Jim set the last box down on the table with a huff. He wasn't used to carrying heavy boxes, his more sedentary job demanding his attention at all hours. Now that he'd actually broken a sweat, he realized he'd missed this type of physical activity. Sure he walked, but it wasn't weightlifting, or running, or anything else that was physically demanding. He'd consider stepping it up a bit, as long as he didn't strain his arm. He'd hate to have a setback just as soon as he was getting his life back on track. Doctor Phelps, the other physician who'd been working the same night as McCoy, had told him to take it easy for a few weeks. Jim, knowing when to hold his tongue, said nothing of his move. It was bad enough that things hadn't gone so well with McCoy.
He didn't need two doctors judging him.
"Gaila?" he called out, peering through the doorway into the kitchen. "David?"
"In here, Jimmy," Gaila said, laughter quickly following.
It was a good sound echoing through his living quarters, considering all that they'd been through the past several days. David was still a little sore from the car accident that had taken his mother's life, and from what appeared to be a contusion on his right side, an imprint of a man's hand. Otherwise, he was in good physical health. Relatively. But Jim worried about his son's emotional well-being most of all, thoughts of David's emotional scars keeping him up at night. The funeral had been yesterday, with no sign of Carol's father, from whom she'd been estranged. Only her mother, who had given Jim her number. She, at least, had taken an interest in her grandson.
His school schedule was pretty full, but David was his first priority. He'd made sure, with Pike's help, that he would have time each morning and evening with his son. He'd also made appointments for both of them to see a counselor. That, however, had been at Pike's insistence. Though he'd been slightly annoyed by Pike's excessive fatherly concern, and let it be known that he'd hated the idea of stepping into a shrink's office, he'd silently thanked him. But Pike didn't have to know that, either.
Jim chuckled dryly. Once, a lifetime ago, he'd been even more devious. Once he'd lied to stay alive; this time his intentions were to thrive.
As long as he pushed most of the past aside, and didn't run into McCoy, the man who'd brought back a lifetime of sordid memories, his future held more hope than he'd ever thought was possible.
Fat chance on running into the doctor. Spock had hinted that McCoy wanted to apologize after he settled in, but Jim had merely shrugged and said no. Then, he'd overheard Pike say that one Leonard McCoy would be shipped out with him on the Enterprise once it was ready. That meant the doctor would be spending more time with the higher ups, and shorter missions until that time, which meant he wouldn't be frequenting the campus as much.
He smiled to himself and brushed the dust off his hands. For once, life was looking good. He headed towards the kitchen where he'd last seen them, a spring in his step. They'd been creating art while Jim had carried their meager belongings up from the bottom floor to the third. He'd ignored the lift. His past, hectic lifestyle and lackluster mindset was going to limit him in Starfleet if he wasn't careful. He also realized that he wanted muscle, not necessarily a thinner body. He'd have to work even harder to get that muscle.
He was no longer on Tarsus, forced to live a life on the run, at first gaining strength but then gradually losing both it and body fat.
Funny how a year on that planet had irrevocably damaged his soul for the past decade. He couldn't think through anything without reliving that part of his life, as much as he tried not to. There was also something about being on campus that brought it all out.
At least Pike had given him bigger things to chew on. He'd made him promise that he would consider the command track. Jim had a feeling that if he did more than just consider it, if he made up his mind to become a captain of his own ship, a vessel that was ideal for family life, then he'd have to be more physically fit than he was.
Part of him feared that he wasn't up to the challenge, not with everything else he had going on. Being a single dad? Who barely had enough money to get by? Who had a myriad of issues, including low self-esteem? A psyche twisted by famine?
His self-doubt wasn't deterring his best friend. Spock had promised to teach him meditation to help him with his depression, as well as with the poor eating habits that had worsened since his break up with Carol. For once, he'd agreed. It meant facing what happened on Tarsus again. Facing the challenges that starvation had imposed upon him. Facing the boy that he used to be, who was now a stranger to him because he'd run the other way, never to look back.
But, for David's sake, he'd do it. He'd do anything.
Maybe if he allowed his friends to help him more, he'd actually get somewhere in life instead of allowing the past to ruin his chances for a good life. At one time, he'd had no friends. Now, he had Spock. Uhura. Chekov. Gaila. Even Pike.
He entered the room and leaned against the counter instead of taking a seat, grinning at his son. David pressed a thumb three times on his paper, finishing what appeared to be three stick figures, painted in an array of colors.
"Daddy, wook!" David said proudly, lifting it up with both hands for him to see. His thumb made an incidental impression along the side, not that he noticed. In fact, Jim found the irregularity refreshing. Imperfect, just like he was. "I painting!"
He knelt on his knees beside his son, inspecting his painting like it was an original, famous piece hung at the Smithsonian. It meant far more to him than any painting in the galaxy, so it wasn't hard to enjoy David's creation. He never would have believed that David would take to him as well as he had. And yet, that's exactly what had occurred. He was the missing piece of his life, filling the hole in his heart.
"I see that," he said softly. "When it dries, how about we frame it and hang it on our wall? So you can see it right when you come in?"
David's eyes lit up, enhancing their blue, reminding him of his own preschool pictures. The ones his mother had kept under her pillow each night, thinking he never knew.
