Title: Holiday Revenge (8/12)
Author: klmeri
Fandom: Star Trek AOS
Pairing: Pike/Archer, Kirk/McCoy
Summary: Sequel to Goodbye, Holidays. Events turn ugly, for Kirk’s enemy has found the perfect way to pay Kirk back for his meddling.
Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

Part Eight

“Boss.”

That faint echo sounds important. Jon could listen to it but…

“Boss!”

The slamming next to Archer’s head more than the shout of his name wakes him up. “What the—oh hell, Larry,” he gripes as the bleary image of the deputy standing on the opposite side of his desk comes into focus, “you almost gave me a heart attack!”

“Got tired of calling you,” Larry replies, plainly unrepentant. He gestures at the stack of manila folders that had been the cause of the slamming noise in Archer’s eardrums. “I know you ain’t slept in a while, but work needs doing. At least start on the backlog while you’re here.”

Jonathan sets his elbows down on his desk and cradles his head. “How long was I out?”

Larry glances at the clock. “Couple of hours.” He studies Archer’s face. “You look better but still like shit.”

“You know how to charm a fellow.”

“It is what it is.”

“That’s for sure,” Archer mutters. “Who’s still here?”

“I sent a couple of the rookies out on highway patrol. They don’t know yet to mind the long hours. Jenkins fell asleep halfway through his midnight snack again so I sent him home to his wife. Matthews and I are running the desk.”

Jon sits up, feeling the burden he had been oblivious to while asleep settle on his shoulders again. Did his return to the station set anything in motion? Only time will tell. To be honest, he barely remembers what he said and did when he came in hours ago. He recalls his team being surprised to see him—and even more surprised, perhaps, to hear him complain aloud of the lack of leads on Pike’s disappearance and criticize Liu’s handling of the investigation. He was supposed to pretend to seclude himself in his office while keeping tabs on his men. Instead, at some point, he passed out.

Shit, he thinks, reaching for his phone. Has he botched things up? Did either of Kirk’s friends try to contact him meanwhile? He asks, “What time is it?”

At Larry’s answer, Jon drops his cell phone back to his desk and jumps up. “Nine? Fuck!” The press conference!

Shoving through the cluttered office, Archer grabs his discarded hat and jacket on the way, snapping as he goes, “Why the hell didn’t you wake me sooner?”

Larry looks more tired than usual. “By the time I remembered you wanted to be there, there was no way you would’ve made it on time.” He says as Jon angrily pushes past him, “Kirk’s on the set now.”

Jonathan freezes just outside his office doorway; despite the distracting clang of mental alarm bells, of the agonizing thought you screwed up, Archer, the kid’ll never forgive you, he changes his direction to the department’s canteen. There he finds Matthews already seated at the table, eyes fixed on a small television screen. Without a word, Matthews lifts the remote control at Archer’s approach and raises the volume. On the screen, Jim looks far worse than Jon does.

Larry appears and pulls out an empty chair, pushing Jon into it. None of the men speak until the conference is over, and the news channel reporter has taken center stage to recap what is known about the potential kidnapping for one of the city’s most beloved police officers.

Matthews murmurs, “Poor Kirk.”

Jon looks to his deputy. “I thought you hated him.”

“I can hate a guy and still feel bad for him. Besides,” the younger man argues, “I wouldn’t hate Kirk so much if he didn’t push my buttons every time I arrested him.”

Archer’s mouth twitches in amusement. “That’s because you’re arresting him. And you’ve only ever booked Jim twice.”

“He’s a dick.”

“No argument from this corner.”

“So,” Larry cuts in, “do you think putting the vic’s family on TV will do any good?”

Jon sighs and massages the bridge of his nose. “It rarely does.”

Larry leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Speaking of dicks, that FBI agent looks like trouble.”

“His name’s Gaius,” Jon supplies.

Matthews snorts. “Agent Gaius? Jesus, it sounds like he belongs on a magic show.”

