Hello, lovely people! Yes, this is a filler-y chapter but I like to sprinkle in hints of plot points here and there, and trust me the next one is an update you do NOT want to miss!

Thank you for all the lovely reviews, if you're a guest reviewer I can't reply to you but just know I appreciate you all and love reading your comments! I hope you enjoy this one - the slow burn is agonising, yes, but I promise it's worth the wait!

Thirty Nine

The thumping on the door was loud, and persistent. Squinting at the clock on her bedside table, Victoria groaned. "Computer, who the hell is at the door?" she asked hoarsely. She had barely slept for two hours, and was due back in the lab in the next three.

"Visitor identified as Captain Kirk."

Jim? Frowning, Victoria threw off the covers and padded to the door, her exhaustion forgotten. Turning on the lights, she waited for the doors to slide open and squeaked in surprise as Jim practically fell across the threshold when they did. Panicking, she caught him before he hit the floor. His eyes were closed. "Jim?" she practically screamed. The door slid shut as she dragged him into the room, and he made a noise that sounded like a grunt. "Are you okay?" she demanded. As his head lolled against her shoulder, she slapped his face. Hard.

"Ow," groaned Jim. His eyes still didn't open. "M'awake, Tori."

"What are you doing here?"

Jim didn't answer again. Victoria felt the panic rise in her throat again until Jim sighed, and the unmistakable smell of alcohol filtered into her nostrils. He wasn't injured; he was just drunk.

"Oh, Jim," Victoria sighed. "It's the middle of the night."

"Sorry, Tori," Jim mumbled into her shoulder. His arms were loosely wrapped around her waist and he patted her back, as if she was the one in need of reassurance. "Promise I didn't mean to wake you."

Shaking her head, Victoria helped him to the sofa, where he collapsed with a low groan. Hands on her hips, she frowned down at him and tried to channel whatever severity she could into her voice – which was difficult, because it was four in the morning and she had flying pigs patterned on her pyjamas. "This is completely unacceptable behaviour for a starship captain, Jim. You cannot report for duty when you're drunk."

"I'm not on shift today. Or tomorrow. Took the days off," he slurred, waving a hand dismissively. "M'not that irresponsible, Tori."

"Did you really decide to finish the last of the hooch I gave you in one sitting?" she asked. "You know I can't make you any more in the middle of space."

"I know," Jim nodded seriously. The sudden movement, however, made him wince, and he pressed a hand to his forehead in pain. "Oh, damn," he groaned. "I forgot about Bones."

"Did Leonard get you drunk?" Victoria asked incredulously.

"No!" Jim snorted. "As if he can think about anything except you these days. Well, that and his stupid research. He's in surgery. Told me to start without him. A long time ago."

"I'm going to ignore the first part because you're pathetic, and I think you spilled most of the booze on yourself," said Victoria. "You want to tell me why you decided to take two days off just to drink?"

Jim squinted up at Victoria. "Check your calendar."

Victoria frowned. "What?"

"The date. Check the date, Tori." When Victoria continued to look confused, Jim fished around in his pocket for his comm, and shoved it at her. "See?"

It took her a second to register the glowing numbers on the screen, and she grimaced. "Oh, honey, I'm so sorry. I completely forgot."

"S'alright," Jim shrugged dismissively, but his face was pulled into a familiar expression of indifference that made Victoria's heart hurt. "Kind of wanted to forget about it myself."

"I know," Victoria sank down onto the sofa next to him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "Happy birthday, Jim."

"Thanks, Tori," Jim rested his head on her shoulder. "Some birthday, huh?"

"You turning up drunk on my doorstep on your birthday has been our tradition for way too long," sighed Victoria. "Did you –"

"Don't say it."

"– call your mom?" she asked, ignoring the interruption. Jim groaned and made to stand up and walk away, but Victoria tightened her grip, and he was still too drunk to fight her off.

"No," he answered reluctantly. "But I'll do it. Later."

"Was Leonard going to make you call her?"

