"Jim," Spock's soft voice said, the sound accompanied by gently caressing fingers carding through his hair.
"Uhn," Jim groaned quietly. "You're going to tell me I have to get up, aren't you?"
"I am," Spock agreed with a kiss. "We need to leave the bed to dress."
"Uhn," Jim groaned again, turning over so his face was buried in his pillow. "No."
"If you do not get up shortly, there can be no coffee for you," Spock warned into one rounded ear.
"Fine," Jim said into the pillow.
"I know you do not mean that, t'hy'la. We have an hour and a half to dress and get to the farm before the reporter is due to arrive."
"You go. Tell him anything you want. Make it up."
"You certainly are cranky this morning," Spock said gently, kissing the back of his neck.
"Yeah? So?" Jim asked with a pout, turning his head enough to look up at Spock. "Maybe I'm always like this in the morning. Maybe you've just never seen me like this."
Spock shook his head at the words, kissing Jim's warm, pink cheek. "I have accompanied you to the Bridge during enough late night emergencies to know that you are fully capable of waking instantly when it suits you. You choose not to wake up in this instance."
"Shut up," Jim requested, looking up at Spock with a twinkle in his blue eyes.
"Is that an order, sir?"
"Would it help if it were?" Jim asked, rolling onto his back to look up at Spock.
"No," Spock admitted, leaning down to kiss Jim's mouth that was slowly curving into a much more characteristic smile. "Do you wish to shower before we go?"
"Nah. I don't care what the Des Moines Registry thinks. Maybe if I look like hell, they won't insist on publishing my picture."
"First of all, Captain, you would need to skip many more showers before you would like anything remotely like 'hell.' And secondly, they can easily obtain your official Starfleet picture should they wish to have one accompany the article."
"Yeah," Jim said with a shrug. "Sometimes being a Captain sucks."
"And sometimes a Captain sucks," Spock said, making Jim laugh.
"Oh yeah," Jim agreed. "And sometimes Captains teach their First Officers how to suck."
"Lessons which I look forward to receiving," Spock assured him with a kiss.
"Okay. We have to stop talking about it if we're ever going to get to the farm."
"Indeed," Spock agreed, leaving the bed and the room to find his casual clothes. When he entered the sitting room fully dressed, it was to find Jim also ready, dressed in black jeans and a green button-down shirt. "Are you ready, sir?"
"Sir?" Jim asked with a laugh, approaching Spock to kiss him lightly. "Where did that come from?"
"I was thinking about our relative positions on our ship," Spock admitted. "And the changes that might occur because of our more recently acknowledged relationship."
"Ahh…" Jim said in understanding. "How we'll be t'hy'la and officers."
"Yes. You have considered it as well?"
"Of course. I thought about it a lot when we were on the Dierdre. I decided it won't really change anything. Because you are the finest first officer ever."
"You cannot know that with any degree of certainty," Spock teased, kissing him not-so-lightly.
"Alright. When we get back, I'll do the research and prove it."
"It was not a challenge, sir. Merely a statement."
"Hmm," Jim responded, putting his arms tightly around Spock in order to really and truly kiss him. Spock reciprocated until they had to break apart in order to breathe. "That may have been a mistake."
Spock took a careful stop back, providing the necessary distance between them. "I apologize."
"No please don't. I don't regret it. You know that," Jim said, looking at him with a mix of love and amusement shining in his bright blue eyes.
"I do know," Spock assured him. "Are you planning to contact your lawyer?"
"Yeah," Jim sighed. "I need to."
"You talk with her and I will go down for a cup of coffee."
"You don't drink coffee," Jim laughed.
"Perhaps I will begin to do so," Spock replied before leaving the suite, Jim's laughter following him.
Jim sat at the computer, contacting Courtney's office. A man about the age of Chekov responded, looking decidedly unfriendly and most unhelpful. "I'd like to speak with Courtney," Jim requested.
"Ms St. Peter is unavailable," the man who reluctantly identified himself as Kyle Vernon told him.
"Then I'd like to leave her a message," Jim responded, an edge of impatience creeping into his voice.
"She is accepting no new clients," Mr. Vernon told him somewhat smugly.
"Good for her," Jim replied, not bothering to hide his sarcasm as he said it.
"Is that all?" Mr. Vernon asked impatiently.
"I'd like to speak with Courtney," Jim said as though they hadn't had this conversation just seconds earlier.
"And I said she is unavailable," Mr. Vernon retorted.
