Twenty One

Victoria picked up a paper plate and crumpled it up, tossing it into the garbage bag she was dragging behind her. As she bent down to pick up a plastic cup, the satin sash fell off her shoulder and pooled around her ankles in the grass. Groaning softly, she picked it up and hitched it back over her shoulder. The words "BIRTHDAY GIRL" were picked out on the pink material with silver sequins, matching the plastic tiara that was keeping her red curls out of her eyes. Mrs. Cope had told her to take the things off and put them away, but her father had also insisted that she clean up after her friends herself. So Mrs. Cope had gone inside to make dinner and Victoria had been given a trash-bag and twenty minutes to finish cleaning. She must look funny, Victoria mused to herself as she continued to pick up the rubbish littering her garden. Like Cinderella doing her chores in her pretty dress.

The sandpit was her last stop. She had told her father she was too old for one now and he could get rid of it, but he was busy and Mrs. Cope didn't want any builders coming to the house when he wasn't there. Victoria didn't think any of her friends had gone towards it with food, and her father had cordoned off the area with some sticks and an old tablecloth, but she poked her head behind it anyway in case there was any trash there.

Instead, what she saw made her eyes widen.

"Hello?" she asked softly. The little boy seated in her sandpit didn't look older than a few years, his lower lip jutted out in the tell-tale sign of a pout. He had soft, blonde hair, clear blue eyes, and was dressed in a slightly dirty pair of overalls. None of Victoria's friends had a little brother who looked like him, and she was sure she would have noticed if someone had brought a child along. Arms folded across his chest, he looked up at her defiantly. Victoria edged around the make-shift shelter and crouched down next to him. "Are you lost?" she asked gently.

He shook his head.

"How did you get here?" asked Victoria. She offered him a small smile, and saw his pout waver slightly. He looked like he wanted to smile back, but then started scowling again.

"I ran away," he declared.

"Oh," Victoria didn't know what to say. "Why?"

"Mommy left me and Uncle Rupert is mean," he rubbed his face aggressively, and Victoria winced at his small cry of pain as he got sand into his eyes.

"Here," gently, she pried his fingers off his face and wiped his eyes with the edge of her sash, cleaning the sand off his skin. His blue eyes were slightly bloodshot, but unnervingly clear as they surveyed her suspiciously when she was done. Smiling, she flicked his forehead teasingly. "What's your name, kid?"

He frowned. "Not telling. You're a stranger."

"Well, you're in my yard and it's my birthday," said Victoria genially. "And my name's Victoria. See, we're not strangers anymore."

He seemed to consider her logic before shrugging. "James Tiberius Kirk," he said. The long, old-fashioned name sounded adorable coming from his mouth.

"Aren't you Winona Kirk's son?" asked Victoria. James' eyes widened slightly at his mother's name. "You just moved here, right? Your house is right over there," she pointed over his head, at the old house that their neighbour Rupert inhabited. She remembered Mrs. Cope telling her that his sister had left her young son with him a few weeks ago.

"Yeah," he looked down and pushed at some sand moodily with his fingers. "Mommy's gone."

"She'll come back," said Victoria kindly. They sat in awkward silence for a moment. Victoria glanced at the little boy, only to see him looking up at her with eyes that were devoid of any positive emotion. She bit her lip. Standing up, she dusted some sand off her dress and held out her hand. "Do you want to come inside?" she offered. "Mrs. Cope can make you a snack and then we'll call your uncle so he knows you're okay. I'm sure he was worried about you."

"Uncle Rupert's mean," James' lower lip began to tremble, and Victoria winced. "I don't wanna go back."

"It's okay," soothingly, Victoria picked him up without invitation. She felt his small hands grip the sleeves of her shirt as he buried his face into her shoulder. "How about some cake and a glass of milk? Do you like chocolate?" still not looking up, James nodded. Victoria smiled. "Good, that's my favourite flavour."

Inside, Mrs. Cope almost dropped a serving-spoon when she saw Victoria enter with a little boy. When the situation was explained, however, the housekeeper's eyes softened and she patted James on the back gently. "It must be hard from him to be away from his mama," she said kindly. "I'll tell your father to give Rupert a call. Are you going to be okay keeping an eye on him, Tori?"

"Yes, Mrs. Cope," Victoria had already set James down on the dining-table and given him a plastic cup of milk. "Don't worry about us."

"Who knew you were so good with kids?" mused Mrs. Cope as she wandered out of the room.

