Chapter One: When is a Home Not a Home?
It had been ten years since Joanna McCoy had seen her father. A decade. More than half her life. Of course, she had seen him on vidscreens with his prompt weekly calls to check in on her. He never forgot her birthday or to ask her about recitals or horse riding competitions. He knew her friend's names, would happily gossip with her about her school life like he'd been on Earth all this time.
But she hadn't been in the same room him since she was six years old.
She could remember him vaguely. She could remember the ghosts of a strong fatherly hug, of warm hands on her face, stroking her hair. Of a deep, growl of a voice that read her bedtime stories.0
She shifted restlessly. They were waiting for the Enterprise to disembark. The Press were swarming the transporter pads, eager to take shots of the first crew back from a five year mission. Joanna tried not to be too concerned about her appearance. She hadn't thought there would be such a furore and she'd just put on jeans and a t-shirt, throwing on her school jacket and shoving her hair up into a ponytail.
She had thought it was important that her father recognised her, rather than making herself up. Looking at the other daughters and women around though, she started to feel that maybe she should have made a bit more of an effort. Maybe a bit of blusher and eye shadow would have been a good idea?
There was the glowing white light on the transporter pad of the first crew member to beam down, taking on the tradition of 'First Kiss'. Camera bulbs flashed and Joanna felt her heart in her mouth. She had been briefed by Starfleet that her father would be one of the last off the ship as one of the most senior officers and one of the Captain's closest friends. He was due to beam down with the bridge crew.
Joanna rubbed her palms on the inside of her jeans. She'd convinced her mom that it was okay. She was sixteen and she could do this on her own and stay with her dad for a few weeks. Her mother hadn't been convinced, but Joanna had won the argument in the end. It wasn't that she disliked her mother, her stepfather, or her life. She had just wanted to see her father before he went back into the black where she couldn't follow him.
Wave after wave of crew members stepped off the pads, their families surging forward to greet them. The sounds of crying, laughter, shouts of greeting, whoops of joy flew through the air and Joanna found herself smiling as she moved forward. Soon there was only herself and a few others left waiting. An elderly Vulcan, a beautiful Asian woman, two middle-aged Russians who seemed to be having a rather serious conversation in their own language, a proud looking black man whose eyes never left the transporter pads. Joanna guessed that they were all waiting for the bridge crew.
She could feel the tension mounting. The journalists had taken enough photos of 'ordinary' people now and were waiting for the legends. Joanna still couldn't get over the fact that her father had become one. That her father's name was almost celebrity now, after the discoveries that he had made. The Enterprise bridge crew were more than just officers of Starfleet now, they were public figures.
She watched as the white lights coalesced for the final time and shapes began to take form on the pad. In the centre was Captain Kirk, stood tall and smirking slightly. He made a comment to Commander Spock beside him, something that Joanna couldn't hear over the sudden yells and cheers of the crowd. The Captain raised a hand, waving and laughing and then started to urge his bridge crew off the pad.
Joanna didn't move forward. She could see her father exchanging quick words with the Captain, a scowl on his face. Kirk didn't seem to even notice the scowl, clapping him on the back and pushing him off the transporter pad and down the steps. She'd known that her father and Captain Kirk were friends. She'd even talked to the Captain on a few occasions when he father had been too busy to answer a communication from her. Kirk had always answered her calls if her father was unable to, explained what was going on, and got her father to call back when things were convenient. He seemed like a nice guy.
"Jo…"
She heard her father's voice. The low Georgia drawl that she associated with the times before, when things had been simple and easy. Before her parent's divorce, before she had moved away from home, before peach cobbler became something she only had if she made it herself.
Joanna took him in. He looked tired, though he seemed happy. He was smiling at her and she could see the dimples in his cheeks. He ran a hand through his hair as he walked towards her, stopping in front of her somewhat awkwardly. She paused for a moment, wondering how you greeted your somewhat estranged father, before she made her decision.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close. She was tall for her age, but her father still had to bend slightly at the waist before wrapping his arms around her. He squeezed her so tightly against him she struggled to breathe.
"Hey daddy," she said, closing her eyes because she could feel inexplicable tears burning in them. She felt him adjust his arms, holding her even tighter and she couldn't find it in her to complain. She clung to him, trying to remember if she'd ever been held like this by him before.
He smelled strange. There was a hint of cologne, but that was underneath the smell of disinfectant and a distinct smell of just… space. Of recycled air and sonic-cleaned clothes. Underneath that there was the faintest smell of sweat, like he'd been busy throughout the day and hadn't had a chance to change his shirt. She wondered if she smelled weird to him.
