and utensils before coming back with their mains. Feeling as though a literal weight had been overthrown, Winona dug into her salad and savored its tangy sweetness, letting it distract her from the heady sensation of being suddenly made lighter. Soon a new conversation began between the two women, starting with a discussion about the restaurant's food before shifting onto Jimmy's choices for school upon Vulcan, his medical needs, what a Starfleet career entailed for someone pursuing the Science track and Amanda Grayson's enduring love of roses.
28 continued here