“Well,” muses Jon, “he’s definitely hell-bent on having a dog-and-pony show here.” Same goes for Lt. Marcus, but Jon sees no point in adding that. His thoughts return to Sulu and Chekov’s mission last night. “I need to make a call.”

Leaving his deputies behind, Jonathan returns to his office after patting his pockets and realizing his cell phone is still on his desk. Just as he retrieves it, his office phone rings, and Jon answers it out of habit. “Archer here.”

“This is Liu.”

“Captain,” he says, feeling his heart lodge in his throat at her tone of voice, “what can I do for you?” Is she going to ream him out for missing the press conference? Had she even wanted him to be there? He honestly doesn’t know.

But Liu only says, “Briefing at one. Don’t be late.”

Jon is left staring at the phone long after she has hung up. He’s being called back in already. Him.

Not good, proclaims his intuition.

Replacing the phone in its cradle, he dials Kirk on his cell but the call goes to voicemail. So does a call to McCoy. There isn’t a point in trying the house phone since any conversation on that line will be monitored.

I’m just sleep-derived, Jon decides. Unless Liu gives him a reason to panic, he shouldn’t be imagining the worst.

Yet even as Archer settles in his chair and flips open the first manila folder from the stack, his mind is against him.

When he leaves the Sheriff’s Department two hours later, his gaze tracks to the parking lot across the street. Sulu and Chekov’s stakeout must be over, for their car is gone from the corner. He runs his thumb along the cover of his cell phone in his pocket and decides that no word from them—or Kirk—is a mystery that must wait until after Liu’s briefing.

~~~

Jon arrives at the police station at the same time as a delivery guy struggling to unload four large bags. Phil cheers as he hurries into the reception area, “You’re here!”

Jon’s mood, which had darkened over the course of the drive between the counties, brightens. “Yeah, I made it.”

Phil pauses long enough to blink in his direction. “Oh, Sheriff Archer. Hello there. Sorry, I was talking to him.” He indicates the delivery guy. “Not that it isn’t nice to see you, but we’re on the verge of starvation here.” He cautions with a touch of humor, “Don’t approach the Captain until she’s had at least half her sandwich.”

Jon looks into one of the bags. It hadn’t occurred to him to pick up food on his way down. “I don’t suppose you ordered extra?”

“Actually,” Phil tells him, “I think Robbins ordered for you.”

“Think I could hug her without getting punched?”

“Nope.” Phil hands two bags to Archer after he signs a credit card slip.

As Jon follows the man into the bullpen, heads turn in their direction or pop out of doorways with the voraciousness of hungry wolves scenting an easy kill. He and Phil don’t make it into the break room before people start crowding the doorway, waiting not so patiently to get at their lunch.

Archer hears the snarl of “Move.”

Phil is ready and waiting when his captain breaks into the front of the crowd; he hands her a wrapped sandwich and a bag of chips. The crowd parts again to let Liu out, then they come through the door.

Jon is smart enough to stick his hands in his pockets and stand aside as a line forms. “Is it always like this?” he wants to know when the last person has walked out the break room, already biting into his sandwich.

“Usually we’re more civil,” Phil says, “but it’s been a stressful couple of days.”

Jon understands all too well. “The pressure of the case really gets to you sometimes. Kidnappings and hostage situations—they’re the worst.”

Phil glances sidelong at him. “We can handle the worst, but it’s less easy to handle it being one of our own.”

“You mean everyone’s like this because it’s Chris.”

“Yes,” Phil answers simply and hands Jon the last two sandwiches.

The door to the break room swings open.

“Archer,” Agent Robbins says upon entering, “come with me.” She takes one of the sandwiches from his hand and walks out again.

Jon thanks Phil and catches up to her. Together they enter the conference room set up for the briefings. A large board has been recently brought in but it faces the wall. A few other people, including Officer Moreau, are already seated at the long oblong table. They are eating quietly.

Robbins takes a seat on one end and nudges the chair next to her in a silent command. Jonathan sits down. The subdued atmosphere of the room gives him goosebumps. Robbins unwraps her sandwich, takes a bite, and turns to her laptop.

“Maybe you can give me a heads-up,” he murmurs to her.

“The Cyberteam had a breakthrough with some of the evidence. That’s all I know.”

Archer glances in Moreau’s direction. As if sensing his interest, she raises her head to meet his gaze, but the moment is brief and her head turns away again.