Joanna opened her eyes and was met with the sight of the transporter pad. Captain Kirk stood there alone, his arms clasped behind his back. No one had moved forward to meet him and Joanna saw his eyes weren't scanning the crowd looking for people, more taking everything in. She wondered why the Captain of the ship had no one to welcome him back and gently drew away.
"Jo, you're a lot taller than you seem in your vids," her father said, putting his hand on the small of her back to lead her away. She took his hand though, stopping him from moving her on. He looked confused but she gestured to the transporter pad.
"Why isn't anyone here to meet Captain Kirk?" she asked, frowning slightly. Her father looked up at the pad and she could see sadness pass over his expression. He shook his head and Joanna took that to mean he either didn't know or wouldn't tell her.
"No one should come home after five years and not get a hug," she said, pulling on her father's hand. She wasn't quite sure what she was doing, but her father let her drag him along and he didn't protest, though it must have been obvious what she was planning.
She moved up the steps to the transporter pad and cleared her throat somewhat awkwardly.
"Captain Kirk?" she said. He turned, the numbed expression on his face lifting when he saw her, his eyes lighting up as they danced between her and her father. She noticed the way that Kirk's expression seemed to linger on her father slightly longer than necessary and how the Captain's posture straightened slightly.
"Miss McCoy. It's a pleasure to meet you in person at last," he said, saluting her. Joanna smiled, glancing behind her at her father. She'd been warned all about the Kirk charm by her dad, who had regaled her with stories when she'd reached her teenage years. She was sure that they were supposed to be lessons on why not to get involved with boys, but Joanna had enjoyed the stories. It had been refreshing to hear about someone who wasn't playing life by the rules.
"You too Captain Kirk. I just noticed no one was here to welcome you home, so I thought I would do it," she said and stepped forward. She gave him a very brief, somewhat awkward hug. He wasn't as broad as her father, but somehow he seemed less huggable. He seemed too tense, like he didn't know how to deal with such a platonic show of affection.
Flashes went off all round them and Joanna pulled back, feeling sheepish. She felt her father's hand rest on her shoulder and glanced back at him to see that he was smiling however.
"Oh god. Are you sure she's yours Bones? I'm pretty sure that there's no way that someone this charming has your genetics in them," the Captain joked, turning slightly so his back was to the journalists. Joanna guessed that it was to try to stop them taking a decent picture and smiled.
"Well, the DNA tests check out," her father replied easily, quirking an eyebrow at the Captain. "Besides, just because you aren't wooed by my Southern charm, doesn't mean there's no one who finds it attractive."
"I guess some people find that Southern belle thing attractive," the Captain was smirking and Joanna felt like she was suddenly caught in the middle of something strange. It almost sounded like the Captain was flirting and she wasn't entirely sure what to make of her father flirting with… Captain Kirk.
"God, Jim, you're a pain in the ass. You've been planetside less than ten minutes and already you're hitting on my girl?" he asked, pulling Joanna close in mock-protectivity. Joanna didn't want to point out that she didn't even have a Georgia accent like her father, and that perhaps the Captain hadn't been referring to her.
"What can I say, Bones? She grew up to be a real beauty," he said, and he dropped the smirk for a genuine smile in her direction. Joanna smiled back, feeling somewhat unsure.
"Well, Jim, we're going to make a move. We've got a lot of catching up to do. I'm sure you understand," her father said. Joanna nodded. It was slightly awkward to think about being alone with him after all this time, but she knew that they did need some time to just… get used to each other. The physicality of each other as well. Her father through a vid screen just didn't quite match the man he was and she didn't quite know what to make of him yet.
"Yeah sure. I'll pop round later for some of that bourbon. Going to want a few drinks after I've gone through the press machine," Kirk said. Joanna felt her father's hand twitch on her shoulder but his expression remained open and comfortable.
"Yeah have fun with that. I'll see you later, Jim. Come on Jo," he said, leading her away.
Joanna glanced back at the Captain when she was almost about to leave the room. Although he was surrounded by reporters, he was watching their retreat almost exclusively. When he saw her looking back he nodded at her, before turning away to face the reporters.
Joanna sat somewhat awkwardly on the sofa. Her father had poured her a glass of lemonade and placed it on the table before her. He'd then hovered, uncertainly for a moment, before going to unpack his things.