Jim's eyes narrowed as he looked at Mr. Vernon, studying him closely. "Don't you think she might want to decide whether or not she has the time to speak with me, young man?" Jim asked, a hint of his Captain voice coloring his tone.
"I don't know you. Therefore you are not one of her clients. She is not accepting new cases. Our conversation is therefore concluded."
"Don't you at least want to know my name before you hang up on me?" Jim asked, barely disguising his annoyed amusement.
A look of anger briefly washed over Mr. Vernon's face and Jim could see him taking a deep breath. He couldn't help but wonder if Courtney knew this was how he treated callers to her office.
"Fine," Mr. Vernon said in obvious exasperation. "What is your name?"
"Jim Kirk," Jim replied simply. That answer was met with a derisive laugh.
"That's a good one. And I'm Admiral Christopher Pike."
"No. The real Admiral Pike is still asleep in San Francisco. He will, however, be here on Wednesday for the memorial service for Winona Kirk. A service at which Courtney will be in attendance. At my farm which Courtney will assist me in selling to Starfleet," Jim told him, the other man's arrogance and self-importance draining a little more with each word Jim said to him.
"Let me connect you directly to Ms St. Peter," Mr. Vernon finally said in a very quiet voice, the voice of someone who recognized what a gigantic mistake he had just made.
"I appreciate it," Jim said, waiting as his face faded off the screen. A little more time elapsed than strictly necessary before Courtney appeared, a smile of apology on her face. She was what Maddie would call a "handsome" woman, not beautiful in the traditional sense. She was a couple of years younger than Winona would have been, and had been Jim's attorney since the first time he was arrested at far too young an age. Her mostly-grey hair was held back from her face with twin clips, the free ends brushing against her shoulders, her grey eyes studying Jim knowingly.
"He confessed," she said with a laugh.
"He always so self-important?" Jim asked her.
"I honestly don't know, sweetie. He's from a temp agency. Delores is having her third baby any day now. I thought it better she not deliver this one in the office."
Jim laughed at that, shaking his head. "You are a taskmaster."
She shrugged at that, studying him from his screen. "You okay, sweets?"
"Yeah. You know," Jim said.
"I do know. Can you come by this afternoon? Three o'clock?"
"Sure. Did you hear about Frank?"
"I did," Courtney agreed. "Sheriff Burnes assures me he will remain in custody at least for as long as you are here. Probably after that. Whatever your friend did to him took quite a bit of the winds out of his sails."
"A nerve-pinch will do that," Jim agreed. He looked over at the door as it opened to admit Spock bearing two cups and several muffins. "Spock will be with me when I come."
"Of course. I'm looking forward to meeting him," Courtney said with a smile for Spock when he sat next to Jim. "Commander."
"Please, call me Spock," he requested to her nods.
"Thank you," she agreed. "Do you want me to come to the farm early on Wednesday?" she asked kindly.
"If you don't mind. Chris Pike is coming. Tyrl will preside. Don't bring any food," he laughed.
"I won't. I'll make a donation to the Starfleet Survivors and Orphans Fund," she promised.
"Good. I appreciate it. Can you take care of the death certificate? Or do I need to talk to the county clerk about it?"
"I'll handle that. Should I plan to get to the farm at 3? Will that be okay?"
"That will be just fine, Courtney. I really appreciate it."
"I think you know that there's not much I wouldn't do for you, sweetheart," she reminded him.
"I do know. Will you bring Vladimir with you?"
"If he's not in court. I don't think he has anything scheduled in his courtroom after 2 on Wednesday. When we talked about it last night, he said he'd try to keep his docket clear," she said.
"Good. How are the kids?" he asked with a smile.
"Wonderful, as you would except. Alex is in Moscow this term. He's loving it. Stacy is slowly trying to take over Sacramento State, and I expect her to succeed any day. And Patrick will finally graduate from law school in May. He thinks he's going to come practice with me," she laughed.
"That's a no?" Jim asked.
"He got out of Iowa, sweets. There is absolutely no reason for him to come back."
"Except his mama's here. And his father. I doubt he'll ever leave again," Jim predicted.
She nodded at his words, smiling sadly at him. "I really am sorry about Winona."
"Thanks. As you might imagine, I'm having some mixed feelings about the whole thing."
"I know you are. So you aren't eating and you're barely sleeping," she said.
"You been talking to Dr. McCoy?" he asked with a laugh.
