This is a disclaimer.

(eight)

Joanna McCoy is anything but stupid. And she knows a thing or two about awful mothers and broken homes and family fights that never stop, so she knows better than to ask Uncle Jim about why he always spends Christmas with her and Dad, and why he never talks about his home. Nor would she ever dream of pointing out to him that the way he talks about Jo's family, like he knows exactly what she's talking about whenever she starts complaining about her Mom, is even more of a dead giveaway than him spending Christmas with them.

And it's not like she minds that he comes over; Uncle Jim is awesome and fun and super cool, and he once brought her back a real Klingon blade weapon, the name of which she can't quite pronounce, in a glass case from this one mission. It's hanging on the wall in her bedroom, and Dad disapproves of it so much it's hilarious to watch his face whenever he happens to glance at it.

When her grandmother sniffs at it and says in her smooth warm voice that Jo's still too young to know about that sort of thing, Jo points out that Benny Goodman's dad takes him shooting, and would Grandma mind about the blade weapon so much if Jo were a boy?

Whereupon a whole other argument starts, because they wouldn't be McCoys if they weren't fighting about something.

So Uncle Jim is just as awesome and cool as Dad is, only in different ways, and while Jo does have days – weeks, sometimes – when she detests the pair of them with her whole soul for going off and having adventures while she's stuck here in Georgia with her grandparents and the terrible monthly visits from her mother that always leave her feeling miserable and a bad person for daring to love her Dad more than anyone else in the world, as a rule, she does love Dad and Uncle Jim. To death.

And Mom can just suck it.

Jo makes a point, every time, of meeting the shuttlecraft that carry the crewmembers of the Enterprise back to Earth whenever they're on leave. Maybe it's silly – maybe it's a waste of money to make the trip every time with Grandma when Dad's coming straight to her anyway, but it's a part of their routine, now.

It makes her feel safe, knowing she's the first thing Dad sees when he comes back to Earth.

So here she is on the docks, waiting for Dad to arrive. He and Uncle Jim are always on the last shuttle, along with Mister Spock and Lieutenants Uhura and Sulu and Pavel, and Commander Scott who showed her how to take apart a communicator once and turn it into a portable radio, complete with earphones and volume control.

But loads of people call out to her on their way past, wave and smile and nod at her, and Jo's occupied with waving back and calling out and blowing a kiss to Nurse Chapel, who takes care of her Dad whenever Uncle Jim can't because he's busy blowing things up, and registering out of the corner of her eye that the blonde lady leaning on the railing next to her is watching her with a sad sort of smile.

"So is it your Dad or your Mom on the ship?" she asks Jo at last.

"My Dad," Jo says. "He's the CMO. That stands for Chief Medical Officer, you know."

"I know," the lady says with a little smile. Her hair is spun gold, like the princess in the fairy tale, but there are shadows under her eyes deeper than Dad's, and she's so thin. "I used to be an engineer with Starfleet."

"Like Commander Scott?"

"I guess," she says, laughing.

"Who are you here to meet?" Jo asks, suddenly curious. It's just the bridge crew left now, and Jo is sure she's not related to – wait.

"My son," the lady says. "I'm Winona Kirk."

Jo jumps down from her perch on the railing and looks up at her. "You're Uncle Jim's Mom," she says. "I'm Joanna McCoy."

Mrs Kirk raises her eyebrows in surprise. "Uncle Jim?" she says, and then laughs. "Yes, I'm Jim's Mom."

"He spends Christmas with Dad and me," Jo says.

Mrs Kirk's mouth twists, a bit. "I'm glad he spends it with someone," she says softly, looking down at her hands, resting on the railing Jo was just sitting on. They're pretty hands, long and slender. They're Uncle Jim's hands.

"He brought me a Klingon blade weapon back from the Neutral Zone last year," Jo says.

Mrs Kirk laughs out loud. "So he hasn't changed much, then," she says, smiling widely and warmly, a nice smile. A lovely smile, even.

But in Jo's head, it's that first Christmas when Uncle Jim came home with Dad and Jo wanted to know why, intent as she had been on getting her Dad to herself, and Dad had lifted her onto his knee and said Jo, honey, sometimes Jim needs someone to look after him, you know? and Dad's not here right now, so Jo has to do it for him, because Uncle Jim brings her home Klingon knives and loves Dad as much as Jo herself does and never looks at her like he pities her for having such a terrible family life.

Joanna tucks her hands into her pockets. "I don't know," she says. "But. Look. He never talks about you."

Mrs Kirk actually flinches, as if Jo had slapped her. Jo feels bad for her then, but not bad enough to stop. "He never talks about you," she repeats. "And I know – I know all about Moms. OK? And if you hurt him, I'll end you." She feels slightly ridiculous saying it, but she lifts her chin up anyway and meets Mrs Kirk's sky blue eyes head on, trying not to let the woman see that she's chewing on the inside of her cheek.

Mrs Kirk stares at her for a moment. Then, with a bit of effort, one hand curled tightly around the railing, she kneels down in front of her, so that she's looking up at Jo instead of the other way round, eyes open and guileless, and says gently, "Jo, I promise you I won't hurt him."

But Jo, young as she is, experienced as she is about Moms, can hear the unspoken "anymore" at the end of that sentence, even if Mrs Kirk doesn't realise it's there.