Long Way Home part eight
Part Eight
As it turned out, Jim didn’t need to execute his stealthy plan of ninja skills into the medical bay. Bones slapped a hypo into his hand at the dinner mess the next day, calling him a damn fool (again) before stalking over to the replicators.
Jim slept straight through the night for once. He had the hypo until Meridian and their leave.
The whole trip had been quiet. Jim had Bones to himself for the time, alone at breakfast after the blow up at Uhura - not that he blamed her for avoiding him. Jim had gotten pretty nasty. Still, he didn’t understand why the woman had seemed so hesitant when she and Spock had rejoined them, the morning they were due to dock at Meridian.
“Captain,” Uhura said, sliding into the seat opposite of Jim. Spock slid in next to him. Bones rolled his eyes and muttered something into his cup.
“Uhura,” Jim chased a raspberry across his plate. “Spock.”
Uhura had her lower lip caught between her teeth. “Captain…Jim. I, I wanted to say - I didn’t -”
“Look, sorry I snapped,” Jim cut her off. He didn’t want to drag it all out again. In front of Bones and Spock, no less. “You have every right to think of me like,” he waved a hand. “Whatever. Obviously.”
Fire flashed in Uhura’s eyes. “I do not -”
“Look,” Jim cut in again. “Just…sorry, all right? Can we drop it?”
“Jim -”
“Please.”
Uhura slumped in her seat. “You’re not even listening -”
“Great, well, look at the time. Enjoy your breakfast,” Jim moved to get up. Spock’s hand on his wrist stopped him. The grip was strong, too strong for Jim to break without drawing undue attention to them.
God, not again. Didn’t he apologize? Jesus. It would be fine if they just forgot about it. People thought what they liked about Jim - the rumors were always true, he’d been told. Jim had stropped trying to correct them, even if they were false, long ago.
“I believe Nyota is trying to communicate with you on a matter that is important to her,” Spock said.
“Spock. Relax. It’s fine. All sorted out.”
“Jim, let the lady say her piece,” McCoy said, studiously ignoring them all in favor of the bottom of his coffee cup.
“Fine,” Jim slumped back into his seat. “Lay it out, then.”
Uhura glanced between them. Jim jiggled his wrist, but Spock’s hold wasn’t budging. “I just wanted to say,” Uhura began. “I didn’t know Gaila was your…friend. I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions. I - the rumors about you -”
“You believed them?” Bones was the one to speak. Jim yanked his hand, but Spock still held on. Goddamn Vulcans.
“I met Jim at a bar,” Uhura frowned at McCoy. “He hit on me! He - everyone knows he sleeps with -”
“You don’t know the first damn thing about Jim,” Bones leveled a finger at Uhura. “You let the rumors do all the talking, then the hobgoblin over there eats babies for breakfast, I prefer to do surgery on patients without anesthesia to hear them scream and you,” he raised his eyebrows, “you fucked your way up the academic latter to score an officer placement.”
“Bones,” Jim elbowed his friend. “Jesus. Be nice. Everyone knows all that’s just talk. Stupid, jealous talk.”
“You - you miserable -” Uhura said.
“He’s an asshole sometimes, sorry,” Jim kicked Bones on the ankle. “Apologize.”
“Not until she apologizes first.”
“Bones…”
“And not to me.”
Jim stared at him. “Then there’s no one to apologize to.”
“You…” Uhura was staring at Jim.
God. His life. So hard. “Look, rumors, whatever. People like to talk. Who cares,” he waved his free hand in the air. “I stopped giving a fuck years ago. Would you let go?” Jim tugged at Spock’s hold.
“If I were to let go, then there is a much higher likelihood that you would use the chance to retreat,” Spock said.
Jim glared. “I never retreat.”
Spock conceded a nod. “A strategic fall back position.”
“You are all so weird.”
“Jim,” Uhura said.
“Oh my god,” Jim sighed. “It’s like being in high school again, complete with the cool crowd talking shit and spreading rumors.” He rolled his eyes. “Let. It. Go. Jesus. I’m not some damn baby whose feelings need to be soothed everyone somebody says something mean. I learned that lesson a long time ago. Now, drop it.”
“Jim,” Bones turned to him.
“All I want is to dock with Meridian and have leave,” Jim managed to wiggle his hand free from Spock’s loosened hold.
“You are taking leave?” Spock asked.
“Yeah,” Jim gathered up his tray. “I’ll see you on the bridge,” he snapped at them. It would be his luck to be settled with the weirdest damn crew in the Fleet. God, he couldn’t wait for the end of his shift.
