Title: This Is No Holiday (3/3)
Author: klmeri
Fandom: Star Trek AOS
Pairing: Pike/Archer, Kirk/McCoy
Summary: Sequel to A Holiday Letter; Christopher Pike has been told he needs protection from the deadliest threat to the existence of single fathers everywhere: dating. His son, Jim, is his protector. Chris is not amused.
Previous Parts: 1 | 2

“What should I do? Try to talk to Jim again? But Jon hasn’t been on his best behavior either. The last thing I want is to seem like I’m blaming one of them more than the other. That’s just fuel for the fire. Damn. I just don’t know what to do, Porthos. Maybe I should beg for a weekend shift at work. Criminals are, by far, easier to understand.”

Exactly six blocks from the house, as if he has had enough of listening to this one-sided conversation, Porthos lies down on the sidewalk. For a moment, Chris fears the dog has expired.

He kneels beside the beagle, asking, “Are you okay, buddy?”

Porthos rolls an eye in his direction.

“Are you feeling bad? Where does it hurt?”

The dog blinks.

After running a hand along Porthos’ flank and checking his paws for something painful like cuts or burrs (Porthos gives no signs of discomfort at being touched), Chris gently lifts the dog to his feet. The beagle looks nonplussed at this change in his position and sits on his haunches so he can give Pike his droopiest expression.

“Better?” Chris says kindly, picking up the leash.

With a sigh that is eerily close to human, Porthos goes limp again in a graceful fold of limbs onto his side upon the sidewalk. Frowning, Chris picks him up and puts him back on his feet. Porthos lies down again. They repeat this exercise twice more until Pike gives up and just scoops the dog into his arms, valiantly ignoring the twinge in his back as he stands up.

“So this is why Jon carries you everywhere. You’re a spoiled dog, Porthos.”

Porthos’ grumble-grunt might mean so what? or this is what you get for making me walk farther than one-third of a mile. He clearly has no intention of easing Pike’s burden of his full body weight. If anything, the dog seems to be able to wield gravity to make himself heavier.

Chris tries for stern. “You’re going on a doggy diet.”

At that point he is fairly certain Porthos starts drooling on his arm on purpose.

The trip back to the house takes a lot longer than it would have if they had kept to a brisk walk. But Chris is slowly beginning to learn there is nothing brisk about Porthos: not his personality, not his habits, and most assuredly not his idea of the perfect pace.

Oh, to be a beloved pet, Pike thinks as he tries to lever open his fence’s gate with his foot and balance Porthos at the same time. Then he wouldn’t have to deal with all of this insanity that is his life. It would no longer be his problem, and his needs and his care a responsibility left up to someone else.

Before he can fall over, he sets Porthos down on the ground in the backyard. The dog wags his tail once and trots over to the flowerbed he has apparently designated as his favorite spot in the yard and relieves himself.

Chris hears the kitchen door open, followed by its screen door, and slowly rises from his crouch, mindful of his back muscles. He watches Porthos for a moment longer before glancing over at the young man lingering on the top step of the stairs.

“How’s Jon?”

At first it seems like McCoy might not answer. When he does, it’s not in the way Chris expects.

“You said you’d be in the kitchen. You left.”

That’s an accusation if Chris ever heard one. However, it isn’t Leonard’s business where he goes or what he does. “How’s Jon?” he repeats, brushing his hands on his pants to dislodge any dirt.

“I figure the idiot’s fine since he demanded a lollipop as a reward for good behavior like I’m his damned family pediatrician.”

That sounds like Jim, not Archer. Then again, Chris often wonders if age is the only difference between the two. “Porthos,” he calls to the dog inspecting a patch of mulch, “c’mon, let’s go in.”

Porthos steps out of the flowerbed and contemplates this order. Then he collapses onto his side.

Leonard starts to come down the stairs. “What’s wrong with him? Does he need a vet?”

Chris sighs as he stoops to pick up the limp beagle. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing—except for the fact that Jonathan raised him.”

“Point taken.” Leonard graciously holds open the screen door for Pike and Porthos. Only the twitch of the young man’s jaw hints that he is still upset with Chris.

Porthos pinwheels his legs when Chris tries to put him down in the kitchen, so it’s with a grim expression that Pike carries the dog with him through the house, intent on dumping him on his owner.

