fic: These Are the Arms You Fell Into (Star Trek AOS)
Title: These Are the Arms You Fell Into
Fandom: Star Trek AOS
Rating: all ages
Characters: Joanna, Jim (background Kirk/McCoy)
Notes: Written for saavikam77's fandom_stocking. This could be read as a follow-up to Let It Shine or independently. 1,300 words.
Summary: Joanna didn't always like Jim or his influence on her dad. After eight years, though, she's come around.
“You know,” Joanna says in a low voice, addressing her glass instead of Jim, “I really didn’t like you when I first met you.” She takes a quick sip of sweet tea.
“I get that a lot,” says Jim, sounding half-apologetic.
Joanna swallows. “’Cause you took my dad away. I mean, he went with you on the Enterprise instead of taking a job at a hospital on Earth, or a research facility. I know he could’ve. But he went with you.” She pauses, tracing the base of her glass with her index finger. Without looking up, she knows he’s watching her, his brow pinched with concern. She continues hurriedly, “Not that I would’ve seen him much if he had stayed on Earth, ‘cause of the divorce. But blaming you was a lot easier than blaming my parents.”
There’s an awkward beat. Then she takes a deep breath and lifts her head.
To her surprise, he isn’t looking at her. He’s still leaning against the doorjamb, his arms folded over his chest, but he’s peering into the living room, where her dad is still asleep on the sofa, his cheek pillowed by the heel of his palm. The movie is still playing on the monitor and it casts a ghostly light across her dad’s relaxed features, making the shadows of his lashes appear longer, the curve of his frown deeper.
Joanna looks back at Jim. He’s smiling, and it’s such a private smile that she blushes and lowers her eyes back to her glass.
“I like you now.” The inadequacy of her words makes her stomach hurt, but that’s the best she has to offer right now. The truth is, she hated him for a while. Her friends thought she was crazy; how could anyone hate gorgeous, daring Captain Kirk? They didn’t get it. They thought it was awesome that her dad got to follow him from star to star, and they scoffed when she insisted that Kirk was ugly, stupid, and mean.
He’s none of those things, of course. It took her a while - until she was about thirteen, actually - but she finally figured it out. He isn’t ugly, despite the scars and the big forehead she liked to point out to her friends. He’s actually kind of a genius, which she sort of knew all along, from press conferences and the way her dad used to describe him. As for mean…
He isn’t mean at all, even though he’s taking her dad back into space with him after their shore leave is over. The desire to keep on hating him burns in Joanna’s chest, but she can’t, not after spending the weekend with him and her dad, and seeing the way they really are together. She just can’t.
She lifts her glass to take another sip and realizes with a start that Jim has turned to look at her. She lowers the glass so quickly that the ice cubes rattle and some of the tea almost sloshes over the rim. Embarrassed, she chews at her lower lip.
“I like you too,” Jim says quietly. “I liked you when you were little and threw crayons at my head, and I like you now that we can have conversations about quantum physics.” He hugs his arms a little more tightly, like he’s cold or hiding a wound or something. “Your dad loves you more than anything, you know.”
“I know.” It’s funny, but in the eight years since her parents split up and her dad left Georgia, that’s maybe the one thing she’s never doubted.
She isn’t going to have any more tea, she decides, and walks over to the sink to set her glass down. She doesn’t hear him push away from the doorjamb, but suddenly he’s right behind her, not quite in her personal space, but close. Her fingers curl around the edge of the sink. “He needs you,” she mutters. “I know.”
“I need him,” Jim says. “Look, Jo… I want you to know, I didn’t ask him to come back with me for a second tour. I didn’t try to pressure him.”
There’s pain in his voice, and deep uncertainty. It’s bizarre, coming from him. She understands, of course; he wants her to know the truth, but he’s worried she’ll be angry with her dad. And maybe she should be. Maybe, after all these years, she should be really intensely angry with him.
But the truth is, she’s almost fifteen, and, as much as she loves her dad, she’s gotten used to loving him from a distance. Having him here in Atlanta for the week between Christmas and New Year’s has been kind of magical, but it’s been weird too, almost unreal. And anyway, she’s seen how he is around Jim, how they are around each other. They love each other. And yeah, maybe her dad does love her more, but he needs Jim. That’s just how it is.
“Hey.” Jim nudges her elbow gently.
