May 9th was just another day, the same as any other for Winona Kirk, but she couldn't help feeling there was just something about this day that was supposed to be different. She thought maybe it was because the house was empty. Chris was in San Francisco, chained to his desk again, and Jim was…well, no one was ever quite sure where he was. Some as-yet uncharted region of deep-space giving as good as he got no doubt, throwing insults like punches in a bar-fight and still managing to save the world before breakfast. Thinking of her crazy, loving, lovable, insensitive son, Winona missed him. She missed having the house crowded with Jim and six of his closest, dearest, and most dependable friends; she missed Jim flirting with beautiful Uhura, chatting in alternating conversations of Russian and Japanese with Sulu and Chekov, bantering with McCoy, talking warp mechanics and who-knew-what else with Scotty, and trying to get a rise out of Spock. She called San Francisco looking for Chris, but he was out of the office in a meeting. Winona didn't bother to leave him a message, she didn't like bothering him when he was busy. Feeling trapped in the empty, quiet house, Winona decided to go sit outside on the porch. It was truly a beautiful day, and being outside would help her feel less…isolated. Opening the door, she happened to look down and saw something on the door mat. A plain, unremarkable envelope lay innocuously on the mat. Curious, Winona reached down and picked it up. Turning it over, she saw the word "Mom" written across the front at least seven times, in at least four different languages outside of Standard.
"That's odd." On the flap of the envelope were the words "Open Me". So, she opened the envelope. Inside was a plain card. On it: "Look up." Winona looked up, wondering what she was supposed to see. And saw something truly remarkable. At first she didn't see anything, but as she watched, there was an all-too-familiar distortion as transporters kicked in.
"Oh…my god!" Winona leaned against the railing, watching in utter disbelief as seven people were deposited on her driveway by site-to-site transporter. Jim pulled out his communicator and flipped it open.
"San Francisco, this is Riverside. Engage." Another transporter appeared, and Winona looked at the card in her hand. At the bottom were these words: "Happy Mother's Day From All of Us. Chris, Jim, and Crew." Winona smiled.
"This is what I was missing!" she looked up at the eight officers standing just at the bottom of the stairs, and just smiled, "It's Mother's Day."
"Happy Mother's Day, Mom." Jim came up the stairs and hugged her, kissed her on the cheek, "I'm fixing dinner. Chris, keep her out of the kitchen! Everybody inside!" Winona went into a full house, banned from her own kitchen and just hoping Jim had somewhere learned how to cook. She didn't stay long, and ended up sitting out on the porch-swing with Chris while the kids did…whatever they were doing.
"Where did Jim learn how to cook?"
"At the Academy." Chris looked over his shoulder and smiled, "He didn't have any money to eat out, so he learned how to cook."
"But to cook, he'd need a kitchen."
"His roommate cooks a mean gumbo, I'm told, I pulled a few strings for them."
"Len taught him how to cook?"
"Mm-hmm. I'm told he cooks for the crew at least once a month, if not twice."
"He's changed." She leaned back as the swing rocked, "Sometimes I remember what he was and I can't recognize him." Chris didn't say anything, he just hugged her. McCoy came out with two glasses of wine, forbade either of them from coming into the house until they were allowed, and asked if they needed anything.
"I think I have everything, Len. Thank you." Winona just smiled at her son's cranky husband.
"You do realize, don't you, that you now have seven children?" Chris cracked a grin once he was gone.
"And I love them all." She especially loved Chekov, who was truly the baby of the family. An hour later, Jim called them to the table and Winona was absolutely astounded by what her son had pulled off. A full, three-course meal was ready to serve and as they sat down, Winona looked at Chris, "Is this…?"
"Mm-hmm."
"Oh, Jim." She sighed and waited until everyone was at the table. Before anyone touched a fork, Jim got up.
"Before we do anything, I need to say something."
"Just make it quick." McCoy grumbled good-naturedly. The others smiled and chuckled. Jim rolled his eyes and otherwise ignored his husband.
"Today is Mother's Day, and while all of us have crazy busy schedules and no time for us let alone anyone else, I want to make a toast to all mothers, those with us, those who watch over our crazy antics from somewhere else, and those who are like mothers to us. Especially, I want to toast our mother, the wonderful woman who couldn't handle me for sixteen years, tried her damn best for the next six, and told the Academy Tribunal exactly where to shove it when we got back from saving the world the first time. Mom, this is for you. Thanks for everything." And he meant it.
For three years, Winona had been the "house-mom" for Jim and his officers. Whenever they were home on shore-leave, and that was rare enough as it was, they showed up at the house dragging duffel-bags stuffed with dirty uniforms, brimming with stories of their latest misadventures and escapades. She heard success-stories, tragedy, comic mishaps, and learning experiences, and all of their romantic woes. Dear god did she hear those out. Speaking of stories, she just listened to the dinner-table chatter and smiled as seven versions of one story made the rounds.
"Kind of makes you wonder how on Earth they get anything done, doesn't it?" Winona smiled at Chris, who snickered into his wine.
"And yet, I don't know of any other ship run half as smoothly as the Enterprise. I hear older captains wonder she doesn't just fall out of space some days, they just don't know the truth of it."
"Do you think anyone could have predicted Jim would become a captain so young?"
"When he told me he'd do it in three years, I knew better than to laugh at him." Chris smiled, "He looked like somebody had hit him with a two-by-four when I got around to him, I didn't think he'd take me seriously."
"And look at him now." Winona looked into her wine and smiled wistfully.
"What are you thinking?"
"Do you think I should tell the kids?"
"Tell them what?" Chris frowned. Winona just raised an eyebrow. Tell them what, indeed. "Oh! I thought you had already!"
"No. I was waiting."
"My god, I could have sworn you'd told them!"
"Told us what?" Jim, bless his sharp hearing, had caught on that there were two conversations going on and he wasn't about to get left out of either one. Winona smiled and got to her feet, picking up her glass.
"I can tell you, you're all here. Our family is growing."
"What? Mom!"
"I'll drink to that one, sure!" Up went seven glasses. Winona looked at her seven children and felt a swell of pride.
"Happy Mother's Day to me."