Jim snickered. "I can't believe he lets you call him Leonard."

Victoria rolled her eyes. "I'm not calling him that atrocious nickname, Jim. Well?" she demanded. "Was he?"

"He does it every year," admitted Jim. "Don't know about this year. He's distracted. Maybe he forgot."

"Why is he distracted?" Victoria couldn't resist asking.

"Why don't you ask him?" Jim smirked again, and Victoria pinched his arm. He yelped. "Jeez, sorry! I just meant if you're friends –"

"We are friends."

"– then you should ask him," finished Jim. He hiccupped. "Damn it, and he has my hangover remedy."

Victoria sighed. "Give me your comm." Jim handed it over without argument, and Victoria tapped out a message. When it was sent, the screen automatically changed to recently called numbers, and she raised her eyebrows at what she saw. "Jim?"

"Hmm?"

"Who's Carol?"

"What?" Jim practically squeaked, and Victoria watched in amusement as he snatched the comm from her hands and tossed it onto the table, glaring at the device like it was personally whispered Carol's name into Victoria's ear. "No one," he said firmly. Then he hiccupped again.

"You've called her fifteen times," pointed out Victoria. "She obviously isn't no one."

"She didn't pick up," said Jim. He rested his head back onto her shoulder, his voice sullen. "She's no one."

"Jim, we're in the middle of unchartered space and it's an ungodly hour even here. There could be a perfectly logical explanation for her to not answer the phone."

Jim snorted. "Since when is love logical, Tori?"

Victoria's eyes widened. "Jim, what are you –"

"I'm tired," he interrupted. Grabbing a cushion from behind Victoria, he unceremoniously tossed it onto her lap and rested his head on it without invitation. Recognising that he didn't want to talk about Carol – and making a mental note to look up that name in the Enterprise records the first chance she got – Victoria ran her fingers through Jim's hair soothingly, her thoughts drifting back to the last time she had seen Jim on his birthday.

Six years ago

Jim heard her before he saw her. In the eerie quiet of the Riverside holding-cell he had become a regular occupant of, the clacking of high heels against the cracked tiles of the floor was unnervingly loud. Victoria wasn't running, or even walking faster than normal – her pace was leisurely, because she was a regular too. This was the fourth time in as many months that Jim had called her, and the conversation had gone the way it always did.

"Hey, Tori."

"Hey, kid. What's up?"

"I'm in trouble."

"Where?"

"Home."

"I'll be right there."

The on-duty officer stood up from behind his desk, his chair scraping against the floor. Jim didn't open his eyes, merely stayed lying on the bench, waiting for the door to open. This officer was new; he clearly didn't know the drill.

"Can I help you, ma'am?" he asked.

"I'm here for Kirk," said Victoria. "How much is his bail?"

"Kirk?" the officer sounded confused. "He – there's no bail yet. He needs to stay overnight until we process him tomorrow morning. You can come back –"

"I'm afraid I won't be coming back, so he needs to leave with me now," interrupted Victoria. There was the sound of something heavy landing on the officer's desk, and the clinking of credit chips. "That should be enough. Shouldn't it?"

"Ma'am, I don't know what –"

"Let me make this simple for you, officer. I just took an emergency shuttle from San Francisco, I'm tired, and I'm not leaving without Jim Kirk. You can either accept those credits, open the holding cell and hand him over, or I'm going to sit here all night and systematically call every person who has more authority than you in Iowa until I reach Starfleet, which shouldn't be a problem because my name is Victoria More, and my father is an admiral. So, I'll ask you again. Are those credits enough?"

Jim's lips twitched. She sounded angry; he must have called her when she was busy. But she'd still come. Victoria always came.

The doors to the holding-cell slid open, and the on-duty officer muttered something under his breath as he entered it and undid the restraints on Jim's wrists. Once he was free, he opened his eyes and sat up, grinning at the redhead standing just outside the cell with her arms folded across her chest. "Hello, beautiful."