Luckily Jonathan is not far, sitting in the recliner in the living room, looking like he would rather be anywhere else. Chris starts to complain about Porthos but stops short, doing a double-take because opposite Jon is Jim sitting on the couch and also looking like he wants to be somewhere completely different. Both men have their arms crossed; both are frowning deeply.

Chris eases Porthos onto the carpet, afraid he has truly lost his mind and begun to hallucinate. Have they been… talking?

“What’s going on?” he asks, finally taking note of the third occupant of the living room.

Spock’s gaze remains fixed on Kirk and Archer. “Leonard and I have decided to implement one of the contingency plans we outlined during our car trip.”

Jim turns his frown in Spock’s direction. “Why would you be planning with Bones? I thought you begged to come along this weekend because you wanted to get out of the city?”

“Is that what he told you? I see,” Spock intones but doesn’t deign to speak further. At Pike’s back, Leonard doggedly keeps his silence.

Jon draws Chris’s attention by un-crossing his arms. “I think this is supposed to be some kind of calm-inspiring therapy but Cujo over there is killing the vibe.”

“How about you try and touch me, and we can find out whether or not I bite?”

“See what I mean?” Archer groans, giving Chris the distinct impression he is choking down a laugh. “I vote we initiate containment protocol. Clearly he’s turned rabid.”

Jim snarls.

“Jim,” Spock says, his tone soft but implacable, “you must calm your mind.”

Leonard slips out of Pike’s periphery vision to circle the back of the couch. “Yeah, kid. If you continue to respond, he’s gonna keep taunting you.” To Archer, he scolds, “Stop making things worse.”

Though Jim visibly makes an effort to restrain his response, he doesn’t look any less pissed.

Leonard reaches out to brush his hand against Kirk’s shoulder. “Pike’s back. Isn’t that enough?”

Startled, Chris wonders if they had been looking for him.

“Where was he?” Jim almost demands, sparing a sharp glance in his father’s direction.

“Just out walking the dog.” Leonard pauses. “…But if he had taken off into the wild blue yonder, could you blame the man?”

Some of Jim’s anger retreats as he shrinks slightly into the couch.

Worried that his son looks so unhappy, Chris takes a seat on the unoccupied side of the couch, suspecting his presence could make a world of difference to Jim. But unfortunately he knows he has to keep some distance between them or he might give the impression he’s siding with the boy. And he simply can’t support Jim’s animosity toward Archer.

With an aggressive sigh, Leonard sits down between Jim and the couch arm, announcing to the room at large, “All right, I call this session to order.”

“Not funny, Bones.”

“You know what’s not funny, Jim? You beating up on somebody because you think your dad isn’t capable of handling his own problems.”

Jon raises his hand to interject. “I’d like to protest that statement. I am not a problem.”

Leonard isn’t amused. “You’re arguing against your own defense.”

Jonathan shrugs. “Hey, if the facts are wrong, they’re wrong.”

“You’re an idiot, Archer.”

Jon’s eyes narrow. “You seem to have forgotten I still have the authority to arrest people who annoy me, Sour Patch. And you’re moving up on that list pretty quick.”

Jim sounds fierce enough to cause a shiver down Pike’s spine when he says, “Don’t touch him.”

Leonard puts a hand to his face. “Here we go again. For fuck’s sake, Jim…. I don’t need protection from the likes of that mongoose, and neither does anybody else.”

Jim’s “Bones?” is uncertain, almost hurt.

“Actually,” Spock joins in, “I believe Leonard speaks correctly in this situation, Jim. Your hostility is disproportionate to the level of Archer’s enmity.”

“In English, Spock,” Leonard complains.

Spock studies McCoy for a moment, then returns his gaze to Jim. “Sheriff Archer is, as some would say, a ‘small fish’.”

Jon looks pained. “I think I’ve just been insulted.”

Chris tamps down on the urge to laugh. “Jon, be quiet.”

“And, being quiet now.” The man mimes zipping his mouth shut and tossing the key to Pike.

“You don’t understand, Spock,” Jim rolls over Jon’s joking tone as if he hadn’t spoken. After dragging a hand through his short hair, Jim gives the strands at his scalp a vicious tug. “Shit, can we just get this over with?”

Leonard shifts to face Kirk, the look in his eyes suddenly sober. “Contrary to how it seems, kid, this isn’t a therapy session or a court trial. It’s an intervention.”