Meridian Station was a grid station that ringed a binary star. It was huge; the flat plazas and promenades divided it into four quadrants; one section for Federation personnel, one for Klingon, one for Romulan and one section served as a free for all zone where the merchants plied their wares and the seedier bars were located.
Jim vowed he would explore that area later. First, he had an apartment to find.
The Federation section was clean, if old and the technology out of date. Meridian Station was on the loop of spacer merchant lines that went from station to station. Not a lot of the newer supplies made it out that far into the neutral zone; most of the new tech was snapped up in the inner core of Federation planets. The outer stations had to make due with the dregs and the leftovers.
Which was how the news from the inner parts of Federation space had yet to reach Meridian. Meridian didn’t have the latest in comwarp technology that the inner stations and planets used to flash information from place to place. All the better for Jim, since that meant he didn’t have to deal with the stares and the insistent questions from reporters. Ships from every part of space were welcome at Meridian. New ships brought the newest news and gossip, which had gotten the Enterprise a few new parts before on good will alone.
Apartment 271, blue section, level four. Jim stood in front of the door for a long moment. It wasn’t familiar, but the curve of the hall tickled something in his memory, something about the blue-skinned woman…
“James Kirk?” A female voice said from behind him. Jim turned.
“I remember you,” Jim blurted out.
The woman laughed, her four arms settling on her hips. “I would hope so, Captain Kirk. I took care of you for two years!”
“Namia,” Jim felt the name on his lips.
She laughed again. “Ramnamia,” she said. “You would lisp the first part so bad you dropped it.”
Jim felt his face flush. “Sorry.”
“No, no,” her smile was fond. “Please use Namia. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard it.”
Jim took a step towards her. “I - I remember, a little.” He gestured at the door behind him. “I mean, I figured I’d come back some day, but…” He shrugged.
“Come, please,” she came and hooked two of her arms with his. “Do you remember the play room? Oh, I have to show you my pictures.”
“You have pictures?”
“Oh, yes,” she laughed again. Jim shelved the idea of going bar hopping. There were pictures.
Jim was on the floor, crawling with children when his senior staff found him.
The play area brought no memories for Jim, but the kitchen did, which Namia verified. She had laughed and said that Jim had liked to follow her around the play center, never letting her out of his sight for long, even when she was making lunch.
Namia took care of all of the children in level four, blue sector. The day care wasn’t a large place; it looked like two living spaces connected together. A play area took up one room. Jim sat in the center of it, two human kids on his lap, one many-limbed blue skinned girl clinging to his arm and another child draped over his back. His one free arm waved through the air as Jim recounted the grand tale of Luke the Jedi to the rest of the gathered children, who were clustered in front of him.
All the kids cheered at Jim’s roar of the Death Star exploding. A laugh made him turn. Uhura, Spock and McCoy were at the door to the playroom, along with Namia, who had a camera in her hands.
“Aw, man,” Jim could feel his face heat.
“More, more!” The girl on his arm cried.
“Tell us more!”
“Oh, please!”
“I’m sorry, children,” Namia said, stepping forward. “But it is shift change. Your parents are waiting.”
“Sorry,” Jim said as the kids stampeded past him. One of the boys stopped to give him a hug, catching Jim unawares. Jim winced - the kid had a hell of a grip - and patted the boy on his back.
“No, thank you,” Namia said as the last kid scampered past her. “They do so enjoy stories. Much like you.”
“Jim?” Bones said.
“Uh,” Jim ran a hand across the back of his neck. “This is Namia. Ramnamia. She, uh. Used to take care of me.”
“Come. I’ve made dinner,” Namia shooed Jim to his feet and herded him to the door.
“I really shouldn’t impose…”
“Nonsense, Jim. I made your favorite. At least,” she faltered. “It was your favorite.”
“The peanut butter noodles?” Memory sparked.
“You remember!”
“I’m definitely staying for dinner, then,” Jim hesitated, looking to the others.
“Your friends are welcome as well.”
“They’re my -,” Jim blinked at the falling expression on Uhura’s face. “Uh. This is Lieutenant Uhura, Dr. McCoy and my first officer, Mr. Spock.”
“Call me Bones,” said the man himself. “It’s what Jim always calls me.”
“This way, please,” Namia beamed a smile at them as she led them into a small dining area.
“You babysat this guy, then?” Bones asked after Namia had brought out their plates.
“Oh, James stayed here often,” Namia said.