Jon’s stomach cramps, not from the lack of food but from a bad feeling. Managing to eat only half his sandwich, he offers the rest to anyone who wants it but at the lack of response pitches the remnants into the nearest trashcan.

Thirty minutes later Liu arrives with Marcus on her heels. She shuts the door and gives all of them a long, assessing look. “This is a priority one briefing. If you’re in this room, I’ve given you the clearance to be privy to an extremely sensitive development in our case. You will not repeat what you hear to anyone but those present.”

Robbins had closed her laptop at Liu’s appearance. Now she rests her hand on top of its lid, interlocking her fingers. Jon notices how she surreptitiously rubs her thumb against the underside of her palm. What could possibly make Robbins nervous?

Well, the only way for Archer to hide his unease is with false bravado. He raises his voice to carry. “Don’t keep us in suspense, Captain. What development?”

Liu nods to Moreau. The officer rises from the table and heads for the investigation board while Marcus drifts to the back of the room to lean against a wall as if he’s no more than a bystander in the proceedings.

Marlena begins as she turns the board around, “At approximately seventy-thirty yesterday evening, we were alerted to activity in one of Detective Pike’s bank accounts.” She points to a grainy photograph at the edge of the board. “The withdrawal of cash was traced to this ATM and individual.”

Jon half-rises out of his chair. He hears Robbins’s sharp intake of breath. The man in the photograph has a face hidden behind sunglasses and the low brim of a baseball cap, but the set of his shoulders is quite familiar.

Moreau’s finger traces an invisible path from photograph to photograph on the board, all captioned with a date, time, and location. “During the next hour, the same individual was captured at other ATMs within a ten-mile radius, each time making the maximum cash withdrawal.” Her gaze turns on her audience. “As you can see, the original quality from the cams isn’t good but we used a program to clean up each image as best we could.” Nodding to one of her team, Moreau directs their attention to the projector screen at the front of the room. “DeSalle will show you the results.”

A computer desktop comes on screen. When DeSalle opens the first re-touched photograph, dead silence takes a hold of the room. As the last image becomes visible, Liu voices what they are all thinking: “As of last night, this confirms that Detective Pike was alive and well. Moreau.”

Marlena continues, “We accessed the traffic cams operating around each location to track Pike’s movement. This is a short video clip from one of those cameras.” As DeSalle plays the video, Jon ends up gripping the edge of the table. “We were able to capture his rough trajectory, but as you can see no one appears to be following him from either direction.”

Robbins breaks in, “Given the limited range of the traffic cam, that statement is hardly conclusive.”

“More to the point,” Jon elaborates, “we shouldn’t discount the possibility of an unseen threat. Whatever prompted Pike to make these trips won’t be answered by a fifteen-second video. The real question is: how did he move between ATMs?”

“We’re still investigating the method of transportation. Unfortunately that requires us to pull the footage for every adjacent street and review it. So far there’s no correlation.”

“He couldn’t have gone to all those ATMs on foot, and he sure as hell didn’t fly!”

“Archer,” Liu says in warning. Then, “At this time, what’s relevant is that Pike nearly emptied his checking account, used circuitous routes to move about and purposely dressed to avoid detection.” She finishes by saying what Jonathan fears to hear, “It doesn’t paint the cleanest picture for a victim of a kidnapping.”

Marcus shifts from his place against the wall, a subtle movement that nonetheless draws the attention of the room. “Captain, I have something to add.”

“Proceed, Lieutenant.”

Marcus’s gaze drifts around the table. “What I have to say might disturb you. On the day Pike went missing, you’ve heard that we had lunch together. He spoke to me in confidence as a friend, and while I believed much of that conversation to be passing remarks, I now suspect there may be a connection to this investigation.” Marcus’s tone changes to reflect concern and a hint of resignation. “We talked mainly about his son’s recovery. Chris was very open about the animosity he felt towards the perps who attacked Jim. He hinted that he wouldn’t dismiss an opportunity to—” He draws a breath. “—eliminate them. To quote him, ‘I know what I would do if I found those bastards.'”

Jon is surprised he hasn’t cracked the edge of the table with his grip. Robbins glances at him, her mouth thinning to an unhappy line.

