New fic: "Unsung" Star Trek; Winona Kirk, Jim Kirk
Fandom: Star Trek 2009
Title: Unsung
Characters: Winona Kirk, Jim Kirk
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1516
Summary: For twenty-five years Winona Kirk is too damn busy to waste time crying.
Author's note: Written for the Where no Woman Has Drabbled Before challenge at where_no_woman for the prompt "Winona, unsung" and it grew into something a little longer than a drabble.
Fifteen minutes after the Kelvin, Winona thanks God that George Jr. was in Iowa with his Grandmother. She dries her tears, and resolves not to let them come back. She's too damn busy to waste time crying.
Nineteen months after the Kelvin Winona is the guest of honor at the ribbon-cutting ceremony for the new Riverside Shipyard in Iowa. She plays her role and smiles at the crowd with a toddler on her hip and a five-year-old clutching her leg. Once the guests at the reception start to disperse she turns the boys over to Grammy Kirk and goes to talk to Captain Jones, the Shipyard's commanding officer.
"So good to have you here, Mrs. Kirk. If there's anything I or my officers can ever do for you and the boys--"
"Yeah." She puts her hands on her hips and locks his eyes with hers. "You can give me a job."
He starts to stammer and she cuts him off again. "Starfleet granted me a two year leave of absence, but I'm itching to get back to work. I'm a damn fine engineer, and I'll be an asset to your team. I'll get you my resumé first thing in the morning. I'd like to start work next week, if possible."
She fends off every excuse he musters, and he finally ends with a weak, pleading argument. "But, you were a ship's officer. Don't you want to go back to that?"
"No." She shakes her head vehemently. "I'm never going back out there. Never."
She starts work five days later.
Nine years after the Kelvin she sits staring incredulously at the face of the young officer on her communications console.
"So," she says, "let me get this straight, Ensign Pike. You want to come out here and spend a few days dredging up all my memories of the day my husband died, just so you can put a more personal touch into your dissertation."
The young officer looks taken aback. "Well…Lieutenant…that's not exactly how I see it."
She shakes her head in disgust. "Find someone else to tell you their tales of glory and tragedy, Ensign. I've got a shipyard to run and a family to raise. I just don't have the time."
She punches the button to end the communication. When he tries to call again four days later, she doesn't even bother to answer.
Thirteen years after the Kelvin, Winona is just finishing her eight-month stint as a consultant on the construction of the new Utopia Planitia Fleet Yards on Mars when she gets an urgent subspace communication from Grammy Kirk. George has run away from home, and Jim is in jail.
Winona tells Grammy Kirk to try all of George's friends, listing their names, addresses, and communication codes from memory.
"And what about Jim?" asks Grammy. "Will you transfer me the credits to bail him out?"
Winona's lips are tight. "I think I'll talk to him, first."
The sheriff is good enough to let Jim take the subspace call from his mother.
As she expected, Jim is ready with an excuse. "He was going to sell Dad's car! I had to take it!"
"And you had to drive it off a cliff?"
He doesn't have an answer for that one. Winona decides to cut through the crap. "Has Frank ever hit you? Did he ever hit George?"
Jim stares at her silently for a minute before frowning and nodding.
"How long has Frank been treating you like this?"
Jim looks away from her. "A long time."
Winona takes a long, deep breath. Frank is a great dancer and a hell of a lover, and she'd never minded his underemployment because that gave him time to help around the house and with the boys when she started working longer hours. She'd thought that the boys needed a strong masculine influence in their lives and that Frank was the right one for the job.
Apparently, she'd been wrong.
"Why didn't you ever tell me?" she asks.
Jim still won't meet her eyes. "We were scared you would take his side."
"Take his side?" She studies his face in disbelief. But he isn't lying. She can see it in his eyes. "Okay, Jim. I'm coming home. I'll take care of things."
The sheriff gets back on the line. "Should I turn him over to his Grandmother, now?"
Winona hesitates, and frowns. "No. I'll be there tomorrow. Keep him until then."
Two hours later she is on a shuttle to Earth, happy with the news that Grammy managed to track George down.
First thing in the morning she kicks Frank the hell out of her house. The second thing she does is hire a good lawyer. Only then does she finally go to get Jim.
As they walk to her car he vents his frustration. "If you were gonna get rid of him, then why the hell did you leave me there all night!" His fists are clenched, and his face is red.
She stares him down. "Because you trashed your daddy's car. That's why."
Twenty years after the Kelvin Winona pulls Jim out of bed at ten in the morning for the third time that month. He's hung over again.
He grumbles and groans as she hands him a glass of water and some pills.
"Why the hell aren't you at work?" he says.
She puts her hands on her hips. "Because I am not letting you miss the Starfleet entrance exams again. They're this afternoon, in case you forgot."
This is an old argument. Jim doesn't even bother with the preliminaries--he skips right to the end. "Why do you even think I'm cut out for Starfleet?"
"Why do you think you're not? You're too good to be stuck in Iowa working in a mechanic's shop for the rest of your life."
He glares at her. "Isn't that what you're doing?"