“Yep. The blue couch with the green blanket,” Jim rolled up a forkful of sticky noodles. “I haven’t had this since I left. Man, I missed it.”
“I’ll give you the recipe,” Namia said, eyes bright.
“You…stayed here?” Spock asked.
“James’ mother was a…driven woman,” Namia said, eyes on her plate. “Her scouting trips would take her away for days at a time.”
“A kind gesture for your family to accept the captain into your household,” Spock raised an eyebrow.
Jim swung a kick at the Vulcan’s shins and missed.
“Oh, it was just James and I,” Namia said. “I had him for two years. I am very glad you remembered me,” she added, voice soft.
“I remember begging Mom to come back,” Jim nodded. “She got pretty - well, we were at the homestead with Sam by then and she had met Frank,” he slurped up a forkful of noodles.
“Is she…well?”
“As well as can be expected,” Jim shrugged. “Frank, her husband, beat a kid to death. She blamed it all on me and leaked my health records in an attempt to get the Admirals to put pressure on me to ‘fix’ the situation.” Jim licked his fork. “I’m pretty sure she’s going to try and disinherit me the next time I’m near Earth. Sam seems to think so, too. Of course,” Jim squinted at his plate. “He’s always been pissed about the whole two years Mom left him on Earth, so I don’t know.”
Jim glanced up as the silence stretched out. “What?”
“I see,” Namia said.
Jim blinked. “Did the news already get here?’
“No,” Namia patted her lips with a napkin. “I believe I should have fought your mother harder on custody.”
Jim leaned back in his chair. “What?”
“I had filed for guardianship for you,” Namia pushed her plate away. “Your mother did not react…well.”
“Huh. Is that how I broke my arm?”
Heads swung towards him.
“Yes,” Namia said.
“Yeah. She was pretty pissed,” Jim agreed. “But it all worked out in the end, right? I mean, I got to come back. As a captain!” Jim still took delight from the fact. “Hey, you want to come see the ship?” Jim glanced at Spock and Uhura. “We have another day at dock here. You could come on a tour!” He turned his best eyes on her, then on Spock and Uhura for good measure. Bones was immune, or so he claimed.
“A tour could be arranged,” Spock said.
“I would love to come,” Namia said, a wide, delighted smile on her face.
Part Nine
As it turned out, Jim didn’t need to execute his stealthy plan of ninja skills into the medical bay. Bones slapped a hypo into his hand at the dinner mess the next day, calling him a damn fool (again) before stalking over to the replicators.
Jim slept straight through the night for once. He had the hypo until Meridian and their leave.
The whole trip had been quiet. Jim had Bones to himself for the time, alone at breakfast after the blow up at Uhura - not that he blamed her for avoiding him. Jim had gotten pretty nasty. Still, he didn’t understand why the woman had seemed so hesitant when she and Spock had rejoined them, the morning they were due to dock at Meridian.
“Captain,” Uhura said, sliding into the seat opposite of Jim. Spock slid in next to him. Bones rolled his eyes and muttered something into his cup.
“Uhura,” Jim chased a raspberry across his plate. “Spock.”
Uhura had her lower lip caught between her teeth. “Captain…Jim. I, I wanted to say - I didn’t -”
“Look, sorry I snapped,” Jim cut her off. He didn’t want to drag it all out again. In front of Bones and Spock, no less. “You have every right to think of me like,” he waved a hand. “Whatever. Obviously.”
Fire flashed in Uhura’s eyes. “I do not -”
“Look,” Jim cut in again. “Just…sorry, all right? Can we drop it?”
“Jim -”
“Please.”
Uhura slumped in her seat. “You’re not even listening -”
“Great, well, look at the time. Enjoy your breakfast,” Jim moved to get up. Spock’s hand on his wrist stopped him. The grip was strong, too strong for Jim to break without drawing undue attention to them.
God, not again. Didn’t he apologize? Jesus. It would be fine if they just forgot about it. People thought what they liked about Jim - the rumors were always true, he’d been told. Jim had stropped trying to correct them, even if they were false, long ago.
“I believe Nyota is trying to communicate with you on a matter that is important to her,” Spock said.
“Spock. Relax. It’s fine. All sorted out.”
“Jim, let the lady say her piece,” McCoy said, studiously ignoring them all in favor of the bottom of his coffee cup.
“Fine,” Jim slumped back into his seat. “Lay it out, then.”