Liu crosses her arms over her chest. She sounds only mildly interested by this revelation. “What is your point?”

Marcus gestures at the clearer images of Pike. “Have you considered that he’s acting on his own?”

“Vigilantism?” Marlena questions in a sharp tone.

“It would be hard for most of you to understand how strong the temptation is,” replies Marcus, which for some reason causes almost everyone in the room to avoid his gaze. “I do.”

Jon comes out of his chair because he simply can’t abide Marcus’s suggestion. “You’re kidding me right now, aren’t you? Do you honestly think Pike instigated a full-scale search-and-rescue operation because he couldn’t control an urge to shoot some bad guys? I’ve known that man over twenty years! No way in hell.”

Marcus accepts this outburst without much reaction. “The evidence speaks for itself.”

Jon slams his hands down on the table. “There is no evidence!”

Robbins wraps a hand around one of his arms. “Sit down, Sheriff.”

He shakes her grip off because Marcus’s bland expression is really starting to needle him. “Those pictures are shit, and you know it. So is a conversation that can’t be supported by witnesses.”

A muscle jumps in Marcus’s jaw. “Archer, are you calling me a liar?”

“If the shoe fits.”

“Gentlemen,” Liu interrupts, her voice hard, “I’ll remind you that you’re on duty.”

Jonathan faces her. “If you called me here to tell me that Pike’s alive, great. If you want me to figure out where he went with all that money, even better. But don’t waste my time by turning your most decorated officer into a criminal because it’s convenient.”

Liu’s look has her subordinates shifting uncomfortably in their chairs. “Insult me one more time, Sheriff, and I promise you you won’t be spending any time in this precinct unless it’s under lock and key.”

Jonathan decides she isn’t bluffing, so when Robbins once again tells him to sit down, he does. He stares at the table for a moment before returning his gaze to Marcus just in time to see a flash across the man’s face that looks a lot like hatred. Marcus catches him looking and stares back.

Liu claims their attention again. “This is a potential game changer. I am not fully convinced we’re still dealing with a kidnapping, but nor will I condemn anyone without sufficient evidence. My main concern for now is that we work this new angle without alerting the press or unnecessarily alarming the victim’s family. Pike is still MIA, which is all anyone needs to know. I may change some your assignments. You will be notified shortly if I do. Dismissed.”

Jon is going to force a change in assignment for himself. With Pike having been sighted, there’s nothing else he needs to be doing except sticking to that trail. If he has to, he will even give up on his personal investigation into Marcus’s connection to the case.

At Liu’s dismissal, the other officers collect their notepads, pack their equipment, and begin to exit the room but like Jon, Marcus clearly has something on his mind to delay his leave-taking. He approaches the end of the table. “Captain, if we uncover more evidence to implicate Pike, what then?”

Liu stares at Marcus. “An officer breaking the law is no different than a civilian.”

“Even when it’s Chris?”

“Even when it’s you,” she replies.

Marcus’s nostrils flare. “I’m not concerned about myself, Liu.”

Robbins comes to her feet unexpectedly. “Alex, that’s enough.”

Marcus’s gaze slides to the agent. “I know you’re thinking it too. We won’t be able to prosecute Pike and protect his family at the same time.”

Jon doesn’t like this turn of conversation. “What does that mean?”

“Pike’s kid could be a problem. We’ve made allowances for him in the past because Pike was holding the leash. Who’s going to handle him if the worse happens? Keep him from breaking the law?”

Jon can’t explain it but his temper positively boils over. “I don’t know why you’re bringing Kirk into this, Marcus, but here’s a reality check for you: if you put Pike in handcuffs, that kid will prove his innocence so fast it will make your head spin and leave the rest of you looking like a bunch of jackasses. If it comes to that, I’ll help him do it!”

Marcus slaps back, “Then you can be the one to tell him about his old man.”

“Tell me what?“

That clipped voice is one Jon recognizes instantly; yet it feels like he shouldn’t because it has never before commanded such attention in a way that makes others want to fall in line and obey. He twists around his chair with both surprise and dread to face the man framed in the open doorway of the conference room.

Jim Kirk comes a few steps closer, flanked by McCoy on his right side and Spock on his left. “Tell me what?” Jim repeats, staring directly at Marcus.

Marcus, the fool, just looks pityingly at Kirk. Waving a hand to the evidence board, he says, “See for yourself.”