She sipped the lemonade. It was bitter, more suited to adult tastes. She tapped her fingernails against the glass as she took in her surroundings. Her father's apartment was sparse, with no photos or trinkets. She guessed he hadn't been much of collector before he'd gone into space.
"Do you mind if I put the TV on?" she called. There was a bang before her father reappeared, scowling slightly.
"Don't have to ask," he replied, picking up the remote and handing it to her. She took it, feeling hesitant still as her hands clasped it. This place didn't feel like her house, it didn't even feel like someone lived here. It felt almost clinical, like her father had replicated a part of the hospital waiting room and brought it home. The only difference was the slightly less battered furniture. It looked like a lot of the pieces had only just been unwrapped from their plastic.
"Um… can you sit down?" Joanna asked. It felt weird to be so formal, but she felt inexplicably nervous and it was clear her dad did too. They needed to talk, to clear the air somehow so they could get back to being as natural as they were in their vid conversations.
"Got lots to do. Didn't realise Jim had dumped a load of his sh-stuff in the spare room. Tryin' to clear it out for you," her father replied, censoring what she assumed had been a curse word. She quirked an eyebrow at him.
She had known that the Captain was close to her dad, but she hadn't thought he was that close. Dumping things in his spare room? Joanna wondered if she'd be able to get some information from the Captain when he came over later, about her dad, about their mission, about their friendship.
"I can help," she said, standing up eagerly. Her father shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
"It's fine. I wouldn't want you to move Jim's stuff for him. You're a guest."
"I'm family," Joanna asserted, folding her arms defensively. Why was it that Kirk could dump his stuff and make her father tidy it up, but she couldn't help? Why was she a 'guest' but Kirk could leave his things everywhere? "I'm not here to sip lemonade and watch TV. I'm here to see my father whose been in space for the last five years. Now either let me help or send me back to mom's."
Her father looked at her for a long moment before he smiled. "You got my temper, I see. Come on, I'll show you to the room you're going to be staying in for the next few weeks… although I'll warn ya, Jim's left it in a real mess."
He led her to a room that did, indeed, look like a bomb had hit it. Men's clothes lay scattered everywhere, a few old paper books as well. The bin was overflowing with paper waste and reports with technical titles were spread across the dresser.
"Are you sure Captain Kirk doesn't live here?" she asked, picking up a t-shirt with the tips of her fingers and flinging it into a laundry basket by the door.
"I'm sure, Jim sometimes forgets though," her father replied sheepishly as he scooped up a few more sets of clothes and threw them into the basket.
"Does he come over quite a bit?" Joanna asked, moving to the desk and starting to pile up the papers. She was surprised to find that most were academic reports on a wide range of topics. All were by Kirk and they had notes scribbled in the margins. Essays on xenolinguistics, engineering, philosophy, Starfleet history, all scattered messily across the dresser with no seeming order to them. She just gathered them into one pile.
"Well, he comes over more than the other crew members of the Enterprise I guess," her father said. He had an exasperated expression on his face, but his eyes spoke of a certain level of fondness.
"Looks like the papers weren't lying about him being a genius," she said, holding one up about the philosophical integrity of the Prince Directive before adding it to the pile. Her father gave her a wry smirk.
"Oh, Jim Kirk's a genius alright. Shame he's an arrogant, annoying asshole as well. That paper was written literally just to give Starfleet the middle finger after they tried to put a mark on his file for violating the Prime Directive when the people of the planet were going to be wiped out unless we did something," her father seemed to be half-grumbling, half-admiring. She was glad she'd finally got him to open up and talk to her, even if it was only about Captain Kirk. It would be awkward to change the topic, to talk about other things, even though what she really wanted to talk about was how they were going to go about repairing their somewhat fractured relationship.
"You're growling but I know you like him really. You wouldn't have let him practically move in otherwise," she pointed out. She put the papers in a drawer and turned to see her father looking wistfully at a shirt in his hands.
"Dad?"
He jerked slightly and scrunched up the shirt, throwing it towards the laundry.
"Bastard's been borrowin' my clothes," he said. Joanna nodded. It was odd. Her father seemed downright antagonistic towards Kirk, but there was evidence all around her that they were clearly close friends.
Her mother had told her that her father was a difficult man to get along with. That he was sensitive, but that he expressed himself badly. It was easier to be angry at everything than see it how it really was. Joanna wondered if that's what it was with his relationship with Kirk. A strange, bizarre, McCoyish way of showing affection.