Uhura glanced between them. Jim jiggled his wrist, but Spock’s hold wasn’t budging. “I just wanted to say,” Uhura began. “I didn’t know Gaila was your…friend. I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions. I - the rumors about you -”
“You believed them?” Bones was the one to speak. Jim yanked his hand, but Spock still held on. Goddamn Vulcans.
“I met Jim at a bar,” Uhura frowned at McCoy. “He hit on me! He - everyone knows he sleeps with -”
“You don’t know the first damn thing about Jim,” Bones leveled a finger at Uhura. “You let the rumors do all the talking, then the hobgoblin over there eats babies for breakfast, I prefer to do surgery on patients without anesthesia to hear them scream and you,” he raised his eyebrows, “you fucked your way up the academic latter to score an officer placement.”
“Bones,” Jim elbowed his friend. “Jesus. Be nice. Everyone knows all that’s just talk. Stupid, jealous talk.”
“You - you miserable -” Uhura said.
“He’s an asshole sometimes, sorry,” Jim kicked Bones on the ankle. “Apologize.”
“Not until she apologizes first.”
“Bones…”
“And not to me.”
Jim stared at him. “Then there’s no one to apologize to.”
“You…” Uhura was staring at Jim.
God. His life. So hard. “Look, rumors, whatever. People like to talk. Who cares,” he waved his free hand in the air. “I stopped giving a fuck years ago. Would you let go?” Jim tugged at Spock’s hold.
“If I were to let go, then there is a much higher likelihood that you would use the chance to retreat,” Spock said.
Jim glared. “I never retreat.”
Spock conceded a nod. “A strategic fall back position.”
“You are all so weird.”
“Jim,” Uhura said.
“Oh my god,” Jim sighed. “It’s like being in high school again, complete with the cool crowd talking shit and spreading rumors.” He rolled his eyes. “Let. It. Go. Jesus. I’m not some damn baby whose feelings need to be soothed everyone somebody says something mean. I learned that lesson a long time ago. Now, drop it.”
“Jim,” Bones turned to him.
“All I want is to dock with Meridian and have leave,” Jim managed to wiggle his hand free from Spock’s loosened hold.
“You are taking leave?” Spock asked.
“Yeah,” Jim gathered up his tray. “I’ll see you on the bridge,” he snapped at them. It would be his luck to be settled with the weirdest damn crew in the Fleet. God, he couldn’t wait for the end of his shift.
Meridian Station was a grid station that ringed a binary star. It was huge; the flat plazas and promenades divided it into four quadrants; one section for Federation personnel, one for Klingon, one for Romulan and one section served as a free for all zone where the merchants plied their wares and the seedier bars were located.
Jim vowed he would explore that area later. First, he had an apartment to find.
The Federation section was clean, if old and the technology out of date. Meridian Station was on the loop of spacer merchant lines that went from station to station. Not a lot of the newer supplies made it out that far into the neutral zone; most of the new tech was snapped up in the inner core of Federation planets. The outer stations had to make due with the dregs and the leftovers.
Which was how the news from the inner parts of Federation space had yet to reach Meridian. Meridian didn’t have the latest in comwarp technology that the inner stations and planets used to flash information from place to place. All the better for Jim, since that meant he didn’t have to deal with the stares and the insistent questions from reporters. Ships from every part of space were welcome at Meridian. New ships brought the newest news and gossip, which had gotten the Enterprise a few new parts before on good will alone.
Apartment 271, blue section, level four. Jim stood in front of the door for a long moment. It wasn’t familiar, but the curve of the hall tickled something in his memory, something about the blue-skinned woman…
“James Kirk?” A female voice said from behind him. Jim turned.
“I remember you,” Jim blurted out.
The woman laughed, her four arms settling on her hips. “I would hope so, Captain Kirk. I took care of you for two years!”
“Namia,” Jim felt the name on his lips.
She laughed again. “Ramnamia,” she said. “You would lisp the first part so bad you dropped it.”
Jim felt his face flush. “Sorry.”
“No, no,” her smile was fond. “Please use Namia. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard it.”
Jim took a step towards her. “I - I remember, a little.” He gestured at the door behind him. “I mean, I figured I’d come back some day, but…” He shrugged.
“Come, please,” she came and hooked two of her arms with his. “Do you remember the play room? Oh, I have to show you my pictures.”
“You have pictures?”
“Oh, yes,” she laughed again. Jim shelved the idea of going bar hopping. There were pictures.
Jim was on the floor, crawling with children when his senior staff found him.