"Let's go, Jim," was all she said. Obediently, he sprung up off the bench and picked up his jacket, swinging it over his shoulders. He gave a mock-salute to the grumpy officer before following Victoria out of the station. Her father's old truck was the only car outside it, and Jim spotted a small suitcase in the backseat as he climbed into the front. Victoria got into the driver's side wordlessly and, before starting the car, turned and smacked him across the head.

"Ow!" Jim rubbed the spot on his temple where her ring had connected with his skin. "What was that for?"

"That's your second arrest this month!" snapped Victoria. "What was the reason this time?"

"No reason," grunted Jim. "Some guys were pissing me off."

"Next time, I'm leaving you to rot in jail, Jim Kirk."

"You said that last time," Jim couldn't resist reminding her. "You still came."

Victoria glared at him and started the car, pealing out of the station's parking lot and racing down the street. There weren't any cars on the road at four AM, which was why Victoria blew past three stop signs, her hands clenching the steering wheel harder than necessary. Jim bit back the desire to tell her to slow down and gulped audibly, his eyes flickering between the speedometer and the empty road in front of the car. After five minutes, however, the car slowed to a normal speed, and Jim let out a quiet breath of relief. Without looking away from the road, Victoria released one hand from the wheel to hit him again.

"Tori!" Jim swatted her hand away and glared at her. "Now what?"

"If you don't need a reason to start bar-fights on a monthly basis, I don't need one to hit you."

The car slowed even further and Jim realised they were turning the corner of her house; there was a light on in the kitchen window, and a shadow was moving across it. Mrs. Cope was awake too.

Jim sighed. "Tori, come on. You know why."

Despite herself, Jim saw her expression soften. As the car pulled into the driveway, the dashboard blinked as the numbers on the digital clocked changed. Victoria stared at it for a few seconds. "That doesn't mean I approve," she said finally.

"But you understand, don't you?"

Victoria didn't need to answer. Smiling, she reached out a hand again, and Jim braced himself for another slap. Instead, she ruffled his hair affectionately. "Come on," she said, shutting off the engine. "We'll pick up your bike in the morning."

"Hey," said Jim, as she opened the door. Victoria turned back to look at him questioningly. "Thanks," he said. "For coming."

"Always."

!

Leonard frowned at the message on his comm. He was late to meet Jim, and had been concerned about the captain until he had seen the strange message waiting for him on his comm after he was done with surgery. 251. The only thing he could think of that corresponded to that number was Victoria's quarters. So, Jim hadn't decided to stay alone after all.

"I'm heading out," announced Leonard, poking his head into Nurse Riley's office. She stifled a yawn behind her hand and waved him away, already getting started on paperwork. Pausing only long enough to grab a few choice hyposprays – if he knew Jim, the captain was definitely not sober – he left Sickbay. In the turbolift, he debated calling Victoria once, just to make sure he wasn't misinterpreting the message; it was almost five in the morning, and if Jim wasn't there, he'd be waking her up for no reason. But then again, the comm could wake her up too. Before he had come to a decision, he found himself standing in front of her door, and the blinking green light on the control panel indicated that the door was unlocked. Pressing the button, he took a deep breath and walked in through the open doors.

"You're kiddin' me," he said flatly, as soon as he stepped inside.

Victoria smiled from her spot on the sofa, and waved. "Morning," she greeted. "I believe this is yours?" she patted Jim's head, which was resting on a cushion on her lap. The captain was asleep, and snoring.

"He woke you up?" demanded Leonard. "I told him to wait."

"Don't sound so surprised. Who do you think he woke up on his birthday before he met you?" Victoria rolled her eyes. "At least he didn't get arrested this time. We're lucky."

"Sure," muttered Leonard. He dropped the hysosprays onto the coffee table and knelt down next to the sofa, shaking Jim roughly. "Hey, kid, wake up."

"Stop," said Victoria softly. She caught his wrist before he could shake Jim again. "Let him sleep. Can you help me get him to the bed?"

