Tadaaaaa! Here's a follow-up, and guess what. I'll probably do another chapter too! *waits for applause* *crickets chirrup*.

Either way, I own nothing! And here's to an AWESOME NEW YEAR!!! HAPPY 010110!!! :D

Jim was sitting in the warm room, laughing at Bones who looked utterly befuddled by something Spock had just said. It was New Year's eve and they were having a Chanukah/Christmas/Kwanza/New-Years' celebration combined because Starfleet had disallowed them from taking any time off to celebrate anything previously, on account of there being 'more important, official' occasions to grace. His crew had brushed it off, knowing he'd tried his best to get them leave, and sometimes Starfleet just sucked.

But now none of those thoughts were going through his mind. Instead, only slightly buzzed, his mind was full of happiness at having found this amazing new family with whom no bad memories tainted his joy. He wasn't religious, but he'd tried his best to get specialties for each festival, and was pleased he had found latkes just before the party started, so they were still hot.

Scotty was telling a really awful story about this Rigellan girl he'd dated once, and her apparent allergy to cranberries when his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and seriously considered ignoring it, because to answer he'd miss this. Not just the story, but this time with his crew. But the number was unregistered, and not listed in his directory and knowing he'd have this crew for as long as he could keep them, he picked up.

"Hello?"

He didn't recognise the voice. "Yeah, hi. Who's this?" Scotty had paused, and everyone had turned to watch him. He rolled his eyes, jokingly.

"Hey, Jim." She paused. The voice sounded, and Jim hated to say this, it sounded pretty. But not in the young-thing-pretty. A dignified, mid-fifties pretty.

"Sorry, do I know you?" Jim continued, politely.

"Yeah. Jim. It's me. Uh. Winona." She wasn't sure how to introduce herself. Hi, I'm the woman who was absent from your childhood? Or, Hi, I'm your god-awful mother? So she decided to stick with her first name. It wouldn't put him under pressure, she hoped. She wouldn't want a mother like her either.

Jim froze. Something on his face changed and everyone on the table could see it. Bones could see something like fear cross his face, even though Jim would die before admitting it. He waved his hand at them, as if telling them to continue, and walked out of the room filled with voices hissing and asking who it was. There was a moment of silence. No one felt like laughing anymore, even when Scotty described in detail his Rigellan Ex-Girlfriends' hives upon contact with cranberries. Jim shouldn't have to be so serious on New Years' Day. Shouldn't have to face serious issues. Who called like that? (Bones demanded loudly)

It probably wasn't Starfleet, because even though they sucked they had standards. Apart from that, no one had any guesses. No one really knew about Jims' private life, not even Bones who had known him the longest. They didn't think he had any living family, but Spock knew (and no one else) that Jim had a brother who worked on Deneva for the CDC.

But Deneva was ahead of them. It would be two in the morning, there. Who could it be?

Jim stood outside in the cold, left hand shoved in his coat pocket, breath frosting on his nose. He hadn't bothered pulling on all his protective clothing, and it was freaking cold.

"Ma?" he whispered, quietly as if his voice had given way.

She hadn't expected him to use that title, but she recognised the way he said it. It was just a title, and held no link to a term of endearment used for the woman who raised you. "Yeah. It's me."

There was silence as they waited for the other to speak.

"Listen, Jim." She paused as they heard Bones yelling for Jim to get his ass back inside before he caught his death. "Looks like you've got a real family, now."

He nodded then remembering she couldn't see him and replied, "Yeah." He wouldn't deny that it was the first time.

"I don't know how to say this, because everything I say seems so insignificant and immature, but I'm sorry. I'm really sorry." Her voice too, quivered with emotion. Jim felt a flush of viciousness, and could imagine himself demanding to know what she was sorry for. Making her admit, to see if she really knew what he'd been through. But he thought of Bones and Spock and his gang and knew (because he was a bit more mature now, thanks very much) that it wasn't worth it. It wasn't worth remembering the past if it only caused him pain. It wasn't worth bringing back that anger if it did no good. That bridge was burnt and she could stand there waiting for as long as she wanted, but he wouldn't care. He was happy now.

So he just said, "Yeah." His fingers were trembling on the phone, and he couldn't tell if it was the cold or something else.

"Jim, please don't. Please don't shut me out." She sounded like she was begging.

"Ma," and his voice failed him. "Look. I can't do this right now."

"Then when, Jim?" she asked, and suddenly Jim snapped.

"Look, I don't know. I've been trying to get over it—no, I've been trying to forget it, for my whole life, Ma. I can't sleep at night, because of what happened on Tarsus, and you can't expect me to forgive that so easily, because you sent me there even though there were rumors of stuff going wrong."

"You know I was on the last shuttle there. You didn't care. You never cared, even when the problem was closer to home, like Frank. You always pretended what he did was for my benefit, but you—you don't know what he did to me. If that was for my benefit, I have no reason to live my life anymore because I stop people from doing that," it was like a dam had broken and words were pouring out uncensored, and filled with emotion.

"You can't expect me to just pretend nothing happened, because stuff happened, and I don't know how it changed me. I might even have been normal if—if—" but he found he couldn't choke the words out. "It's not okay. The bridge is burnt and I don't know if I can fix it. I'm not a child anymore, Ma. I can't forgive something so easily when it hurt me so much."