The play area brought no memories for Jim, but the kitchen did, which Namia verified. She had laughed and said that Jim had liked to follow her around the play center, never letting her out of his sight for long, even when she was making lunch.
Namia took care of all of the children in level four, blue sector. The day care wasn’t a large place; it looked like two living spaces connected together. A play area took up one room. Jim sat in the center of it, two human kids on his lap, one many-limbed blue skinned girl clinging to his arm and another child draped over his back. His one free arm waved through the air as Jim recounted the grand tale of Luke the Jedi to the rest of the gathered children, who were clustered in front of him.
All the kids cheered at Jim’s roar of the Death Star exploding. A laugh made him turn. Uhura, Spock and McCoy were at the door to the playroom, along with Namia, who had a camera in her hands.
“Aw, man,” Jim could feel his face heat.
“More, more!” The girl on his arm cried.
“Tell us more!”
“Oh, please!”
“I’m sorry, children,” Namia said, stepping forward. “But it is shift change. Your parents are waiting.”
“Sorry,” Jim said as the kids stampeded past him. One of the boys stopped to give him a hug, catching Jim unawares. Jim winced - the kid had a hell of a grip - and patted the boy on his back.
“No, thank you,” Namia said as the last kid scampered past her. “They do so enjoy stories. Much like you.”
“Jim?” Bones said.
“Uh,” Jim ran a hand across the back of his neck. “This is Namia. Ramnamia. She, uh. Used to take care of me.”
“Come. I’ve made dinner,” Namia shooed Jim to his feet and herded him to the door.
“I really shouldn’t impose…”
“Nonsense, Jim. I made your favorite. At least,” she faltered. “It was your favorite.”
“The peanut butter noodles?” Memory sparked.
“You remember!”
“I’m definitely staying for dinner, then,” Jim hesitated, looking to the others.
“Your friends are welcome as well.”
“They’re my -,” Jim blinked at the falling expression on Uhura’s face. “Uh. This is Lieutenant Uhura, Dr. McCoy and my first officer, Mr. Spock.”
“Call me Bones,” said the man himself. “It’s what Jim always calls me.”
“This way, please,” Namia beamed a smile at them as she led them into a small dining area.
“You babysat this guy, then?” Bones asked after Namia had brought out their plates.
“Oh, James stayed here often,” Namia said.
“Yep. The blue couch with the green blanket,” Jim rolled up a forkful of sticky noodles. “I haven’t had this since I left. Man, I missed it.”
“I’ll give you the recipe,” Namia said, eyes bright.
“You…stayed here?” Spock asked.
“James’ mother was a…driven woman,” Namia said, eyes on her plate. “Her scouting trips would take her away for days at a time.”
“A kind gesture for your family to accept the captain into your household,” Spock raised an eyebrow.
Jim swung a kick at the Vulcan’s shins and missed.
“Oh, it was just James and I,” Namia said. “I had him for two years. I am very glad you remembered me,” she added, voice soft.
“I remember begging Mom to come back,” Jim nodded. “She got pretty - well, we were at the homestead with Sam by then and she had met Frank,” he slurped up a forkful of noodles.
“Is she…well?”
“As well as can be expected,” Jim shrugged. “Frank, her husband, beat a kid to death. She blamed it all on me and leaked my health records in an attempt to get the Admirals to put pressure on me to ‘fix’ the situation.” Jim licked his fork. “I’m pretty sure she’s going to try and disinherit me the next time I’m near Earth. Sam seems to think so, too. Of course,” Jim squinted at his plate. “He’s always been pissed about the whole two years Mom left him on Earth, so I don’t know.”
Jim glanced up as the silence stretched out. “What?”
“I see,” Namia said.
Jim blinked. “Did the news already get here?’
“No,” Namia patted her lips with a napkin. “I believe I should have fought your mother harder on custody.”
Jim leaned back in his chair. “What?”
“I had filed for guardianship for you,” Namia pushed her plate away. “Your mother did not react…well.”
“Huh. Is that how I broke my arm?”
Heads swung towards him.
“Yes,” Namia said.
“Yeah. She was pretty pissed,” Jim agreed. “But it all worked out in the end, right? I mean, I got to come back. As a captain!” Jim still took delight from the fact. “Hey, you want to come see the ship?” Jim glanced at Spock and Uhura. “We have another day at dock here. You could come on a tour!” He turned his best eyes on her, then on Spock and Uhura for good measure. Bones was immune, or so he claimed.
“A tour could be arranged,” Spock said.
“I would love to come,” Namia said, a wide, delighted smile on her face.
Part Nine