Leonard sighed. "I'll do you one better," he said. Extracting his wrist from her grip, he pulled Jim up and threw his arm over his shoulder, half-carrying and half-dragging his friend to Victoria's bedroom. Jim didn't even stir, as Leonard had known he wouldn't. Victoria's bed was still unmade, and Leonard unceremoniously threw Jim onto it. When he turned around, Victoria was leaning against the doorframe, her eyebrows raised. She was also still in pyjamas – an oversized t-shirt and shorts, with what looked like pigs with wings on them. Trying not to stare at her bare legs, Leonard went back to get the hyposprays and a glass of water from the other room, injecting the former into Jim's neck and placing the latter on the bedside table.

"You've done this before," noted Victoria from behind him.

Leonard shrugged. "We were room-mates at the Academy. And Jim's always liked his drink."

"So do you. I doubt he'd tuck you in and give you a hangover remedy if you overdid it at a bar, though."

"I never overdid it," replied Leonard automatically, then turned to glare at her. "And I ain't tucking him in."

"Don't worry, it's cute," Victoria smiled. "A little annoying, of course, but cute. Come on, let him sleep." She pushed herself off the doorframe and headed back into the other room. Leonard followed her.

"Why's it annoying?" he asked, sinking down onto her sofa tiredly.

"No reason," she answered, too quickly. "Coffee?"

"Please," Leonard nodded. "You goin' back to sleep?"

"No point, I have to be up at six," Victoria shrugged and came to sit next to him, handing him one of the mugs in her hand. As he took a sip, she added, "Also, Jim's in my bed, and I know he kicks."

Leonard choked, and Victoria burst into laughter. She thumped him on the back as he coughed, still laughing when he gave her a half-hearted glare. "Not funny."

"Kind of funny," smiled Victoria. "And true. We had lots of sleepovers. Then he turned ten and decided he was too old for cuddles."

"Thank god for that," he muttered. Victoria laughed again, and he felt himself start to smile at the sound. Hoping she hadn't noticed, he took another sip and looked away, staring at the coffee table littered with PADDs, and what looked like Jim's comm.

"Can I ask you a question?" asked Victoria suddenly. When he nodded, she said, "Who's Carol?"

Leonard choked on his coffee again. "What?" he spluttered. "How'd you know about Carol?"

"Jim's called her tonight. A lot of times. He wouldn't tell me who she is though."

"He called her?" Leonard was surprised. "Huh. Don't think they've talked since she requested a ground assignment instead of stayin' on with the ship."

"So they were dating?" pushed Victoria. "Is she the blonde I saw at Ben and Sulu's wedding? What's she like?"

"Aw, hell, darlin', don't make me talk about it," Leonard groaned. "It's like rattin' your friend out to his mother."

"Hey!" Victoria shoved him indignantly. "Do I look like his mother to you?"

"Well, if you did, it'd make my life real awkward," Leonard couldn't resist saying.

Victoria rolled her eyes, but her cheeks turned pink, and he congratulated himself silently on making her blush. "Well, think of me as a concerned party," she suggested. "Come on, Leonard, give me something."

"There was definitely somethin' there, between them," said Leonard reluctantly. "But I don't know the story, and he didn't tell me. You should ask Jim about her."

"He said she was no one. And then he said love isn't logical."

Leonard smirked. "Well, that answers your question, doesn't it?"

"Huh." Victoria folded her arms across her chest and stared ahead thoughtfully. "I didn't think Jim would ever fall in love."

"You don't know that he has."

"Oh, please," Victoria scoffed. "Jim Kirk doesn't throw around words like love lightly, no matter how drunk he is. And while I've never been the healthiest example when it comes to relationships, I'm sure even he's mature enough to know when he has feelings for someone."

"You tellin' me you set bad examples for him growin' up?" asked Leonard amusedly. "I can't see that happening."