Jim’s impatience melts back into anger. “I don’t need an intervention.”

Leonard lays a hand on Jim’s right knee. “No, your father does—because of you.”

Chris cannot help but stiffen. “Leonard, that’s a little harsh.”

“Even if it is, Mr. Pike, he needs to hear the truth. Otherwise you’ll spend the rest of your days miserable and alone until Jim wises up and realizes what he’s done.”

“I am not ruining my dad’s life!”

“I didn’t say that, Jim. I meant you’re putting him in a difficult position, and it’s not your right to do that.”

“So what, Bones… my opinion doesn’t count here?”

Chris leans forward in his earnestness. “Jim, of course your opinion counts.”

Jon breaks his silence to throw in, “It counts more than you know.”

“Then why are you still here?” Jim snaps at the man.

“Because the reasoning behind your actions is unclear.” When Jim whips his head around, startled, Spock meets Jim’s look with an even stare. “Why are you against any affiliation between your father and Sheriff Archer?”

“What Spock asked,” Leonard agrees.

A muscle jumps in Jim’s cheek but he says nothing.

Allowing his son to stay stubbornly silent will place them back at square one. It’s easier than Chris expected to slip into the role of a detective trying to grasp a perp’s motive, despite the personal nature of the discussion. “What is it you think is going on, Jim, that you have to be against us?” He feels Archer’s eyes land on him, his approval almost palpable.

“C’mon, you can say it,” Jim’s boyfriend encourages.

Jim lowers his elbows to his thighs and leans his weight forward. “You won’t believe me.”

So close. All Jim needs now is the right kind of push. Chris knows just how to do that. “When has that stopped you before?”

Jim twists at the waist in order to look at his father. “If he hurts you, he hurts me—and Archer’s got a lot of reasons to want revenge. We have a history. Did he tell you that?”

“Yes.”

Jim seems surprised to have the confirmation but that surprise quickly fades. “Then you know it’s too late to change things.”

Chris looks at Archer, understanding for the first time he can’t speak on Jon’s behalf.

But Jonathan is already way ahead of him. The older man leans forward, intent on Kirk, his posture an unconscious mimicry of Jim’s. “Does that mean you’re sorry?”

Jim says, “Yeah,” then seems to hear himself and changes that admission to a challenge of “Maybe. Not because of you.”

Jon snorts softly and relaxes. “Good enough for me.”

Jim is silent for a moment then looks suspicious. “That can’t be it. I don’t believe you.”

“How come?”

“This is your chance, man. What happened to ‘I’ll get you, Kirk, even if I have crawl over fire-hot coals from Hell to do it’?”

Jon looks sheepishly at Pike. “I… might’ve said that.”

Somehow Chris is not shocked. “Do I want to know why?”

“Let’s just say there’s a good reason I’m so obsessed with checking my uniform before I put it on.” Jonathan shudders.

Chris turns to his son, eyebrows raised. “What did I tell you about tormenting law enforcement?”

Jim scoots closer to McCoy. “It wasn’t my fault.”

“We’re going to have a long talk when this is over, Jim. A very long talk.”

For some reason, Jim turns to his boyfriend.

Leonard rolls his eyes. “Don’t look at me, doll face. I’m not the one with the disreputable past.”

Jon leaps from his chair with a shout of triumph and does a fist pump. He points emphatically at McCoy then says gleefully to Pike, “See???”

Chris warns him, “I’ll still punch you.” To the confused Spock, Kirk, and McCoy, he signals that they should ignore Jonathan’s childish antics and carry on.

Jon drops back into the recliner with a gusty sigh. “So we’re good? I can’t believe this is all it was, Kirk. Though admittedly, I am passing up a golden opportunity here. Who knows, maybe this very conversation is part of my master plan.”

Chris covers his face with his hands. “Oh my god. Jon.”

Jim asks his father, “Why are you dating this douche bag?”

“Good question, son. I might have to reconsider that.”

Jim’s entire countenance brightens. “Really?”

Chris winces. “Honestly? No. I like him. Well, sometimes.”

Leonard drapes an arm across Jim’s shoulders. “Sorry, kid. Not everybody has good taste.”

“Yeah,” Jim gripes, “but I thought at least my dad would. Archer—man, that’s just wrong.”

Jon tilts his head up to observe the ceiling.