"For so long, my whole childhood, I wondered why you hated me and what I'd done. Everything I did, every second of every day was in hope of finding something that would make you forgive me. I didn't care what happened to me, in the hope that you'd forgive me for whatever I'd done. Can you imagine what it felt like when I found that my only sin was to have been born? I have to take care of me, now."

He didn't realise but his volume had been increasing and he was almost shouting at the phone by the time he finished. He hadn't even noticed the door creak open as Spock came to stand beside him. Spock slid his hand into Jims' and squeezed it, and for the half-Vulcan it was as good as giving a full hug. Spock's free hand cupped his face, sending warmth into his bones, and his thumb stroked his numb lips, sending painful feeling into them again.

The phone was silent.

"I know, Jim. I know. I'm sorry that I made—that I screwed up, honey, but I'm just trying to say that I—I'm growing old, Jim, and before I die I need to have your forgiveness because it's the only way I can die peacefully."

Jim closed his eyes and took a deep breath, gripping Spock's hand even tighter in an attempt to control himself.

"Jim," Spock said quietly, and unlike anyone else Jim knew would, he didn't offer advice or consolation or comfort because it wouldn't take away the pain. It wouldn't make things alright. But for now Spock was there and it helped him breathe.

"Jim, is someone there with you? Jim are we on speakerphone?" Winona demanded, suddenly tense.

Jim rolled his eyes, bolstered by Spocks' very presence. "Ma, Spock's with me. No, we're not on speakerphone."

"What's he doing there?" she demanded, wondering why he was working on New Years' Day. "Don't you have holidays?"

"Ma, I was having a party when you called." Hosting it, actually. Jim wondered how his guests were doing. Spock sent him a thought assuring him they were fine, if a bit worried.

"So why is your first officer there?" her voice was still firm and demanding, and for a moment Jim felt like cutting the connection because no matter how he dealt with her, he was still angry and felt even more when she presumed to know anything about him and his life. "Is it a work party?"

"Ma, Spock's my best friend." And more, but he wouldn't tell her that yet. He didn't know if he could trust her. "Then Bones, my CMO, then Uhura the Head Comm. Officer, Sulu the Pilot, Chekhov the Navigator, Scotty the Engineering Head these are my friends. We stick and we're lucky we even got a chance to have a private party." Which you are ruining,Jim thought uncharitably.

She made a sound which Jim supposed was a snort, before saying, "So it's a work party."

"Ma, don't you dare presume anything about my life. They're my family, and I'm celebrating with them." He was really mad. How could she be so patronizing? "They're my only family," he said, venomous, hoping she'd get the point.

She paused. "Of course. I'm sorry it's just that Captain Robau was never as close to anyone on his crew on the Kelvin, even though he'd known your father four years."

Jim felt like rolling his eyes. Of course they wouldn't be close, it was against the rules. Starfleet expected crews to be businesslike and work-only, especially on their flagship, but he ran his ship a different way. If they were going to be together for five years, and perhaps another five, they would have to bond. They would have to be friends so they would fight harder when needed, and he said as much. He wasn't his father was left unsaid.

There was another silence and Spock made an uncharacteristic gesture by putting his arm around Jim's waist and resting his chin on Jims shoulder, shooting Jim's nerves with warmth.

"Jim, I get that I don't know you much. Or at all. But I want to. I want to connect, and they do say better late than never, right?"

The ball was in his court now, and he would have to make a choice.

Jim, never limit your options, t'hy'la. Never cut the final thread.

And even though he knew he was perfectly entitled to shutting her down, he wouldn't, even though the stupid phrase she used had nothing to do with it. He'd be fine without her. It was just—he wanted to know what he'd missed as a child, and he'd never admit it. "Yeah, yeah okay."

"Great, Jimmy—"

And without being able to help it he cut her off. "Don't call me that."

"Uh, okay. Jim, then. Great, I'll call soon, okay?"

Jim hmm noncommittally because to be honest he felt like ignoring any future calls from her, but he wouldn't. He owed it to himself.

Tip-toeing he kissed Spock firmly on the lips and they walked into the house and the warmth. The small group cheered and Jim rolled his eyes before asking, "So what'd we miss?"

"Well, the biggest news is that I think 'Karu and Pav are making out in your kitchen," Bones said and it was obvious they were waiting for his reaction.

"What, that's it?" Jim asked, grinning. Spock's eyebrow had raised only slightly.

"You mean you knew?" Nyota asked, incredulous.

"Well, yeah," Jim said laughing. "A Blind man could have seen it. But then again," he said gesturing expansively at the room. "I'm pretty sure I don't have a crew full of blind people, so it must be just good old me!" He mock-bowed and ducked as Bones threw a roll at him, laughing.

"Waste, Doctor, is illogical."

"So help me god, Spock, one more time I hear that word and I'll—"

"You'll what," Nyota asked jokingly, "risk the wrath of Jim Kirk?"

Jim grinned and Bones mock-fainted and without further ado, they were back to their jovial mood.

On the other side of the line, Winona sat in the dark room and wondered if she'd done the right thing, and how Jim would react if she went to visit him.

Boomz! How was it? Good? Bad? REVIEW!!!

Love,

Lady Merlin