“Lieutenant!” Liu snaps, for this is a direct violation of her orders. When Kirk angles his way across the room, she intercedes, only to have Spock in turn block her path. “Jim, step out.”

Pike’s son ignores her, stopping far enough from the board that everything would be legible: the photos, pinned map, dates and times. There is a tense silence while Kirk studies the information. Jon has no doubt that he can accurately piece together this new development on his own.

Liu looks resigned. “Mr. Kirk, you and your friends are not allowed to interrupt these meetings at your leisure. I won’t ask again. Leave now.”

Jon expects Jim to turn on Liu and do or say something to force her to arrest him. Instead, Kirk turns to him and wants to know, sounding unusually calm, “Does this make sense to you?”

Jon answers with the truth. “No.”

Jim’s nod is the slightest of motions. Then he spins on his heel, remarking, “Spock, Bones. Let’s go.”

The trio flows out of the room, the officers who had frozen near the doorway pressing aside to get out of their way. At the last second, McCoy’s backwards glance finds Jon. Jon can sympathize with the blatant worry there.

Oh well. Time to do damage control.

But Liu makes the request, “Jonathan, stay a minute.”

“But Kirk—”

“Jim won’t go far,” she reasons.

Everyone else leaves the room, including Marcus and Robbins.

When the door is closed again and, Jon suspects, locked, Liu drops into a chair with a weariness she had not shown earlier.

Jon draws a breath. “What is it?”

“You were going for the jugular back there with Marcus. Why?”

He answers seriously, “You don’t want to know.”

Liu meets his gaze. “You think Alex is planting evidence.”

Jon rocks back in his chair. “Planting… Wait a minute. Did you speak to Agent Robbins?”

Liu fixes her gaze on the spot where Marcus had stood. “Una keeps her own council.”

“Then why the suspicion of Marcus?”

The captain presses her mouth flat. “Because I know I don’t trust him.” Her eyes seek Jon’s again. “This is strictly between us, Sheriff. I’ve been building a case against Lt. Marcus to present to Internal Affairs.”

“And the charge?” Jon questions quietly.

“Corruption, among other things.”

Jon needs a minute to consider that. “Taking bribes?”

“I am afraid it may be more serious.” The captain taps a finger against the table. “Regardless of my suspicions, I’m telling you this because I need your cooperation as much as I need your discretion. If Marcus is involved in any way in this investigation, of course we must uncover how but with caution. He thinks he can sway the outcome, that much is clear. I’m willing to give him enough rope to hang himself.”

“Hold on,” Jon says, lifting a hand, “are you saying you don’t believe Chris has set this up?”

“Archer,” Liu chides, clearly annoyed, “you should know better.” Then she pauses, cocks her head. “Maybe you don’t.”

“Huh?”

“I see Una has left out some relevant information.” Her amused tone kind of frightens Jon. “I accepted the captaincy here in part due to her request. When Una heard her former captain was retiring, she contacted me about the opening. After some convincing and due diligence on my part, I agreed it would be a good fit. The rest, as they say, is history.”

“Pike was up for the promotion. Did she tell you that?”

“It’s because Pike turned it down that Robbins called me. Marcus was the next choice for Captain unless someone better came along. That possibility concerned her. Concerns about Lt. Marcus,” the woman adds, “that I now share.”

“While I find this history lesson to be very interesting, I’m still confused. What does that have to do with Pike?”

Liu laughs. “Dearest, I thought it was obvious. Christopher is under my protection.”

Jon can only stare at her.

She clarifies, “Protection from Marcus and any other unsavory individuals who think to undermine your valiant Pike. Robbins knew I was up to the task, and in return she promised he would bring me plenty of wins. As I am quite ambitious myself, I need that prestige to advance my career. And, really, it’s no hardship to support an outstanding talent like Chris’s.”

“He… doesn’t know this,” Jon sputters because, holy crap, how would Pike ever guess that his well-being was being safe-guarded by two crafty women?

“And you will never tell him,” Liu says pointedly.

“Ma’am,” Jon assures her, “my lips are sealed.” How do I get in on this club? That is what Jon is really wondering.

“We can address any particular questions you have at a later date. For now,” Liu reminds him, “I think you need to focus on Chris’s son.”

Oh right, Jim. Jon abandons his chair to take up this new mission, although he does take the time to turn back at the door and say, “Thank you for trusting me, Greta.”

“You’re welcome. And, Archer? Don’t disappoint me.”

He plans not to.