“Just so we’re clear, I still don’t trust you,” Jim tells the grinning sheriff.

“Not shit, Sherlock. I don’t trust you either, but we both trust Pike. I guess that has to be enough.”

Jim doesn’t respond but that’s probably because he can’t imagine agreeing with Archer.

“Are we done here?” Chris asks, daring to believe it might so.

Leonard begins to moan, “God, we’d better be, or—” only to be interrupted.

“I have a question.”

Everyone turns to look at Spock.

“I find this exchange remarkably fascinating,” Spock states, tilting his head slightly. “May I ask: are all of you homosexual?”

Leonard puts a hand to his face and grumbles something under his breath, but overall no one in the room seems particularly upset by the question.

Jim answers with a wave of his hand, indicating first himself then Leonard. “I’m bisexual. Bones might be but he’s never been with a girl.”

“TMI! Goddamn it, Jim!” Leonard cries, flustered.

“My dad is bi, I think,” Jim finishes.

Chris imagines his blush is as noticeable as Leonard’s.

Tone lazy, Jim points at Archer in the recliner. “He’s just desperate, though.”

Jon bares his teeth at Kirk before giving Spock a long look. “Why do you ask? Does it bother you to be in a room full of fags?”

Chris chokes on his own spit.

A line of confusion appears between Jon’s eyebrows as his expression turns thoughtful. “Or is it queers? What are we getting called these days? I don’t keep up.” The man shrugs. “Truth be told, if I meet a narrow-minded dickbag in my county, I have a tendency to shoot first, ask questions later.”

Chris grimaces. “Jon, you can’t shoot someone for being homophobic.”

“Why not?”

Jim and Jon blink, startled by the chorus of their voices, and for once contemplate each other with something besides dislike.

“Violence is not the answer,” Pike tells both of them firmly.

“Seconded,” Leonard echoes. “Especially because that kind of stupidity means the dickbag ends up on an operating table, or worse yet dead.”

“Uh-oh,” Jim says, sinking into his place on the couch. “Here we go.”

Leonard’s tone intensifies as he glares down at the top of his boyfriend’s head. “If people were more civilized, doctors wouldn’t have to waste precious time and resources on treating fools who don’t know better than settling their prejudices with bullets. Isn’t it bad enough that the human body can be a man’s own worst enemy?”

“Bones, weapons are for defense, not just offense.”

“Well, what’s the point if nobody pays attention to the difference these days? You shoot me, I shoot you back. If you want my opinion, we humans are as barbaric as the day we stepped out of caves!”

“That is a commendable sentiment, Leonard.”

“See?” Leonard says, poking at Jim’s shoulder. “Even Spock agrees with me!”

Jim gives Spock his best hurt expression, which doesn’t seem to affect the man in the least. Chris is beginning to recognize how Spock, like Leonard, might be a good influence on his son.

He clears his throat, hoping to steer the conversation back on topic. “I am sorry for the obfuscation, Mr. Spock.”

“I understand, Detective, and rest assured I am not offended. This matter is private, of course—” Spock pauses only momentarily, his gaze touching upon McCoy for some odd reason. “—intended for family only. I give you my word I will not discuss what I have learned here with others.”

Jim beams at Spock, his eyes warm. “I told you he could be trusted, Bones.”

Leonard’s eyes drop to his hands as he mutters, “Whatever.”

Chris is immensely relieved. “Your discretion is appreciated,” he thanks Jim’s friend.

Spock nods ever-so-slightly. “I offer my appreciation in return. It is not often I find myself in a position wherein I am so readily trusted.”

Leonard’s head comes up, and his expression is stormy, as if that comment had been meant as a personal jab at him. “People aren’t comfortable telling you anything, Spock, because you’re so damned insensitive!”

“Bones,” Jim says, sitting up from his slouch with a frown.

“I’m just calling like it is! Just like I called it back at Christmas… but you didn’t want to listen to me then either, did you?” Leonard’s agitation seems to intensify with every passing second.

Jon stage-whispers across the coffee table to Chris, “I think this is about to get more interesting than TV.”

Spock’s gaze darkens. “If you are referring to the events which prevented an act of terrorism, I had a right to be informed, Mr. McCoy. The device which would have taken lives was given into my care; the individual embroiled in the plot, an employee under my direct supervision. It is a matter of course that I extended a margin of trust to Mr. Kirk in thwarting disaster.”