She shook her head at that, laughing at his. "Of course not. But I know my Jimmy Kirk."
"You do," he had to agree. "We need to get going. Some reporter from the Des Moines Registry is coming out to ask a bunch of nosey questions."
"You are Captain James T. Kirk, sweetie. There's no such thing as nosey questions any longer."
"Yeah," he sighed.
"Do you need me to call them and reschedule to a time I can be there?" she asked in a firm voice which warned any listener that she was not a woman to be taken lightly.
"No. I'll be fine. Spock will be there," Jim said, smiling over at him. "And Maddie will be there."
"Alright. I'll see you this afternoon at 3."
"You sure will," he agreed, disconnecting after saying his farewell.
"Another member of the James T. Kirk fan club," Spock teased, not that anyone else would have readily recognized that that was in fact what he was doing.
"Not really," Jim said with a shrug, turning to face Spock. "She's always been very good to me."
"As I can tell. Are you paying for the education of her children?"
"Only indirectly," Jim laughed. "Thanks for the coffee."
"You are most welcome. I asked that the rental be brought to the entrance for us."
"Thanks," Jim said, standing to stretch. They made sure they had their keys and their jackets before leaving the suite to drive to a local moving company, purchasing a couple of dozen boxes before continuing on to the farm. They each remained mostly wrapped in their own thoughts until they arrived, taking several of the boxes in with them. Maddie greeted them in the kitchen with a smile and a fresh cup of coffee for Jim.
"You finally sleep?" she asked Jim, already knowing the answer.
"Yeah. You know," Jim said with a shrug.
"I have some idea," she agreed with a smile. "Would you like a cup of tea, dear?"
"If it is of no trouble, ma'am," Spock agreed politely.
"Of course not. The kettle'll take just a minute to reheat," she assured him, turning up the burner under it.
"The Des Moines Registry will be here at 10," Jim reminded her, sipping his coffee.
"They called a little while ago," she agreed. "I said you would be here."
"Thanks," Jim said. "You're going to be close at hand, right?"
She put her fists on her ample hips, studying him with a familiar gleam in her eye. "Captain James Kirk. Worried about a reporter."
"He isn't coming about me. He's coming about Winona," he told her.
"No he isn't, Jimmy. He's interested in you, not your mother."
"That's even worse," Jim decided.
"You became very adept at interviews," Spock told him, accepting the tea from Maddie. "Thank you."
"That doesn't mean I liked doing it," Jim protested.
"Well. There's no getting out of it, my dear," Maddie told him, shaking her head affectionately.
"Yeah," Jim agreed with a shrug. "I'm going to see Courtney today at 3. We'll read Winona's will."
"Alright," Maddie agreed. "I don't expect there will be any surprises."
"I wouldn't think," Jim said. "And Admiral Pike is coming for the memorial service."
"That's nice for you," Maddie said, turning to busy herself with the dishes in the sink.
"It is unkind to tease her," Spock said quietly.
"She doesn't mind. Do you?" Jim asked, kissing the back of her head.
She turned around to swat him with a dish towel, her only response to his question. "What are you doing with the furniture, sweetie?"
"I hadn't gotten that far, honestly. Is there any of you want? They don't allow brass beds on starships."
"Shame, really," she said.
"I suppose so," Jim said with a shrug. "Do you want it?"
"I hadn't thought about it," she admitted. "I'll talk with Tyrl and let you know."
"Of course. And if the kids want any of it, you know they can have it."
"I do. I heard about Frank, dear," she said, her disapproval of his step-father clear. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine, Maddie. He'll probably be in jail until I after I leave."
"Best place for him. Should have never been released to start," she said in anger.
"I know," he sighed.
"Did you really knock him out with the milk?" she asked with an unmistakable tone of pride in her voice.
"I hit him with the milk. Spock rendered him unconscious with a Vulcan nerve pinch," Jim said, glancing over at Spock who was listening to their exchange with barely disguised amusement.
"Either way, he deserves to be unconscious the majority of the time," she agreed.
"I couldn't agree more," he responded. "Where can I get chairs for the service?"
"I'll call the McCarthy Funeral Parlor. How many do you want?" she asked. "100?"
"Do we need that many?" he asked, considering it.
"With you and Spock here we will, honey. I'll see about a few tables too. So we can set them up in the backyard. Don't need all God's children traipsing through the house," she said firmly.
"Okay. We have enough food, right?" he asked, looking at the food that seemed to have multiplied since the time they had been there the day before.