“Just you take good care of him,” Joanna says, turning around to fix him with a fierce glare. “Okay? Don’t you let anything bad happen to him, ever, ‘cause if you do…”
“I made a promise once,” Jim says seriously. “I intend to keep it.”
“You better.”
“I will.”
When he first made that promise to her, she was nine years old, and she believed him. Despite being ugly, stupid, and mean, he’d just saved the entire Earth, and if he could do that, he could surely keep her dad safe in space. Now she knows better. Things happen that nobody can control, not even Captain Kirk. From some of the looks that he and her dad give each other, Joanna guesses that a lot has happened that maybe she’s better off not knowing about.
But the thing is, Jim means it when he says he intends to keep his promise. She can tell from the way his face goes pale and his eyes burn like blue flames, and that’s why she wraps her arms around him and hugs him tight - because he means it with all his heart.
“Jo,” he sort of squeaks. And then he’s patting her hair awkwardly, hugging her back.
She holds onto him for maybe half a minute. Then she lowers her arms and steps back. She is most definitely not sniffling.
“C’mon,” Jim says. “We should go wake your dad up. He’ll be annoyed if he misses the ending of his movie.”
“Which he’s only seen about a thousand times,” Joanna retorts with a snort of laughter.
“You know Bones.”
They smile at each other. Understanding passes between them, and Joanna nods. “Yeah, all right.”
Jim gestures for her to precede him into the living room. “Ladies first,” he says gallantly.
“Uh, no. You’re the one with the Medal of Valor or whatever. You wake him up.”
“It’s the Medal of Honor, and I don’t care. I want to survive my vacation.”
He’s teasing her now, but she doesn’t mind. It feels kind of good, actually, like they’ve gotten past some invisible barrier. As she opens her mouth for a comeback, her dad growls from the living room, “I’m awake, damnit. You can quit plotting your sneak attack and come join me. This is the best part, anyway.”
So Joanna walks into the living room and sits down on the sofa next to her dad, who’s pushed himself up against the cushions. She links her arm with his and rests her head against his shoulder. She feels his lips brush her forehead, and squeezes his arm tightly.
When Jim joins them a few seconds later, Joanna assumes he’ll take his place on her dad’s other side. Instead, he sits down next to her, draping his arm along the back of the sofa so it’s almost like he’s gathering them both into his embrace.
And Joanna is totally okay with that.
1/6/2011
Fandom: Star Trek AOS
Rating: all ages
Characters: Joanna, Jim (background Kirk/McCoy)
Notes: Written for saavikam77's fandom_stocking. This could be read as a follow-up to Let It Shine or independently. 1,300 words.
Summary: Joanna didn't always like Jim or his influence on her dad. After eight years, though, she's come around.
“You know,” Joanna says in a low voice, addressing her glass instead of Jim, “I really didn’t like you when I first met you.” She takes a quick sip of sweet tea.
“I get that a lot,” says Jim, sounding half-apologetic.
Joanna swallows. “’Cause you took my dad away. I mean, he went with you on the Enterprise instead of taking a job at a hospital on Earth, or a research facility. I know he could’ve. But he went with you.” She pauses, tracing the base of her glass with her index finger. Without looking up, she knows he’s watching her, his brow pinched with concern. She continues hurriedly, “Not that I would’ve seen him much if he had stayed on Earth, ‘cause of the divorce. But blaming you was a lot easier than blaming my parents.”
There’s an awkward beat. Then she takes a deep breath and lifts her head.
To her surprise, he isn’t looking at her. He’s still leaning against the doorjamb, his arms folded over his chest, but he’s peering into the living room, where her dad is still asleep on the sofa, his cheek pillowed by the heel of his palm. The movie is still playing on the monitor and it casts a ghostly light across her dad’s relaxed features, making the shadows of his lashes appear longer, the curve of his frown deeper.
Joanna looks back at Jim. He’s smiling, and it’s such a private smile that she blushes and lowers her eyes back to her glass.
“I like you now.” The inadequacy of her words makes her stomach hurt, but that’s the best she has to offer right now. The truth is, she hated him for a while. Her friends thought she was crazy; how could anyone hate gorgeous, daring Captain Kirk? They didn’t get it. They thought it was awesome that her dad got to follow him from star to star, and they scoffed when she insisted that Kirk was ugly, stupid, and mean.