Leonard leaps off the couch. “You son of a—!”

Chris rises too, prepared to intervene, but Jim catches a hold of Leonard’s arm in a tight grip and forces McCoy to sit again.

Spock watches Leonard closely, eyes no less furious but a measure of calm restored to his tone of voice. “If trust is given, should it not be reciprocated?”

“Then Jim should’ve only given you a ‘margin of trust’, not tell you his whole goddamn life story.”

Jonathan is the only one who finds the explosion of tempers amusing; Jim’s expression is bordering distressed and Chris doesn’t have the energy to endure another fight. “Leonard, I don’t think this is the best time or place to—” he tries to reason, only to be cut off.

“What business is this of yours?” Leonard snaps at him. “If I’ve got a bone to pick with your son, you should stay out of it.”

Chris doesn’t know what his face looks like just then, but Archer makes a sound like a meep and Jim bites down hard on his bottom lip, as though he can’t decide if he should shield his boyfriend with his body or cover his eyes.

Chris lowers his hands to rest them on his knees with exaggerated care and forces himself to take a deep breath. “I should pretend I didn’t hear that, Leonard. If I were a forgiving man, I would. You’re upset that Jim has taken a personal interest in Spock—but I don’t give a damn. Don’t ever tell me Jim is not my business again.” He needn’t be explicit in his threat; his cold tone is explicit enough.

Despite the tight press of his mouth, McCoy’s face loses color.

“Bones apologizes,” his son offers.

“Then he can tell me that himself,” Pike doesn’t quite snap.

“I—I’m sorry,” Leonard says after a moment. He doesn’t sound like he feels begrudged for having to apologize, only that he is embarrassed.

But Chris doesn’t trust himself to be polite in return so he just nods.

Jon breaks the silence with a nervous laugh. “Can we, uh, put this show on pause? It was entertaining up until I wet my pants.”

Spock agrees, “I have no desire to continue the disagreement.”

“Great!” Jon says, jumping up from his chair. “I’ll just be on my way to the bathroom now.”

Jim leans into Leonard’s shoulder. “Do you think he really peed himself?”

Leonard scrubs a hand over his face. “I came close to it.” Then he peeks around Jim at Pike with the hesitation of a scolded child.

Chris is suddenly, achingly tired. And his head hurts. He rises from the couch, at first not certain where he will go but knowing he needs some time to himself. A hand on his arm stalls his leave-taking. Chris glances down at his son.

“Dad?”

“Just… going to my room.”

Some of the concern fades from the boy’s eyes.

Leonard hugs Jim’s waist comfortingly with one arm. “Let him go, Jim. He knows better ‘n to run away again.”

Chris’s eyebrows furrow. “I didn’t run away last time.”

“You left the property and told no one where you were going,” counters Spock.

Chris can only stare at the expressionless, dark-haired man. Why is Spock lecturing him?

Spock doesn’t even blink. “You should be more aware than any of us that Jim requires assurance of the whereabouts of those individuals for whom he cares deeply.”

“Spock,” Leonard begins, sounding disturbed that Spock is so knowledgeable about his boyfriend, but Jim’s “He’s right, Bones” has the odd effect of quieting McCoy.

“I…” Chris has no idea what to say. Yes, he knows how sensitive Jim can be but haven’t they addressed those issues long ago?

Then again, isn’t Jim the one who calls him so often? He had assumed at some point Jim figured out how much his father needed to hear his voice and obliged him; it had not occurred to Chris that Jim was the one checking up on him.

Oh, Jimmy. “I’m sorry,” he tells his son.

Jim nods, a slight flush to the skin of his neck, and mumbles, “‘S all right. I wasn’t that worried.”

Leonard’s mouth twitches. “He kinda was.”

“I believe the term is ‘distraught’.”

“In the real world, Spock, and not your fantasy version of some Jane Austen novel, we say freaked out.”

“Some of us do not see a purpose in altering the English language to accommodate crass colloquiums.”

“It’s called evolution, you—you—” sputters McCoy, seeming extra pissed that he can’t think up a properly rude nickname.

The corners of Jim’s eyes crinkle as he catches his father’s look. “They don’t always get along.”

“I can see that,” Chris responds in a dry tone.

“It’s my job to mediate.”

“I know the feeling. Don’t I do the same between you and Jon?”