James looked up at Victoria curiously. "You said your name was Victoria."

"It is," Victoria smiled. "Tori is my nickname."

"I like Tori," James smiled shyly, and Victoria couldn't help but smile back.

"You can call me Tori," she assured him.

James smiled wider. Before she could speak, her father strode into the room. "Winona's kid?" he asked briskly. He barely looked at the little boy. "Mrs. Cope can take him over, I'll call Rupert," he walked back out without a second glance.

Victoria felt James shrink into her side, and gave him a reassuring hug. "Mrs. Cope will take you back," she said, patting his knee. "I'll give you some cake for later, okay?"

"Okay," James sounded sad, and Victoria sighed quietly. When the cake was packed in a plastic box and Jim was about to be handed off to Mrs. Cope, however, he didn't let go of Victoria's hand. His eyes were wide and innocent when he looked up at her. "Can you come with me?" he asked.

"I don't think –" began Mrs. Cope, but Victoria had already gathered James up in her arms and was crossing over to the front door.

"We'll be okay, Mrs. Cope," said Victoria. She smiled down at the little boy in her arms. "Right, Jim?"

Jim Kirk grinned. "Right, Tori."

!

"Captain," Homer nodded respectfully as Jim strode into the laboratory.

Jim grinned. "Morning, Lieutenant. How is everyone up here?"

"Fine, sir. Dr. Woodville is in the sun-room."

Jim raised his eyebrows. "Now why would you assume I'm here to see her?"

"She did save your life just last week, sir," pointed out Homer. And then added, dryly, "Also, I heard her threatening to castrate you if you left sick-bay before Dr. McCoy discharged you, so I assumed you were friends."

Jim chuckled. "Well, if we weren't friends before we should be now, eh?" he indicated for Homer to walk ahead. "You think you can let me in there so I can have a word with her?"

"Of course, sir," Homer led him to the familiar panel, and entered the code. "Lieutenant? Captain Kirk is here to see you."

Victoria responded a few seconds later. "Thank you, Homer. Send him in but make him wear gloves."

"Gloves?" Jim frowned, but Homer didn't seem to find the request odd. He handed Jim a pair of latex gloves he had taken out of his pocket and unlocked the door, gesturing for him to go in.

"Don't ask," was all he said.

The sun-room was the same environment it had been the last time Jim visited. The artificial sun was pleasing against his face, and Victoria was once again seated on a work-bench in the middle of the garden, her eyes hidden behind large tinted goggles. She was picking up shards of something shiny with a pair of tweezers, and held up a free hand to indicate that Jim should be quiet.

"Hello," she said, finally putting down the tweezers and looking up.

Jim saw his own face reflected in the glass of her eye-wear and grimaced. "Take those off, Tori, you look like a bug."

"Thanks," Victoria snorted, but didn't remove them. "The sun gets really bright after a while, but its optimum temperature for this particular element. How are you feeling, Jim?"

"Fine," Jim waved away her concern. "Bones gave me a clean bill of health, I promise."

Victoria winced at something he said, but Jim wasn't sure what. Nevertheless, she smiled slightly. "I'm glad. And how's Spock?"

"I think he likes you now. He wants to have a meeting to go over some new science journal later in the week."

"Perfect," she sounded heavily sarcastic.

Jim waited for a few seconds, and then raised his eyebrows. "So?"

"So?" Victoria raised her eyebrows back. "You came to see me, remember?"

"You're not going to tell me what you and Bones talked about?"

"When?" her voice was sharp.

Jim blinked. "You were trapped together in a tunnel for hours, Tori. Didn't he have questions or anything?"

"No," Victoria busied herself with the shards of crystal once again.

"Are you sure?" persisted Jim. "He hasn't said anything to me about you, I thought you two had hashed it out."

"There is nothing to hash out," said Victoria simply. "He asked for the truth; you know I can't give that to him, and that was that. He was nice enough to fix my injuries, and I appreciate his help, but there's nothing more to it, Jim. I've done enough damage, honestly."

Victoria wasn't sure if it was the bitterness in her voice, the fact that her hands were shaking slightly as she continued to weigh the crystals on the machine in front of her, or even if it was because Jim Kirk knew her better than most people in her life, but when he made a move to yank the glasses off her face, Victoria let him. He saw her red, puffy eyes, bloodshot from two days of crying and three sleepless nights, and his expression darkened.

"I'll kill him," he said flatly.