That one hurts, but she doesn't let it show. She only tightens her lips and barks out an order, just like she would for any surly enlisted man under her command. "Get up and take a shower. You stink."
Twenty-two years after the Kelvin, Jim comes home late with a bruised and bloodied face. He's been in another bar fight.
She's glad she was up late doing paperwork (half her damn job these days is paperwork) because, for once, he wants to talk.
"Did Captain Pike come to the yard today with a bunch of cadets?"
She nods. Pike has changed a hell of a lot from the pompous young Ensign who wrote a dissertation on her husband. Seeing death first-hand can really knock the arrogance out of a man. She likes him much better this way.
"Yeah. They were here for a fieldtrip."
He stares out the window at the night sky. "A few of them kicked my ass."
"I can see that."
"Pike said I should get on the shuttle with them tomorrow morning. He wants me to enlist."
Winona goes silent. She frowns in frustration. How the hell can one talk with Captain Pike get Jim to look more serious about joining Starfleet than she's been able to do his whole life? But she doesn't say a thing. She learned long ago not to look a gift horse in the mouth.
"You should get some sleep," she finally says.
He nods, and ambles back to his room.
He's already gone when she gets up in the morning. When she gets to the Shipyard a cluster of men are standing around Jim's motorcycle, laughing.
"He just tossed me the keys!" says one of them.
She strides over. "Gentlemen."
They snap to attention. "Commander," says one. "Good morning, Sir."
She nods. "At ease. Has the shuttle for Starfleet Academy left yet?"
"Yes, Sir. Fifteen minutes ago."
She looks back at the motorcycle, and smiles.
Twenty-five years after the Kelvin, Commander Winona Kirk walks up to her son after his commendation ceremony, and salutes.
He takes her out to lunch to celebrate. She tells him that she knows every pipe, rivet, and junction in the Enterprise, and if she ever gives him problems he can give her a call.
He laughs. "I'll do that, Mom. I'll do that." His smile softens. "You know, I shouldn't have been the first Captain in the family. I'll have you know that I filed a formal protest with Starfleet Command."
She smiles and shakes her head. "They don't give solid old workhorses like me promotions. They need us to stay where we are because no one else could get the job done."
"You underestimate yourself, Mom." He reaches across the table to take her hand.
When he speaks again his tone is as serious as she's ever heard it. "A lot of people have been comparing me to Dad lately. But… I didn't join Starfleet because of Dad. He wasn't the one who taught me what it means to be a good officer, and a good leader. That was you, Mom. It's always been you."
Winona hasn't cried in twenty-five years. Today she decides to make an exception.
Title: Unsung
Characters: Winona Kirk, Jim Kirk
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1516
Summary: For twenty-five years Winona Kirk is too damn busy to waste time crying.
Author's note: Written for the Where no Woman Has Drabbled Before challenge at where_no_woman for the prompt "Winona, unsung" and it grew into something a little longer than a drabble.
Fifteen minutes after the Kelvin, Winona thanks God that George Jr. was in Iowa with his Grandmother. She dries her tears, and resolves not to let them come back. She's too damn busy to waste time crying.
Nineteen months after the Kelvin Winona is the guest of honor at the ribbon-cutting ceremony for the new Riverside Shipyard in Iowa. She plays her role and smiles at the crowd with a toddler on her hip and a five-year-old clutching her leg. Once the guests at the reception start to disperse she turns the boys over to Grammy Kirk and goes to talk to Captain Jones, the Shipyard's commanding officer.
"So good to have you here, Mrs. Kirk. If there's anything I or my officers can ever do for you and the boys--"
"Yeah." She puts her hands on her hips and locks his eyes with hers. "You can give me a job."
He starts to stammer and she cuts him off again. "Starfleet granted me a two year leave of absence, but I'm itching to get back to work. I'm a damn fine engineer, and I'll be an asset to your team. I'll get you my resumé first thing in the morning. I'd like to start work next week, if possible."
She fends off every excuse he musters, and he finally ends with a weak, pleading argument. "But, you were a ship's officer. Don't you want to go back to that?"
"No." She shakes her head vehemently. "I'm never going back out there. Never."
She starts work five days later.
Nine years after the Kelvin she sits staring incredulously at the face of the young officer on her communications console.
"So," she says, "let me get this straight, Ensign Pike. You want to come out here and spend a few days dredging up all my memories of the day my husband died, just so you can put a more personal touch into your dissertation."
The young officer looks taken aback. "Well…Lieutenant…that's not exactly how I see it."
She shakes her head in disgust. "Find someone else to tell you their tales of glory and tragedy, Ensign. I've got a shipyard to run and a family to raise. I just don't have the time."
She punches the button to end the communication. When he tries to call again four days later, she doesn't even bother to answer.
Thirteen years after the Kelvin, Winona is just finishing her eight-month stint as a consultant on the construction of the new Utopia Planitia Fleet Yards on Mars when she gets an urgent subspace communication from Grammy Kirk. George has run away from home, and Jim is in jail.