~~~

For such a busy place, people tend to disappear in the precinct quickly. Jonathan is on the hunt for any familiar (and friendly) face that can point him in the direction of Kirk and his posse. No one claims to have seen them until Jonathan locates Phil.

“Try the bathroom,” Phil suggests.

“Why there?”

Phil just sighs, leaving Jonathan to hurry uncertainly towards the nearest men’s restroom. There he finds two promising leads along the empty corridor in front of the closed restroom door. However a rather loud, reverberating “Damn you!” slows Jonathan’s initial approach, and self-preservation prompts him to linger around the corner of the corridor to observe rather than interrupt what appears to be a heated argument between Spock and McCoy.

Leonard grabs Spock, who is staring elsewhere in his customary stoic manner, and spins the man around to face him. Though Leonard is the one holding Spock by the shoulders like he intends to shake the frustration out through Spock, Spock is the one who presses forward suddenly to loom over McCoy.

“You will release me,” Spock insists.

“Not before I’ve had my say.” Leonard’s voice turns fiery. “What the hell is wrong with you? Jim’s in a bad place right now, and you’re not helping. My god, man, we may disagree on plenty of things but I thought you knew when to be the voice of reason!”

“On the contrary, Mr. McCoy, I believe it is your reluctance to act that has jeopardized our situation.”

“We’re not the police, Spock! Let them do their jobs!”

Go Sourpatch! Jon cheers mentally.

“These policemen have shown themselves to be inept.”

In a different setting, Jon would stuck out his tongue at Spock’s back. As it stands, he doesn’t want to be seen by either man.

“Not all of them,” McCoy argues.

Spock’s voice turns scathing. “Have you failed to comprehend what course of investigation the Captain plans to pursue?”

“I think they’re wrong too. Mr. Pike isn’t some vengeful lunatic. He wouldn’t do that to Jim at any rate.”

“Then what is the purpose of this conversation?”

“Spock, I’m saying now isn’t the time to play follow the leader. I know you’re loyal to Jim. God knows you have made that abundantly clear. But exercise some goddamn common sense!”

“Were I to adopt your definition of common sense, I should expect Jim to avoid me at all costs.”

A moment of silence ensues before Leonard draws back, removing his hands from Spock, expression pained. “Why would you say that?”

“Can you deny that I have spoken the truth?”

Leonard starts to speak, but falters.

Spock straightens, seeming to realize his rejoinder was too cutting. His voice and expression return to neutral. “If you do not understand, take the matter up with Jim.”

“Wait a doggone minute,” Leonard says when Spock starts to turn away again, “why would you be pissed at me?”

“I believe I should be the one to pose that question, Mr. McCoy. What drives you to disagree with my showing of support for Jim? Are you simply opposed to the idea of taking action, or to the fact those actions naturally shall include me?”