"Not bad examples," said Victoria defensively. "Just… I guess I didn't set very many examples at all when I was in high school. And I didn't exactly send him a postcard every time I went on a date in college, or at the Academy. And now I wouldn't know the first thing about –" abruptly, she cut herself off, and cleared her throat.

Leonard smiled grimly, but decided to change the subject. There was no point talking about this; not yet, anyway. "So," he said casually, as if the last sentence hadn't just come out of Victoria's mouth. "You know why he showed up here, huh?"

Victoria gave him a grateful smile. "His birthday's always been a sore subject," she said. "When he was a kid we'd throw him a party, try to distract him, but the older he got, the more he tried to find his own distractions. And eventually, he stopped calling me to bail him out."

Leonard didn't need to ask if she meant that literally; he knew enough about Jim's past in Iowa to guess that Victoria had probably walked into a police station for him for than once. "I keep him out of trouble up here," he said. "I didn't think he'd wake you up, though."

"I don't mind," said Victoria. "Jim's more than just my neighbour's kid."

"And then you say you ain't like his mother."

"I'm too young to be his mother, thank you very much, but that doesn't mean I don't feel responsible for him," said Victoria. "Didn't he ever tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"My dad and his mom grew up together, down the road from each other. Winona's my godmother," said Victoria, to Leonard's surprise. The expression on his face prompted her to explain. "After Jim's dad died, Winona cut off from everyone and left Jim with her brother, and after my mom died we moved back into my dad's old family home. They both worked a lot, and my dad didn't take a ground assignment until he remarried and I was in college, so it was just me and Jim, his uncle Rupert and my old housekeeper, Mrs. Cope. I've been the only family Jim's had ever since he can probably remember. Of course I always bailed him out. Who else was he going to call?"

Leonard opened his mouth to answer – what he wanted to say, he wasn't sure. But before he could, they heard a crash from the bedroom, and what sounded like Jim groaning. Victoria got to her feet, a worried look already on her face, but Leonard beat her to the door. The glass of water he'd left on the side was on the floor and broken, but Jim was still snoring, his arm now hanging off the side of the bed.

"It's fine, he's just movin' in his sleep" said Leonard, pushing the broken glass to the side with his shoe. He checked Jim's pulse, and rolled his eyes. "And apparently he can sleep through anything." He picked up the second hypospray he'd brought and administered it, tossing it back onto the table when he was done.

"What's that one for?" asked Victoria.

"He won't throw up in your bed with this one," answered Leonard. "The first one was just for the headache."

He heard Victoria mutter something under her breath in response, but it was too quiet for him to hear. When he turned around and smiled at her, she bit her lip. "So he's okay?" she asked, suddenly avoiding his eye and staring at her feet.

"He's fine," said Leonard dismissively. "You okay? You were mumbling to yourself."

"Was I?" Victoria ran a hand through her hair tiredly. "Sorry. It's not you. It's me."

"What about you?" he asked curiously. Victoria shrugged and turned away, heading back to the sofa, but he crossed the room quickly and caught her wrist. She froze. "Hey," he lowered his voice, and saw goosebumps erupt across her arm. "You wanna talk?"

Victoria groaned. "Stop it. You're making this way too hard."

"What?" he asked in confusion. "I just asked if you wanted to talk."

"Exactly! You always want to talk!" She whirled around and poked him in the chest with her index finger. "And you're tucking Jim in –"

"– I told you I'm not –"

"– you rushed over here after spending god knows how long in surgery –"

"– I was supposed to meet him anyway, what do you –"

"– and you keep looking at me!"

"You're talkin' to me!" he insisted. "Where am I supposed to look?"

"No, I mean you're looking at me," she insisted. "You're looking at me like you looked at me that day! Like you… you know what I mean! And it's making this really, really hard!"

"It's ain't exactly fun for me either," he snapped, finally losing his temper. "You wanted me to talk to you, remember? You were upset when you thought I didn't want to! Now I'm lookin' at you, and talkin' to you, and you don't like the way I'm doin' it? What the hell am I supposed to do, close my eyes every time you smile at me?"