Winona tells Grammy Kirk to try all of George's friends, listing their names, addresses, and communication codes from memory.
"And what about Jim?" asks Grammy. "Will you transfer me the credits to bail him out?"
Winona's lips are tight. "I think I'll talk to him, first."
The sheriff is good enough to let Jim take the subspace call from his mother.
As she expected, Jim is ready with an excuse. "He was going to sell Dad's car! I had to take it!"
"And you had to drive it off a cliff?"
He doesn't have an answer for that one. Winona decides to cut through the crap. "Has Frank ever hit you? Did he ever hit George?"
Jim stares at her silently for a minute before frowning and nodding.
"How long has Frank been treating you like this?"
Jim looks away from her. "A long time."
Winona takes a long, deep breath. Frank is a great dancer and a hell of a lover, and she'd never minded his underemployment because that gave him time to help around the house and with the boys when she started working longer hours. She'd thought that the boys needed a strong masculine influence in their lives and that Frank was the right one for the job.
Apparently, she'd been wrong.
"Why didn't you ever tell me?" she asks.
Jim still won't meet her eyes. "We were scared you would take his side."
"Take his side?" She studies his face in disbelief. But he isn't lying. She can see it in his eyes. "Okay, Jim. I'm coming home. I'll take care of things."
The sheriff gets back on the line. "Should I turn him over to his Grandmother, now?"
Winona hesitates, and frowns. "No. I'll be there tomorrow. Keep him until then."
Two hours later she is on a shuttle to Earth, happy with the news that Grammy managed to track George down.
First thing in the morning she kicks Frank the hell out of her house. The second thing she does is hire a good lawyer. Only then does she finally go to get Jim.
As they walk to her car he vents his frustration. "If you were gonna get rid of him, then why the hell did you leave me there all night!" His fists are clenched, and his face is red.
She stares him down. "Because you trashed your daddy's car. That's why."
Twenty years after the Kelvin Winona pulls Jim out of bed at ten in the morning for the third time that month. He's hung over again.
He grumbles and groans as she hands him a glass of water and some pills.
"Why the hell aren't you at work?" he says.
She puts her hands on her hips. "Because I am not letting you miss the Starfleet entrance exams again. They're this afternoon, in case you forgot."
This is an old argument. Jim doesn't even bother with the preliminaries--he skips right to the end. "Why do you even think I'm cut out for Starfleet?"
"Why do you think you're not? You're too good to be stuck in Iowa working in a mechanic's shop for the rest of your life."
He glares at her. "Isn't that what you're doing?"
That one hurts, but she doesn't let it show. She only tightens her lips and barks out an order, just like she would for any surly enlisted man under her command. "Get up and take a shower. You stink."
Twenty-two years after the Kelvin, Jim comes home late with a bruised and bloodied face. He's been in another bar fight.
She's glad she was up late doing paperwork (half her damn job these days is paperwork) because, for once, he wants to talk.
"Did Captain Pike come to the yard today with a bunch of cadets?"
She nods. Pike has changed a hell of a lot from the pompous young Ensign who wrote a dissertation on her husband. Seeing death first-hand can really knock the arrogance out of a man. She likes him much better this way.
"Yeah. They were here for a fieldtrip."
He stares out the window at the night sky. "A few of them kicked my ass."
"I can see that."
"Pike said I should get on the shuttle with them tomorrow morning. He wants me to enlist."
Winona goes silent. She frowns in frustration. How the hell can one talk with Captain Pike get Jim to look more serious about joining Starfleet than she's been able to do his whole life? But she doesn't say a thing. She learned long ago not to look a gift horse in the mouth.
"You should get some sleep," she finally says.
He nods, and ambles back to his room.
He's already gone when she gets up in the morning. When she gets to the Shipyard a cluster of men are standing around Jim's motorcycle, laughing.
"He just tossed me the keys!" says one of them.
She strides over. "Gentlemen."
They snap to attention. "Commander," says one. "Good morning, Sir."
She nods. "At ease. Has the shuttle for Starfleet Academy left yet?"
"Yes, Sir. Fifteen minutes ago."
She looks back at the motorcycle, and smiles.
Twenty-five years after the Kelvin, Commander Winona Kirk walks up to her son after his commendation ceremony, and salutes.
He takes her out to lunch to celebrate. She tells him that she knows every pipe, rivet, and junction in the Enterprise, and if she ever gives him problems he can give her a call.
He laughs. "I'll do that, Mom. I'll do that." His smile softens. "You know, I shouldn't have been the first Captain in the family. I'll have you know that I filed a formal protest with Starfleet Command."
She smiles and shakes her head. "They don't give solid old workhorses like me promotions. They need us to stay where we are because no one else could get the job done."
"You underestimate yourself, Mom." He reaches across the table to take her hand.
When he speaks again his tone is as serious as she's ever heard it. "A lot of people have been comparing me to Dad lately. But… I didn't join Starfleet because of Dad. He wasn't the one who taught me what it means to be a good officer, and a good leader. That was you, Mom. It's always been you."
Winona hasn't cried in twenty-five years. Today she decides to make an exception.