"Weelwey?" David whispered.
His son's small voice tugged at his heart.
"You bet, slugger," Jim said, ruffling David's hair.
"Weel Mommy see it?"
Gaila sucked in a breath.
Jim pressed a kiss to David's forehead to hide his emotion. "I'm sure she will," he said breathlessly. "Now, go wash your hands. We might take a walk to get something to eat."
He made a mental note to stock the fridge before Gaila left for the day. As much as he wanted to avoid it, he couldn't any longer.
"Otay!" David bounded from the table at warp speed.
Jim blinked at the blur that was his small son. David was truly amazing. So amazing that he wasn't sure he even deserved his son. Just look at the mess he'd made of his life up until now.
Still, his heart continued to ache from the knowledge that Carol had kept him out of David's life for the past three years. At this moment, however, it was far less troubled, lightened by knowing that David was his to love, and be with every day, for the rest of his life. No matter what, he wouldn't leave him behind for the world. He'd find a position in Starfleet that would be conducive to his new life as a single dad.
"He's adorable," Gaila practically squealed behind him. "And I'm the lucky girl who gets to watch him three days a week."
He stood and turned to his new babysitter, Uhura's beautiful, Orion roommate. At first, he'd been a little hesitant at the offer. Gaila just seemed too bubbly and too damn happy to know that she wanted to babysit a small child, but Uhura had assured him that she would take care of David like he was her own son.
"You sure you can't manage five days?" he asked, holding his breath.
Starfleet's day care was exceptional, but he wanted David at home as much as possible, to give him a greater sense of security. At least this first year.
"Sorry, Jimmy." Gaila tugged on one of her curls, watching him thoughtfully. "I do know someone who is available for at least six months, working around his schedule, of course. But he's willing."
"You know someone?" Jim asked, his heart lurching. "Who?"
Gaila let go of the tendril. It bobbed up and down like a spring as she tapped her chin with a perfectly manicured finger. "You've met him already."
Jim frowned. "I really don't know who you're talking about."
The only people he'd met were other students, or faculty, and none of them had taken too much interest in him. And why would they? Sure, he was technically a genius. But he really was only a frumpy-looking cadet who minded his own damn business.
"Spock's bringing him by today," she said brightly, slipping out of her chair. She came around to Jim, suddenly embracing him, tickling his neck with her hair. "Jimmy, it'll be perfect."
She squeezed him tightly, kissing him on the cheek.
"Gaila," he gasped, feeling like he was surrounded by a pack of Orion females. "Can't...breathe…"
He couldn't think...
He breathed deeply, feeling a bit...tipsy. He vaguely remembered that Orions...something about Orion females…about...
Something.
"Wow, Gaila…" He moaned, wanting to melt into her body.
She gasped, relaxing in his embrace. "I'm sorry, I lost control of myself." She giggled. "Literally. Those pheromones…"
He clung to her. "That's what this is?"
She peeled herself from his grasp and threw him a wary look that he didn't quite understand when he pulled her back into his arms.
"Stay with me, Gaila," he whispered, nibbling at her ear.
The doorbell chimed, but the sound failed to penetrate his desire for Gaila.
She giggled, the curls around her face bouncing. "You better sit down, Jimmy. That's probably Spock, now. I really didn't mean…"
His doorbell rang again, interrupting her.
"Spock?" Jim asked, blinking. He twisted his head around, trying to find the door. "That must be...I better...I better...answer door…"
He turned to go, but swayed. Gaila caught him just in time. She took his arm and threw it around her shoulders.
"Oh, Jimmy," she said with a laugh, turning him toward the door, instead of the opposite way he'd been going. "Let me help you. I hope you forgive me when you come to your senses."
He snorted. "How could I not forgive you? You're going to babysit…babysit…" He looked at her, confused. "Let's go to bed."
This time, she snorted. "If you were yourself, I might take you up on your offer. You're a handsome boy, Jimmy, with so much to love. I know I'd just adore you. But, you aren't yourself, and your little boy is here, so I won't. But I still adore you."
"Uh-huh," he said, enjoying the sound of her vibrant voice as she talked.
She sighed. "But I will watch David for you today, just as I promised." She frowned. "Maybe I shouldn't answer the door just yet. They won't forgive me for this," she muttered.
"Who?" Jim asked loudly. "Spock?"
"Yeah, and…" Her voice trailed off as they stood in front of his door. "Jimmy…"
"Yeah?"
He tried to stand up straight, but she was too alluring. He leaned forward to sniff her neck.
She sighed and placed her hands on both of his arms, gently pushing him away. "Listen to me," she said, looking him in the eye.
"Okay," he laughed drunkenly.
"Whatever happens next, remember that it's for your own good," she said with a pert lift to her chin.
"Right."
She sighed. "Here goes," she said, and opened the door.
Jim stood in the doorway, ready to greet his guests with a warm courtesy that was influenced by Gaila's pheromones, only to stare, slackjawed, at the man who appeared. The very man who'd misjudged him.
McCoy solemnly stared back, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder and a suitcase in his hand. Jim's stomach flipped as he guessed the reason behind it. Spock stood right behind him, his expression hopeful.
Too shocked to speak, Jim made a small noise in his throat.
"Hello, Jim," McCoy said quietly.