"Captain Kirk is coming over later, right?" she asked as she started to strip the bed. Her father nodded, once, pushing open the curtains, revealing a picture frame that had been sitting behind them on the windowsill. It was a photo of her father and Kirk. They were wearing Academy uniforms and the table in front of them had a considerable number of beer bottles on it. Between them an Orion woman sat. Her hand was on her father's knee in a possessive gesture, while her other hand was snaked around Kirk's neck, pulling him towards her.
"Who's that?" she asked. Her father looked down and for a moment his expression wavered. He picked up the frame, blowing some dust off it.
"Gaila. An ex of Jim's from our Academy days. She, er… she died when Vulcan was attacked," he said softly. Joanna's eyes widened. "I didn't know Jim had squirrelled this away in here. It was the only photo we had of her."
Joanna took the photo from her father's hands. Although her father was scowling in the picture, he did look honestly happy. So did Gaila, her eyes lit up and shining. Kirk looked… like he was supposed to, she supposed. His head was ducked slightly, his shoulders hunched against being pulled closer, as though slightly reluctant. His line of sight traced Gaila's other hand on her father's knee.
"Did you date her too?" Joanna asked, placing the photo on the dresser. Her father barked out a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.
"You didn't date Gaila, if you know what I mean," he said, turning to open the window. Joanna felt her face heat up when he realised what he meant. "Even so, we weren't involved. She always referred to me as Jim's doctor so it was kind of awkward to talk to her. She and Jim parted on bad terms as well, so I guess he feels guilty and wants to remember her."
Joanna gave the photo one last glance before turning to continue to strip the bed down. She had known her father had been involved in dangerous missions, had known in an abstract way that he had been on the front lines, but she'd only ever thought about the fact he'd survived. She'd only ever considered what the papers told her, of the legendary Enterprise crew, about how they were heroes. It had never occurred to her that her father had lost friends or that he might have watched those he loved get injured. She glanced again at the photo of Gaila. How well had he known her? How much had he mourned her passing?
"Did you lose a lot of people on the mission?" Joanna asked, feeling insensitive for asking but desperately wanting to know. She needed to know. Needed to know something that wasn't in the papers, that wasn't common knowledge for anyone with access to a Starfleet database. She needed to connect on a personal level. Her father didn't even bat an eyelid at the question though, grabbing a cloth from the side and beginning to wipe over the window sill.
"A fair few, but not as many as most ships. Jim is good at getting us into trouble, but also at back out of it," he replied. Joanna nodded, sucking her bottom lip as she thought. Maybe she owed Captain Kirk for more than just keeping her father company?
"You're so weird, dad. One minute it's arrogant asshole the next it's good captain. Shouldn't you at least try to stick to one interpretation?" she asked. Her father laughed again.
"If Jim Kirk fit neatly into a box, trust me, I would. You'll probably find out for yourself tonight anyway that Jim doesn't really fit most normal classifications," he said. Joanna dumped the old sheets into the laundry basket.
"Say what do you want for dinner anyway? I don't have any fresh food in so it'll probably have to be take out," he said, brandishing the duster as he spoke. Small particles of dust fell onto the wooden floor without him noticing. She smiled slightly.
"Anything's fine, dad. Really, I eat anything," she said, sitting down on the mattress to watch him work.
"Well that makes at least one of you easy to feed for tonight…"
Joanna hadn't understood what her father meant until hours later, when Jim Kirk was choking on his food, eyes watering against the allergic reaction that seemed to have occurred.
The Captain had arrived on a motorbike of all things and come straight into the apartment without knocking. He'd draped his leather jacket over the back of the sofa and slumped comfortably into one of the armchairs. She had been envious of his ease in her father's house, as he seemed to just fit in instantly.
He'd proceeded to complain, in increasingly bad language, about his day and meeting with the Admiralty. Joanna had listened as her father responded with a heat and loyalty that surprised her.
"Better pop an antihistamine just in case, Jim. Chinese food for dinner. Might be cross-contamination," her father had warned. Kirk barely paused in his tirade, taking a packet of pills out of his pocket and knocking back two dry.
Feeling a bit like a third wheel in the conversation about Starfleet politics, Joanna had set herself to work setting the table and then perched awkwardly on a chair as he father started to lay out the food on separate plates in the middle.
Kirk sat across from her and spent a few moments just looking at her as he spoke. She felt flustered. She hadn't done anything to draw his attention, and she guessed that he wasn't being too rude. It was just strange to have someone so important looking at her so openly.
"So, Joanna, you're sixteen right? Thought about what you're going to do after high school?" Kirk asked. Joanna licked her lips, wondering if she should tell the truth or not. She'd had plenty of fights with her mother about it already.