Immediately he knows that was the wrong thing to say. Bringing Archer into the conversation has never won him any points.

But Jim just looks away. “I guess so.”

Swallowing hard, Chris suddenly feels less confident that they have reached the kind of resolution he hoped for. Maybe right now it’s better to give Jim the time and space he needs. Edging around the coffee table, he seeks to leave the room as quickly as possible.

But Chris isn’t alone in facing this problem. He had forgotten that.

The curiosity in Spock’s gaze is only tempered by his intelligence. “Jim, we made progress today, but you have not promised you will continue to improve relations with the sheriff. I advise you do so now while your father is still present to hear it.”

“I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”

“But you can promise to try,” Leonard points out.

Jim is caught, and he knows it. Still, Pike is glad to hear him say, even sarcastically, “Fine. I promise to try.”

The words do make him feel better. “Thank you, Jim,” he says with sincerity.

Jim glances over at him and smiles a little; but that tentative smile dies too quickly. “Dad, I didn’t mean to—to bring you into the crossfire with Archer. But if he does anything…”

“At the risk of sounding like a broken record, I can handle it, Jim.”

“But if he does…”

“I will personally hold the bastard down while you beat the shit out of him, Jim,” Leonard intercedes. “And Pike won’t stop us.”

Jim’s mouth curves slowly. “Deal.”

How is it his participation can be volunteered so freely, and by someone who isn’t a son?

But seeing the satisfaction in Kirk’s face prompts Chris to let his urge to protest go.

“This is great,” Jim says, jumping up from the couch. “Let’s make a plan!”

Spock lifts an eyebrow and directs his inquiry to Leonard. “Jim has an unusual fondness for plans.”

“All ego-bloated maniacs do.”

“Most interesting. I feel that I should anticipate another arrest.”

“Never a bad thing to be prepared for,” Leonard agrees, suddenly friendly, “especially when none of us have been arrested since Christmas. Maybe that’s some kind of record?”

“Perhaps the sheriff wished to grant us a kindness.”

“Or Mr. Pike. I really thought that time we tailed him to—”

Chris chokes and almost trips on his own feet in his haste to get away from this conversation. He can’t hear another word or he’ll be an accessory to something. Maybe he should plug his ears with his fingers?

But the moment he steps foot out of the living room, the conversation isn’t the same one he was hearing, as if it was specifically designed to remove him from the room. In a gentle tone Pike has never heard from Spock, the man asks, “Jim, have you considered that Sheriff Archer is more afraid of you than you are of him?”

“Spock’s got a point. You can pretty much ruin his life if you convince your dad to ditch him—not that I’m saying you would succeed, bright eyes, because it’s obvious Mr. Pike has legitimate feelings for the guy.”

Jim replies but his voice is too low to be intelligible to Pike’s ears.

McCoy’s voice isn’t. “Well, yeah, he’s crazy, darlin’, but it’s the same brand of crazy as yours. Maybe Pike just likes his family loonier than a sack of baboons. Makes him seem sane by comparison.”

“Leonard, I do not believe insulting Jim’s father is the most appropriate tactic.”

The subsequent laughter is Jim’s, and Chris finds himself slumping against the wall in relief.

If he had been paying more attention to his surroundings instead of what Spock and McCoy were saying, he would have realized he isn’t alone. Jonathan is leaning against the wall, too, half-in and half-out of shadow on the opposite side of the hallway. His stance says he’s been there a while.

Chris doesn’t think. He pushes away from the wall, catches a hold of the man’s arm and tugs him toward the end of the hall. He lets go of Jon once they are safely hidden in his bedroom. He leaves the door partially open out of habit.

Chris goes over to his dresser, taking off his watch. “I assume you didn’t have to pee after all.” When Archer doesn’t reply or move, Chris feels a smidgen of alarm. “Jon?”

Jonathan’s hands are tucked in his pants pocket; his head, bowed. “They’re right, you know. I’m scared down to the marrow of my bones.”

“What?”

Jon’s voice turns husky with worry. “How long until you realize I am crazy, Chris?”

“You’re not crazy,” he counters.

“Hell yes, I am!” Jonathan snaps back. “Do you think all of this is really about Kirk being paranoid that I’m out to use you? He knows me, Chris. He knows… I get obsessed about things. Seen it firsthand—seen how, how messed up I am—” Jonathan’s voice cracks and he curses, shoving his fingers through his hair.