"No, I know, I just –" she faltered under his glare, and Leonard immediately felt guilty for his outburst. "I'm sorry," she whispered, tangling her fingers together anxiously. "You're right, of course, this is my fault, it's not –"

"Stop," he interrupted her rambling. Ignoring the rational part of his brain that was telling him not to push her, he took a step forward and tugged at Victoria's hands, breaking her grip. And just like the last time he'd touched her, their fingers intertwined together automatically, and he realised it was getting harder and harder to ignore how effortless it felt. "You don't have to defend me," he continued quietly. "What I just did… I just yelled at you, darlin'. That was way out of line. I'm the one who should be sorry."

Clearly, Victoria didn't understand that concept. "No, you have every right –" she began earnestly.

Leonard interrupted her again. "I don't need you to defend me when I screw up," he said quietly. "I shouldn't have yelled. I'm sorry I did it. You can either forgive me, or kick me out. But stop rationalisin' it."

"That's not what I'm doing."

"Yeah, it is," he smiled grimly. "I don't get to talk to you like that, darlin'. No one does. And if someone tries, you need to tell 'em to back off."

Victoria stared at him for a few seconds, her hand still loosely held in his. Leonard stared back calmly, for once not wary of her reaction. He was right, and he knew it; and Victoria knew it too, at least deep down.

"This counts as therapy," she said finally, and her words made Leonard laugh. She smiled wanly and squeezed his hand before letting go. "It's been a long night. We're both tired. This is – it's fine, really. I'm not rationalising your behaviour. I'm just saying I get it."

Leonard sighed. Too tired to argue – and painfully aware that it wasn't his place – he nodded and leaned back against the wall, folding his arms across his chest. "At least you got a few hours of sleep," he offered, trying to change the subject again. "I was elbow-deep in someone's guts for six hours tonight."

Victoria winced. "How glamorous," she said, and Leonard smiled at the sarcasm in her voice. She walked back to the sofa and sank down onto it, tucking her legs under her and offering him his mug again. Seeing no indication that she wanted him to leave, he sat down next to her silently and accepted it. He needed to be back in Sickbay soon, but not yet.

Victoria picked up her own half-empty mug and turned it over in her hands thoughtfully before suddenly asking, "How's Joanna?"

Leonard was surprised at the sudden change of subject. "She's fine," he said. "My mom saw her a few days ago and sent me an email."

"So you're still not allowed to see her, but your family can?" Victoria frowned. "That sounds –"

"Insane, yeah."

"You need a better lawyer."

"My current lawyer told me I'm an idiot for signing those papers in the first place and there's nothin' he can do to go against Pam's conditions," snorted Leonard. "I don't much trust 'em after that."

"No, I don't either," agreed Victoria. "But she's okay? Joanna, I mean."

"She's fine. She's tough," he smiled, even though just saying those words made him unbearably sad. "Kids shouldn't have to be tough, though."

"No, they shouldn't," agreed Victoria. From the corner of his eye, Leonard saw her put the mug down on the floor, and twist her fingers together in what he now realised was an anxious habit of hers. Before he could ask her what was wrong, she had reached out and touched the sleeve of his free hand. Reflexively, he flipped his palm up and Victoria slipped her fingers through his. He turned to look at her, wondering what she was thinking; but she was merely smiling comfortingly, and he found himself feeling better already. "But tough kids turn out alright in the end," Victoria said softly.

Leonard thought of Jim, whose snores could still be heard from the other room. If there was ever a child who had every reason to go bad after the life he'd led, it was Jim Kirk; but he hadn't, although a big reason for that was clearly the woman sitting next to him holding his hand. And then Leonard remembered the last time he'd seen his daughter, when she had clung to him and refused to let him leave despite the fact that he blamed himself completely for her current misery, and was constantly astonished that she didn't blame him too.

"Yeah," he said quietly, squeezing her hand. "They do."