"I know what mom wants me to do," she replied, helping herself to the yuk sung. Her father sat down beside her, wisely keeping his own counsel on the matter.
"Oooh. Teenage rebellion, I forgot what that sounded like," Kirk said, laughing and sipping some of his water. He helped himself to some of the food.
"Like hell you have. You sound like that all the time," her father said waspishly. Kirk just smiled and popped a piece of chicken into his mouth with chopsticks.
"It's not teenage rebellion it's just that… I don't really know what I want to do. My mom wants me to go pro with my show jumping, but I'm not sure I want to do it as a job," she admitted. Kirk was chewing thoughtfully as he listened, blue eyes alert and attentive. Joanna wondered how her father coped if Kirk looked at him with those eyes every day.
"Not gonna lie, I've got virtually no knowledge of horses. Are you good at it?" he asked. He paused to clear his throat and Joanna saw her father scowl across the table.
"Not as good as I am at Xenobiology. Mom says that the competition for the Earth-based courses is too stiff though," she said. Kirk's eyes flashed but her father interrupted him before he got a chance to say what was on his mind.
"Damn right it is. Those courses usually require you to go into space for a few months as well. The ones that are purely theoretical and based on Earth are nigh on impossible to get into," he was waving his chopsticks as he spoke. "Though I'm sure you'd get the grades if you applied yourself."
He popped some sesame toast into his mouth with his fingers. Joanna prodded a stem of stir-fried broccoli with her own chopsticks.
"I'm not even sure if I want to do it yet. I mean, the best courses all seem to have an element of space tr-"
She was interrupted by a sudden choking sound. She looked up to see Kirk slamming his fist against his chest, his eyes watering as he coughed. Her eyes widened, alarmed, but her father just sighed, getting to his feet.
"Could you not have left the pineapple fritter alone Jim? It's not like it wasn't obvious what it was. Christ Jim, I'll get the hypospray," he said, wiping his mouth with a napkin and leaving the room.
Joanna hovered awkwardly half out of her chair but the moment that her father left the room, Kirk straightened and wiped his eyes. He looked perfectly fine now he wasn't pulling an 'I'm choking' face and he opened his fist to reveal a rather mushed pineapple fritter.
"Yeah, best not to tell your dad you want to go into space, kiddo. He'll have kittens imagining all the ways you're going to die. Might be better to beg for forgiveness than ask for permission on this one," he said. Joanna leaned back in her chair, staring at the man like he'd grown an extra head.
"You faked an allergic reaction so I wouldn't tell my dad I was thinking of pursuing a career in space?" she asked, aware that her voice sounded sceptical. "Captain Kirk, you're weird."
"Call me Jim," he said, laughing slightly. "And if you knew all the shit I've put up with from your dad over the last five years about all the ways you can die in space and how he's never letting you up there, you'd understand what I've just saved you from."
Her father returned and Jim put the act back on, grimacing when the hypospray was pressed against his neck. Joanna saw the fritter was hidden under his napkin and she smiled at him across the table.
"So, Jim, tell me about your adventures with dad. I want to hear all the best ones!" Joanna said, leaning forward eagerly. Her father protested, but Jim overruled him, starting to tell a story about tribbles of all things.
Joanna laughed in all the places she knew she was supposed to, and when the story ended, she felt somehow closer to her father through Jim's presence than she had when they had been alone.
"Bones, I'm going to crash on your couch tonight if that's alright? I want a few drinks before bed," Jim said, once most of the food had gone. Her father just nodded, putting a bottle of liquor on the table and three glasses.
"Don't tell your ma," her father said, as he poured her a finger of the bourbon as well. Jim's eyes twinkled as she sipped it and pulled a face, pushing it away.
"I'm going to leave you two old men to gossip and go get a shower," she said, standing up. She wanted to brush her teeth because that had tasted disgusting.
"Oh yeah, sure, leave me to do the washing up," Jim said, laughing slightly. She shook her head and walked round the table, kissing her dad on the cheek.
"Night dad 'night Jim. See you in the morning," she said, before taking herself off to the room that they'd cleaned together.
She lay down on the bed, staring at the photo on the dresser. Her father's face stared back at her, along with woman she'd never met but James Kirk's attention was solely on her father. She stared at it for so long she felt she'd memorised every fold of clothing, every bottle of beer, every gentle slope of bodies, twisting around each other.
Looking at that photo she realised that she really had no idea who her father was at all.