“Listen,” Chris says, finally able to find his footing, “not one of us is perfect—not you, Jim, or myself. Do you think I expect that from you, Jon? Because I’d be crazy myself if I did. You could never be the perfect boyfriend.”

For a brief moment, amusement supersedes the pain in Jon’s eyes. “Well, thanks.”

“You know what I mean. There is no perfect boyfriend. Or lover, or parent. We just do the best we can with the roles we want to play.”

“Christopher,” and why does Archer sound so annoyed? “I don’t think you get how perfect you are.”

Chris is taken aback. “Says who?”

“Probably everyone who has ever met you. You’re an amazing person. You’re smart as a whip, and generous, and really fucking kind. You go above and beyond what the rest of us are willing to do. You took a kid that was broken and you fixed him.”

“Oh, Jon,” Chris says, dropping to the edge of his bed, unable to decide between laughing or crying. “I’m… flattered you think so highly of me. I am. But none of that is true.” Before Archer can open his mouth to argue, Chris continues. “First, not everyone thinks I’m perfect. Ask McCoy sometime how he feels about my ‘love letter’ idea. Secondly, I don’t always use my brain when it counts. And third, which is the most important thing I need you to understand, I didn’t fix Jim. He helped himself. I only supported him through the process.” He sighs, and it’s a sad sound. “You can’t fix other people, Jon. You just can’t.”

Something lodges in Chris’s throat when Jon comes to him and drops on his knees. He reaches for Jon without thinking and cups the man’s jaw with one hand. Jonathan’s hand covers his.

“Christopher, I can’t—” The plea stops, starts, finally falls into a whisper. “I need you to help me, too.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he argues gently.

But Jon doesn’t answer; instead he leans forward to lay his forehead against Christopher’s knee. Chris slides a hand into the man’s hair, begins to massage the back of his scalp. Normally he would choose to speak quietly, privately, between them but a shadow moves just beyond the door of the bedroom. Something inside Pike tells him this is a chance he won’t have again; and more than that, Jonathan needs to hear the truth.

“I don’t know why you think there’s something wrong. You’re a strong man, Jon, and a brave one. Back at the Academy, you would be the first one through the simulation to stop the bad guy. People called you crazy for it back then, I know, but that was what set you apart from them, what made you special enough to make others jealous. And because you are who you are, people will always trust you to lead them and to keep them safe. That’s why I trust you with my life—why I trust you with my son, who is more precious than my life.”

Jon makes a noise against his knees, like a half-hearted laugh or a sob.

Chris shushes him, saying, “So there’s nothing wrong with you, Jonathan, except maybe you’re a little lonely right now. Well I am too. Why don’t we help each other?”

Jon lifts his face. “If I mess this—us—up…”

“You won’t.”

“How can you know that?”

“I can’t, but I do know that men like us fight for what we have because we understand how lucky we are to have it. You won’t let yourself ruin a good thing.”

“We’re a good thing?”

“The best,” Chris says, and draws his lover forward to seal his promise with a kiss.

He leaves Jonathan in the bathroom washing his face and goes to find his son and houseguests. Leonard and Jim are seated at the round kitchen table and Spock is near the stove, taking items out of a cabinet.

“What’s this?” Chris queries.

“Spock makes edible food,” Jim answers, busy watching his friend.

“Apparently,” Leonard adds, “Jim is trying to convince me this is a valid reason to keep Spock around.”

Or it’s Jim’s not-so-subtle prod at his father, who can’t cook to save his life. Not that Pike intends to admit this to anyone. It’s unfortunate enough that Archer already knows.

Spock is not too pre-occupied with his task to talk, it seems. “I do not like your insinuation that I am bad company, Mr. McCoy.”

“Well I don’t like your hair.”

“And I find your childish responses annoying.”

“Hey!” Leonard retorts. “Who’s the one responding to whom?”

Jim’s shoulders begin to tremble. Chris touches his shoulder. “Do you have a minute?”

Jim nods but quickly corrects, “Hold on a sec, Dad. I’ll be right back.”

Leonard offers once Jim is gone, “I think we did make some headway with him.”

“Truly?” Chris dares to hope as he takes Jim’s vacated seat next to McCoy. “What did you say to him?”