"Yes, we have plenty. You don't need to be worrying about that," she said.
He nodded, refilling his coffee cup and looking out the back window. He was vaguely aware of Spock and Maddie talking quietly but he couldn't seem to focus on what they were saying.
Something about needing 100 chairs seemed so excessive. He had practically raised himself, with Maddie's help. His mother had no time for him and the neighbors generally referred to him in dismissal as "that Kirk boy." Now those same neighbors who had mostly turned their backs to him would be coming to his mother's memorial service and signing her praises. Before it was over, he'd be the son of Mother Theresa. And Maddie was right – they would come out of curiosity and nosiness and the need to see for themselves. Not out of any sense of respect for Winona, or mourning for her passing. Purely for the spectacle of it. "That Kirk boy" couldn't possibly be the same person as Captain James Kirk of the Flagship of the Federation.
He wasn't that person any longer. He had grown up. Saving the universe did that to a man. Maybe that's what it was. He left a boy and he returned a man. And for that he would be eternally grateful to Chris Pike. He hadn't seen "that Kirk boy" in the bar. Chris saw potential and promise. And, Jim thought, he had fulfilled that promise. Yeah, he was sure he had.
If he could hold out until this was over, he could go back to being Captain Kirk of the USS Enterprise and all of this would be in his past. Just like "that Kirk boy" was his past, one that no longer defined him. That's what he had to remember. And he knew Spock would help him to keep that knowledge in the forefront of his thoughts.
"Jim?" Spock asked quietly when he stood next to him. Spock was studying the Captain as Jim continued staring out the window.
"Lost in thought," Jim admitted, looking over at him, his blue eyes clouded.
"There is much to consider," Spock agreed.
"Where'd Maddie go?"
"To contact the funeral parlor," Spock explained. "What do you want to do until the reporter arrives?"
"What time is it now?"
"9:33," Spock responded.
"Okay," Jim said, taking a deep breath. "What did we decide yesterday?"
"The attic. As the majority of your mother's effects are stored there."
Jim shook his head. "Not yet. After he leaves we'll tackle it."
"Very well," Spock said. "The living room?"
"Yes," Jim agreed, leading him into it, each carrying two boxes. They folded them out, using the sturdy packing tape the moving company had provided to them. That small chore done, Jim sipped his coffee and looked at the bookshelf that took up nearly an entire wall of the living room. "Can you believe there are this many real books?"
"Many people prefer the tactical experience of actual paper," Spock observed. "Are any of these from your youth?"
Jim tilted his head to read the spines, picking a bright green book with red letters. "This is one of my all time favorites," he said with a smile that was a reflection of the happier childhood memories. "Green Eggs and Ham."
"That seems…disturbing," Spock commented, leaning a little closer to see the cover. "Why would anyone eat something so oddly colored?"
Jim laughed and opened the book to the first page. "That's what the narrator says. He doesn't like green eggs and ham. But Sam I Am wants him to try it."
"To what ends?"
Jim shrugged, looking fondly at the familiar words. "I always thought it was about getting children to try foods they automatically turn their nose up at. Because in the end, the narrator does like green eggs and ham. Sam I Am was right along."
"As one's parents would be," Spock said.
"Something like that," Jim agreed. "It always made me laugh. The words and the rhymes and the general silliness of it."
"Do you wish to take it with you back to the ship?" Spock asked, accepting it to look at the words and bright illustrations.
"I don't really care. It's just paper and a cover."
"It is much more than that, Jim. It is a memory. A memento of the happier days of your childhood. Did your mother read it to you?"
"No," Jim said.
"I apologize," Spock said, retuning the book to its place.
"No, don't. Apologize, I mean. It's not your fault that… well. It's not your fault."
"Nor is it yours," Spock reminded him.
Jim took a deep breath, studying all of the books still arrayed before them. "I would like this one," he said, taking down a thick volume of Shakespeare and handing it to Spock.
"Certainly. It is quite lovely."
"It is," Jim said, putting it in the box before returning his attention to the shelves.
"What will you do with the ones you do not wish to keep?"
"I have no idea," Jim admitted. "I have no idea what I'll do with any of the contents of the house. If Maddie doesn't want the furniture, what am I going to do with it?"
"Would Starfleet not need the house to remain furnished?"
"Yeah, I guess you're right. Well. I'll talk to Chris on Wednesday. He can help us decide what should stay and what I need to get rid of. I guess the books can stay too. The cadets that study here can read them."