McCoy pales.

Jon quickly glances behind him, glad no one else is about to walk in on this conversation. A part of him says he shouldn’t be eavesdropping but now his curiosity has gotten the better of him. Will Leonard listen to the advice not to turn Spock away? It seems like he is trying his best, but who would have guessed that Spock would be more attuned to McCoy’s feelings than McCoy himself?

Spock continues, “As I have been clear in my acceptance of Jim, so have you in your refusal to accept me.”

Jon sucks in a breath. Wow, Spock minces no words.

“That—that’s—” Leonard’s throat works a couple of times around an excuse.

Spock’s voice frosts over. “Do not insult me by pretending ignorance.”

Leonard protests, “It’s not that I object to Jim having friends. I just…” He falters again.

Spock finishes for him, “You cannot approve of a friend when that friend is me.”

Leonard’s voice breaks as he grabs Spock’s arm. “Spock, it’s not you. Damn it, why are you making me say this? I’m the problem.”

“I had hoped you were aware of that fact.”

“Stop being so glib!” Jim’s boyfriend explodes. “You don’t know how I feel! You and Jim, it’s not normal how close you are! Not unless you’re—” Leonard suddenly chokes on his own admission.

Anybody could finish that sentence without trying too hard. Jon lays a hand against the wall and sighs.

On the other hand, Spock has simply raised an eyebrow, his look simultaneously intrigued and daring McCoy to continue.

Leonard’s face changes colors rapidly, his tan paling then reddening before paling again. “Oh hell.”

“Do you admit that you are being irrational?”

“Shut up or I’m gonna punch you.”

Spock hardly looks afraid. “You have already done that.”

“Because you deserved it!” Leonard snaps.

Spock studies McCoy more intently. “Do you truly believe so?”

Leonard opens his mouth, only to close it again with a perturbed expression. “Yes,” he answers at last. “Y’all deserve my anger. Leaving me out was wrong.”

“Keeping you in ignorance was the only way to protect you,” Spock responds, matter-of-fact. “Jim could not be persuaded otherwise. To him you are as precious as the man he calls his father, if not more so.”

Leonard’s mouth opens this time and stays open.

The taller man shakes his head ever-so-slightly. “That you are unable to see the depth to which your partner cares for you is… disturbing, when it is quite evident to everyone else. I would attempt to convince you, Mr. McCoy, but it is not my place to do so. However I can inform you that Jim does not understand your refusal to support his efforts to recover his father. From Jim’s perspective, there is no alternative. He is only doing what he must. To stand against him is not logical, nor is it likely to have a positive outcome.”

Uh-oh, Spock is starting to make sense. Jon doesn’t know if he can stay on Team McCoy at this rate.

Leonard seems to be wavering as well. “Then help me support Jim in a way that yields a positive outcome. Help me get through to him. What good is it to Mr. Pike if we get ourselves killed?”

“Unless our objectives coincide, I cannot.”

When Spock pivots away, Leonard makes a choked sound. “Spock, what do I have to do? Beg?”

Jon nearly steps around the corner to stop McCoy when he starts to sink to his knees, but Spock is far quicker to react. He catches McCoy by the arms and levers him upright, almost to the point that it looks like Leonard is barely putting weight on his own feet.

And for the first time, Spock appears truly, deeply angry. “You will never beg before me.”

“Then tell me,” Leonard croaks with undisguised anguish, “how I can convince you.”

Jon holds his breath as Spock lifts one of his hands towards the captive man’s face, not certain what Spock intends to do. Grab McCoy’s chin? Yank his hair?

Oddly, the man only draws his thumb under Leonard’s right eye; it comes away wet at the tip. “Your emotional distress is unbecoming.”

“Can’t help it. Jim means everything to me. I know when I’m beaten, Spock. I need you on my side. Together we stand a chance of keeping him safe. Alone, I’m helpless. I can’t do this without you.”