Leonard eyes the man at the stove with something bordering respect. “Wasn’t me. Spock came back after excusing himself to use the bathroom and said something to Jim. Damned if I know what it was.”

“I explained to Jim,” Spock remarks without turning away from the cutting board and array of vegetables, “that the sheriff has something in common with him. Both are afraid of jeopardizing their relationship with their significant other. Jim knows I strive to speak only the truth.”

Leonard’s mouth thins. “Jim’s not—”

Spock turns to give Jim’s boyfriend a long look. “What do you think Jim discusses with me during our visits, Leonard?”

“You play chess.”

“Yes—and while we play chess, he talks about you.”

Leonard’s mouth opens but it’s clear when nothing comes out he can think of nothing to say.

Chris decides this is a perfect opportunity to side with Spock. “That doesn’t surprise me. Jim loves Leonard deeply, but he has always been afraid he is too much, well, himself to make a good partner for someone.”

“Such an assumption is illogical.”

“I know,” Chris agrees. “I had to coach the boy through several no-win scenarios before he believed Leonard wasn’t going to turn him down if he admitted his feelings.”

“What!” the word bursts out of McCoy. “I wouldn’t have dreamed of doing that!”

Chris pats Leonard’s shoulder, saying kindly, “Don’t worry, Leonard. Jim knows that now.”

Leonard slumps into his chair. “I can’t believe it. And you’re saying Archer’s the same way?”

“It would seem so.”

Leonard blows out a breath, then another. “I don’t know if I should be grateful or terrified.”

A rueful smile tugs at Chris’s mouth. “Ditto.”

“Hey, Bones, where are my—oh, are we talking about me?”

Jim, who has poked his head into the kitchen, looks terribly interested in the answer.

“No,” Leonard and Chris chorus. But Jim ignores them, staring at the back of an incongruously silent Spock’s head. He steps into the kitchen with the look of a man who has set himself on a mission. If anything, Spock’s posture becomes more rigid, as if he can sense Jim is coming to shake the truth out of him.

Leonard calls hurriedly, “What is it you were looking for, Jim?”

Jim’s gaze moves from Leonard to Spock and back again.

“Jim?” his boyfriend prompts.

Jim sniffs lightly. “Twinkies,” he says.

“No Twinkies this weekend,” Chris warns his son at the same time Leonard says, “I told you I wasn’t bringing any.”

Jim looks aghast at them both.

Jon appears in the archway with the greeting “Hey.” After scrutizing everyone’s faces, he asks, “Oh, were you talking about me?”

Leonard rolls his eyes. Spock goes back to cooking. Chris escorts his son through the back door of the kitchen, who tries to instigate a new argument with Jon by replying, “Nope, we’re talking about me.”

Jim pulls out of his grip once they are in the yard and eyes Pike, wary. “What is it?”

Chris thinks about his options as he considers his son’s tense stance. He could fuss about a myriad of things; he could try to gain some idea of Jim’s future intentions. He could even try for closure because it feels like they’re still a long way off from understanding each other.

But none of that matters, not really. Words don’t even matter.

Chris opens his arms.

Jim freezes for a split second; then, eyes tear-bright, steps into the embrace. They hold each other for a long time.

When Jim finally pulls away, he runs a sleeve across his face and says, snuffling, “We’re being watched.”

Chris starts and turns around to catch the culprit. At his feet, Porthos blinks innocuously back at him and seems to appreciate it when Jim squats down to rub the top of his head. In return, Porthos slobbers on Jim’s hand.

“He’s a good dog. Can we keep him?” Jim asks.

“I suppose if it came down to it, I can vy for custody,” Chris responds, amused.

Porthos lies down on his side. Jim apparently knows what the dog wants, because he immediately picks the dog up and hugs him against his chest. Porthos looks content.

First steps are always small, Chris thinks, watching Jim climb the stairs to the house with Porthos in his arms. If Jim understands what Jonathan sees in a very spoiled, old beagle, even without knowing that he understands, then maybe…

Maybe…

Christopher Pike smiles.

There is hope yet.

The End

Related Posts:

• [Master Post] Holiday Series – from January 21, 2017
• Holiday Revenge (13/13) – from January 20, 2017
• Holiday Revenge (12/13) – from January 19, 2017
• This Is No Holiday (2/3) – from May 5, 2013
• This Is No Holiday (1/3) – from May 5, 2013

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