"That is true," Spock said, looking over as Maddie entered the living room.
"Okay, sweetie. I asked them to bring 100 chairs and 8 8-foot tables. They're going to bring a tent too. For the food."
"We need plates and cups and silverware," Jim said.
"I'll stop by Piggly Wiggly and get them. You don't need to worry about it."
"Okay. There's enough in the house account, right?" Jim asked.
"There's plenty. That's not a concern. Do you want me to pick up some wine?"
"Sure. If it's not inappropriate."
"I'm pretty sure everybody will be glad of it," Maddie told him.
"Okay then. I'll be glad for some."
"You taking these books with you?" Maddie asked, looking at the titles.
"A couple of them. This one," he said, showing her the complete works of Shakespeare already waiting in the box. "Not most of the rest."
"I can see how you'd have to leave them," she said with a nod. "You want to donate them to the library in town?"
"I was thinking of just leaving them. Since Starfleet is going to use the farm as a living classroom."
"That's a fine idea," Maddie agreed. "When I go to town, do I need to get more boxes?"
"I think we got enough at the mover's," Jim decided, looking around the living room.
"Alright, dear," Maddie said.
"Jim, a car has arrived," Spock said, Jim nodding and returning to the kitchen. All three of them went to the porch to watch a woman unfold herself from the front seat and cross over to the house. She wore sensible shoes and khaki pants that looked like they had seen better days. Her hair was unnaturally black, a color that did not exist in nature. She sported a blue woven shirt and a vest of the type generally worn by old-time war correspondents. Jim hoped it wasn't a sign of hostility that she was attired that way.
"Oh my," Maddie said quietly, Jim thinking the same thing. He could feel Spock tense slightly where he stood just barely touching Jim's shoulder.
"Well," was all Jim could think to say, watching the woman climb the steps.
"Is this the Kirk residence?" she asked in a booming voice, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand, her eyes crinkling as she squinted at them.
"It is," Jim agreed, crossing the porch to open the door. "Come in."
"Thank you. I'm Marcia Spangler from the Des Moines Registry," she explained as she entered the porch, as though they could not tell she was a reporter.
"I'm Jim Kirk. This is Spock. And Madeline Grant."
Marcia Spangler nodded and studied them with an intensity that Jim found slightly unnerving. "I am sorry about your mother's passing, Captain."
"Thank you," Jim said hoping he disguised his surprise at the sincerity of her words. "Won't you please come into the kitchen?"
She nodded again and Jim gestured at the open kitchen door, allowing her to enter first, followed by Maddie, Jim, then Spock. They sat at the table, except Maddie who bustled about, making a fresh pot of coffee and reheating the kettle for Spock's second cup of tea.
Ms Spangler sat her oversized canvas bag on the floor, extracting a padd. "Will it be all right if I record our conversation, Captain?"
"Sure," Jim agreed, glancing at Spock who nodded.
"It will make it easier for me to write the article," she said, studying him again.
He wondered briefly if he had spinach caught in his teeth but since he didn't eat spinach, that seemed very unlikely. In fact it occurred to him that they hadn't eaten at all yet. Not that it was at all relevant.
Maybe her contemplative expression was because she was trying to decide how best to begin the interview. He thought he might be right when she finally spoke again. "I know you've been interviewed countless times," she said, her voice more modulated. She had apparently realized that there was no need to try and be heard over the enemy fire.
"We've had our share," Jim said.
"Not everyone saves the Universe," she said evenly.
"Thankfully," Jim responded, looking at Maddie when she stood next to him.
"Would either of you care of a cup of fresh coffee?" Maddie asked after giving Spock his tea to his thanks.
"Yes, please, love," Jim agreed with a warm smile.
"Ms Spangler?" Maddie asked.
"Thank you, no. If I could trouble you for a glass of water, I'd appreciate it," she said.
"Certainly," Maddie agreed, getting Jim's coffee and Ms Spangler's ice water. "I'm going upstairs, sweetheart. Let me know if you need me," she said, kissing Jim's head.
"I will. Thanks," he replied, watching her walk out of the kitchen, taking some of her warmth with her.
"How long will you be in Iowa?" Ms Spangler asked Jim, sipping her water and studying him over the rim.
"We're not entirely sure," Jim told her. "We think until Thursday or Friday. Once we finish up everything that has to be done."