He’s none of those things, of course. It took her a while - until she was about thirteen, actually - but she finally figured it out. He isn’t ugly, despite the scars and the big forehead she liked to point out to her friends. He’s actually kind of a genius, which she sort of knew all along, from press conferences and the way her dad used to describe him. As for mean…
He isn’t mean at all, even though he’s taking her dad back into space with him after their shore leave is over. The desire to keep on hating him burns in Joanna’s chest, but she can’t, not after spending the weekend with him and her dad, and seeing the way they really are together. She just can’t.
She lifts her glass to take another sip and realizes with a start that Jim has turned to look at her. She lowers the glass so quickly that the ice cubes rattle and some of the tea almost sloshes over the rim. Embarrassed, she chews at her lower lip.
“I like you too,” Jim says quietly. “I liked you when you were little and threw crayons at my head, and I like you now that we can have conversations about quantum physics.” He hugs his arms a little more tightly, like he’s cold or hiding a wound or something. “Your dad loves you more than anything, you know.”
“I know.” It’s funny, but in the eight years since her parents split up and her dad left Georgia, that’s maybe the one thing she’s never doubted.
She isn’t going to have any more tea, she decides, and walks over to the sink to set her glass down. She doesn’t hear him push away from the doorjamb, but suddenly he’s right behind her, not quite in her personal space, but close. Her fingers curl around the edge of the sink. “He needs you,” she mutters. “I know.”
“I need him,” Jim says. “Look, Jo… I want you to know, I didn’t ask him to come back with me for a second tour. I didn’t try to pressure him.”
There’s pain in his voice, and deep uncertainty. It’s bizarre, coming from him. She understands, of course; he wants her to know the truth, but he’s worried she’ll be angry with her dad. And maybe she should be. Maybe, after all these years, she should be really intensely angry with him.
But the truth is, she’s almost fifteen, and, as much as she loves her dad, she’s gotten used to loving him from a distance. Having him here in Atlanta for the week between Christmas and New Year’s has been kind of magical, but it’s been weird too, almost unreal. And anyway, she’s seen how he is around Jim, how they are around each other. They love each other. And yeah, maybe her dad does love her more, but he needs Jim. That’s just how it is.
“Hey.” Jim nudges her elbow gently.
“Just you take good care of him,” Joanna says, turning around to fix him with a fierce glare. “Okay? Don’t you let anything bad happen to him, ever, ‘cause if you do…”
“I made a promise once,” Jim says seriously. “I intend to keep it.”
“You better.”
“I will.”
When he first made that promise to her, she was nine years old, and she believed him. Despite being ugly, stupid, and mean, he’d just saved the entire Earth, and if he could do that, he could surely keep her dad safe in space. Now she knows better. Things happen that nobody can control, not even Captain Kirk. From some of the looks that he and her dad give each other, Joanna guesses that a lot has happened that maybe she’s better off not knowing about.
But the thing is, Jim means it when he says he intends to keep his promise. She can tell from the way his face goes pale and his eyes burn like blue flames, and that’s why she wraps her arms around him and hugs him tight - because he means it with all his heart.
“Jo,” he sort of squeaks. And then he’s patting her hair awkwardly, hugging her back.
She holds onto him for maybe half a minute. Then she lowers her arms and steps back. She is most definitely not sniffling.
“C’mon,” Jim says. “We should go wake your dad up. He’ll be annoyed if he misses the ending of his movie.”
“Which he’s only seen about a thousand times,” Joanna retorts with a snort of laughter.
“You know Bones.”
They smile at each other. Understanding passes between them, and Joanna nods. “Yeah, all right.”
Jim gestures for her to precede him into the living room. “Ladies first,” he says gallantly.
“Uh, no. You’re the one with the Medal of Valor or whatever. You wake him up.”
“It’s the Medal of Honor, and I don’t care. I want to survive my vacation.”
He’s teasing her now, but she doesn’t mind. It feels kind of good, actually, like they’ve gotten past some invisible barrier. As she opens her mouth for a comeback, her dad growls from the living room, “I’m awake, damnit. You can quit plotting your sneak attack and come join me. This is the best part, anyway.”
So Joanna walks into the living room and sits down on the sofa next to her dad, who’s pushed himself up against the cushions. She links her arm with his and rests her head against his shoulder. She feels his lips brush her forehead, and squeezes his arm tightly.
When Jim joins them a few seconds later, Joanna assumes he’ll take his place on her dad’s other side. Instead, he sits down next to her, draping his arm along the back of the sofa so it’s almost like he’s gathering them both into his embrace.
And Joanna is totally okay with that.
1/6/2011