"You won't," Victoria sighed. "Hey, sit down," she grabbed his arm and pulled him to sit next to her before he could walk away. "This isn't on him, Jim. He's the only one willing to tell me the truth here."

"And what is the truth?" demanded Jim. "He made you cry!"

"He didn't aim to make me cry," said Victoria patiently. "He just pointed out the kind of damage I can do. That's not his fault. It's mine."

Jim groaned. "Tori, what happened on the mission isn't your fault."

"You've lost three crew members, Jim."

"Tunnels collapsing and earthquakes are not things you can control."

"But I could have anticipated them!" insisted Victoria. Jim looked taken aback by the distress in her voice, and she took a deep breath to try and calm down, but she wasn't doing a good job of it. The emotions from the past few days had bubbled to the surface, and she was only glad no one but Jim was around to see her break down. "I'm smart, Jim. I'm good at my job, and I wanted to get involved in everything and help, but I was so terrified of blowing my cover that I let an unqualified ensign do a presentation that may or may not have left out key facts that could have allowed us to foresee what would go wrong on the mission!"

"The weight of the world isn't on your shoulders, Tori!" retorted Jim. "You're upset and you care and I get that, trust me if anyone should feel guilty it's me, but that's now how you survive this job. You know that, you taught me that!"

Victoria shook her head. "You're stronger than I could ever hope to be, Jim. I can't deal with loss the way you can, and you've protected me for too long. McCoy was willing to point out that people died last week, and he didn't do it on purpose but he had the right idea when he said he wanted me to stay away. I should stay away."

"Stay away?" Jim frowned. "Tori, you're on this ship, for better or for worse, and you're a part of my crew now. I'm not going to let you do something stupid."

"I know," Victoria grasped his hand and smiled sadly. "I know you'll never abandon me, kid, and I don't think I'd survive if I asked you to. But I can't let my actions affect any more people. I'm done asking for more interesting jobs, I'm done trying to get Spock to trust me. He doesn't trust me, and he shouldn't. Neither should McCoy. I won't have more blood on my hands, Jim. Consider this my resignation, for all intents and purposes."

"Tori, come on, I –"

"I'll do what I'm assigned, and nothing more. If anyone wants any help, you know where to find me, but the more I get involved the more dangerous this could get."

"It's space, Tori! It's dangerous by definition!"

"I shouldn't be the one putting people in danger," she snapped. "Jim, I'm not you. I never was. I can't deal with more loss, okay? Please, try to understand that."

Jim hesitated. He knew he could convince Victoria to go back on her decision, because he knew how much he owed her from the last mission. Even if she really did believe she was the reason it had gone wrong, it had also been righted by her. She had practically single-handedly saved everyone, and even though casualties were unfortunate, Jim knew they were unavoidable. Victoria hadn't been on a mission in years. Was it possible she had forgotten?

"We'll talk about this some other time," said Jim finally. "For now, you can work as much as you want, and spend as much time in your quarters as you prefer. Is that okay?"

Victoria sighed and put her glasses back on, returning to the crystals she had been examining before. "It is, thank you. I know you don't understand, Jim, but it's for the best."

"Okay," Jim ran a hand through his hair and stood up. "I have to go. Have dinner with me tomorrow?"

"I will," Victoria smiled. "Now go do some actual work."

Jim said goodbye and left the science deck, his mood considerably dampened. He knew Victoria's eyes would haunt him for the next few days – he had rarely seen her cry, even as a child, and it had thrown him off completely to see how upset she was. Even though the mission probably had a lot to do with her mood, that wasn't the only thing that was wrong. He knew she was sugar-coating McCoy's words. His friend was rough around the edges, and harsh on a good day, so Jim couldn't imagine what he'd said to Victoria when he was angry and hurting.

Fortunately, he didn't need to imagine for long. With the typical impulsiveness he was known for, Jim paused on his way up to the bridge and patted his shoulder comm., making a decision he hoped he wouldn't regret. "Kirk to McCoy."

"McCoy here."

"Bones, you free for lunch?"

"Its four thirty, Jim."

"Great! Meet me in my quarters."

"What do you –" Jim cut him off, changing directions and determinedly heading towards his room. Bones was wrong, and he'd make him see it. It was a risky plan, and it could backfire in so many ways, but it was the only plan he had, and he needed to do something now. room. Bones was wrong, and he'd make him see it. He owed Victoria that much, at least.

And if it worked, she'd feel better, and he could get that haunting image of her bloodshot eyes out of his mind.