"I see," she said with a nod. "You are on leave?"
"Starfleet granted us bereavement leave," Jim confirmed.
"They granted it to you both?"
"I chose to accompany the Captain to Earth," Spock said, deciding that was enough of that particular topic. "I was granted leave to do so."
She nodded at that, tapping her padd lightly. "We know you're here on a sad errand, tying up your mother's affairs after her tragic death. How would you describe your mother's influence on your life and career?"
"Inconsequential," Jim replied.
She looked up at him with open curiosity. "You didn't join Starfleet in order to follow in her footsteps?"
"No I didn't," Jim said. He knew she was waiting for something more but there wasn't any more he had to say about that subject. That would undoubtedly make him come across as a cold-hearted bastard but he wasn't going to lie to her or her reading public.
She realized she wasn't going to get any more of an answer than that and took a different tact. "You originally came into the public eye in a pretty splashy way, saving Earth from the rogue Romulan Nero, for which we are all extremely grateful. What would you like to tell our readers about what you've been up to lately?"
"Exploring strange new worlds. Seeking out new life and new civilizations. Going boldly where no one has gone before," Jim said, seeing the dissatisfaction reflected once again on her face.
"Isn't that the mantra of Starfleet?"
"I suppose. Many of our missions are classified, Ms Spangler. We take the Starfleet motto as our general orders. Since we left Earth, we've discovered 21 new planets, of which 7 were inhabited. We did not visit any of those because they did not have warp capability and to do so would violate the Prime Directive. We've been to 28 planets that do have warp capability." He paused at the expectant look on Spock's face.
"31 planets, sir," Spock corrected.
"Of course," Jim laughed. "You would know precisely. Of those," he paused to look at Spock. "12 joined the Federation?"
"Yes sir. 12 joined. 4 more are considering it. 9 requested we leave and never return. You were injured on 7 of those away missions."
"You were injured?" Ms Spangler asked.
"Comes with the job," Jim said with a shrug. "Fortunately we have the best CMO in the fleet."
"CMO?" she asked purely for clarification, he was certain.
"Chief Medical Officer. Dr. Leonard McCoy," Jim explained.
"And the other 6 planets?" she asked.
"Two of those expressed mild interest in our presence," Spock said. "Four asked that we leave without overt violence of any type."
"That's our preferred way to be asked to leave," Jim said. "Politely and with no projectiles or weaponry."
"I can see how you would prefer that," she agreed seriously. "What would you say is the most rewarding part of being the captain of a starship?" she asked, reverting back to what Jim had taken to calling inside his head as 'reporter mood.'
"My crew. They are the best in Starfleet. We're younger than most and some would say less tried. But we are one cohesive unit, working seamlessly and sometimes without having to speak."
"Your crew is younger than the average," Ms Spangler agreed, glancing at her padd. "There's probably something to be said for all that youthful energy."
"I think so," Jim agreed. "We are smart, disciplined, skilled."
"As is obvious from the successful outcomes of the majority of your missions," she agreed. "What is the biggest challenge you face as Starfleet's youngest Captain?"
"The same challenges as faced by the more veteran Captains. Keeping the crew healthy and alive. Losing any member of the crew is losing a member of the family. We are well trained and cautious but that doesn't mean a whole lot when faced with a mob who thinks you are evil incarnate."
"That happens a lot?" she asked.
"The mobs? Or crew deaths?"
"Angry mobs," she clarified.
"Rarely," he said. "But it does happen. If our sudden appearance does not conform to their belief system, or confirms some of their superstitions, they believe we are their version of Satan. Those are the most dangerous planets to visit. Where there is a sudden and unexpected eruption of anger."
She nodded at that. "All of us in Iowa are proud to say that you're one of us. What are some of your fondest memories about growing up here in the Hawkeye State?"
Jim considered that question a moment, glancing over at Spock. What could he say in response to that? Lying never came to good. But neither would telling the truth in this instance. "The beautiful white winters," Jim said, those words the solemn truth. "I still miss snow. I visit snowy planets whenever I have the opportunity. I also miss the wide open spaces. As much as I love serving on a starship, there are times when it feels closed in. In Iowa, you never feel boxed it. You can see forever. Looking out of the windows of the Enterprise you can see forever too. But it's in a different way.
"I also miss the smell of Earth. The smell that gets in your clothes and hair. The bright sunshine on your face. And swimming in a pond on a hot summer day."
"I can see how you would miss Earth," she agreed with a smile that took years off of her face. "Have you visited many planets that resemble Earth?"
"We can only go on away-mission when we visit class M planets," Jim said. "So they all have some components of Earth. The atmosphere. A sun to provide light and nutrients. But I can honestly say that no planet we've visited is as beautiful as Earth. Probably a Human prejudice."
"That's really interesting," she said with a nod, glancing briefly over at Spock but not addressing the almost-expression on his face. "You are both a Starfleet captain, and the son of two Starfleet officers. What would you say to a young person here in Iowa who might be considering Starfleet as a career choice?"
"The usual – stay in school. Study hard. Take lots of math and science. Don't get in any serious trouble. Apply for Starfleet Academy as soon as you can. It's a wonderful experience. Exemplary instructors. Challenging work. And if you do go to Starfleet Academy, it helps if your best friend is a doctor," he laughed.
"So he can smuggle you on board?" she asked with a smile.
"It helps," Jim agreed.
"We are all grateful that he did so," Spock said evenly. Jim at least detected the faint humor in the words but was sure that Ms Spangler didn't hear it.
"Do you still think he cheated?" she asked Spock with a smile that softened her words.
"I am of two minds about then-Cadet Kirk's actions," Spock said. "I do not believe he should have changed the programming to the test. I also believe that he was correct in his assertion that he does not believe in no-win scenarios. His faith has saved many of our crew countless times."
"And Earth," Ms Spangler added with a nod.
"Indeed," Spock said.
"Do you think you cheated?" Ms Spangler asked Jim.
"Cheat is an awfully strong word," Jim said lightly. "I believe I evened the playing field. My point was that there is always an alternative if you try hard enough to find it."
"Or create it," Spock added, laying his hand on Jim's knee under the table and infusing Jim with warmth and affection. Which was welcome but distracting. Not that he minded especially.
"Yes," Ms Spangler said with a nod. "I think I speak for the citizens of Earth when I say how much I appreciate the fact that you didn't think facing Nero was a no-win scenario."
"It could have been," Jim acknowledged. "I regret that we couldn't save Vulcan. That's the true tragedy."
"It is," Ms Spangler agreed. "I have heard that Vulcan II is taking shape fairly well."
"It's slow going but they are making progress," Jim said. "The Federation is doing everything possible to make sure the colony flourishes."
"Would you consider requesting reassignment to the colony, Commander?" the reporter asked.
"My place is on the Enterprise," Spock answered. "My father is working with the resettlers. As are many experts on colony formation. I do not believe my presence would in any way enhance their efforts."
Ms Spangler could only nod at his words, looking from Spock to Jim and back to Spock. If her eyes held a new light of recognition, Jim chose to ignore it. At least until she asked her next question. "And all of our single readers would be upset if I failed to ask you this important question: Is Iowa's favorite son and most eligible bachelor still on the market, or have you found a special someone?"
Jim chuckled at that. "Thank you. It wasn't so long ago that parents warned their children about being seen in public with me. But as to your question, if I could keep my private life…private, I'd appreciate it."
"There is something you don't want to tell?" she asked with a laugh.
"Now, Ms Spangler. If I answered that question, you'd know the answer to the first one," he said with all of the considerable charm he had at his disposal.
"True. Can't blame me for asking," she said lightly, and little flirtatiously, he thought.
"It's your job. And my job is public enough without discussing my personal life too," he said with a smile that generally guaranteed he got what he wanted, even from Spock.
Ms Spangler nodded at that, turning off the recording and putting away her padd. "Thank you for your time, Captain. Commander. The Registry has assigned me to cover your mother's service. So I will see you again on Wednesday."
"Thank you," Jim said, standing as she did, Spock going out of the kitchen with them.
"The service is at 4:30?" she asked when they all stood on the porch.
"4:00," Jim corrected.
"4:00 o'clock, then," she said, holding out her hand to shake Jim's. "I'll see you on Wednesday."
"Certainly. You know how to get back, right?" he asked, opening the door for her.
"I do. Thanks again." She went across the drive and entered her car, driving off with a final wave.
When she was safely gone, Jim turned to Spock and laughed.
"Jim?" Spock said, one eyebrow raised in curiosity.
Jim just shrugged and went to the bottom of the steps. "You can come down, Maddie. She's gone." He could hear her vague snort and the sounds of her crossing one of the wooden floors. "Let's go back into the living room," Jim suggested, Spock automatically nodding in agreement.