“Leonard, I never said I would not help you, given the choice. If you will only cease to fight what is inevitable, then we can strive to find a better solution, one that suits Jim’s needs and meets our conditions to ensure his well-being. I assure you, I have no more desire to see Jim act on a reckless impulse than you do.”

McCoy seems to deflate. “Well… I guess following Jim into the unknown is better than watching him go alone.”

How strange, Jon observes, that Spock isn’t showing the typical disinclination for physical contact with McCoy as he normally does with others. Nor does Spock seem inclined to let Leonard go until Leonard looks less devastated. Will Leonard catch on to that? Doubtful.

Spock and McCoy are going to survive this rough patch, Jonathan can tell. There’s something to be said for relationships built on the kind of candor those two use with each other.

Without doubt, Kirk has got some intense, loyal people surrounding him. Jim might have benefited from hearing this conversation too, but since he has taken so long to use the bathroom…

Jon halts that thought, doubles back to consider it more carefully—and gasps.

Swinging around the corner with a strangled cry, he pelts straight through the embrace of Spock and McCoy, who leap apart at his sudden appearance. Jonathan barrels through the restroom door and bellows across the stalls, “KIRK!”

No answer. A frantic search from stall to stall proves that the restroom is empty as suspected. Further damning evidence is a small window on the far wall that sits ajar.

“Shit,” Jon curses.

McCoy and Spock enter the bathroom. When Jim’s boyfriend takes in the open, empty stalls and the window, he says, “Oh god,” and runs for the window, which is situated higher than he is tall to cry, “Jim!”

Jon runs the opposite way, out of the bathroom. In the hallway, he pauses long enough to get his bearings, do a quick-and-dirty mental recall of the blueprints to the precinct (something he memorized in the first month of dating Pike on a whim that he might one day need to sneak into the station to see his beloved—Pike had figured out his plan, though, and vowed to shoot Jon on site if he tried). Then Jon is running again, headed to the back of the station through the women’s locker room, down another corridor and piggy-backing through Evidence Storage due to one officer being too startled to gather his wits and stop Archer. Jon locates the door he is looking for and yanks on the emergency bar. A red light flashes along with the cry of an alarm, and then Jonathan is outside, blinking against terribly bright sunlight and standing in the middle of a fenced-in yard.

Peering sideways, he spies his quarry. A figure Archer doesn’t notice detaches from the wall when he moves in that direction and blocks his path.

With the sweetest smile, Uhura calls over her shoulder, “No problem, boys, I’ll handle this!”

The next thing Jonathan knows, the world has flipped over. When his senses finally stop swirling, his nose is mashed into the grass and the weight pressing against his shoulder is a heeled boot. Uhura’s boot.

Nyota has a hold on one of his arms, which is twisted behind him and going numb.

“Ugh,” he complains to the Kirk-shaped shadow that appears within proximity to his face, “why do your friends keep doing this to me?”

Uhura’s boot disappears off his shoulder, allowing Jon to take hold of the hand offering to help him up.

“Sorry,” Jim apologizes, and begins to brush grass off Archer’s Sheriff’s jacket once Jon is steady on his feet.

“Not really,” Nyota disagrees. “I’ve been dying to practice that move on someone.”

Jon runs a hand down his face and decides it’s best not to respond.

Somebody waves in his peripheral vision. “Can we get back to our plan?”

Jon’s head snaps around. “You!”

“Aye,” Montgomery Scott agrees in an aggrieved tone, “me.” Then he rolls his eyes over to Kirk. “Why again was it important tae have the sheriff around?”

“Because,” Jim begins, but then only blinks instead of answering.

Nyota sighs. “Monty, I explained this to you many times. Sheriff Archer is dating Mr. Pike, so now Jim has a cop dad and a cop mom. Basically it’s good for us, legally speaking.”

Jim’s eyes are suddenly shining. “They’ll arrest us.”

Nyota finishes with a grin, “But not prosecute!”

Jon hasn’t gotten past the first part: “Why am I the mom?”

Equally confused, Scott shrugs.

“JIM!”

Leonard McCoy barrels through the fire exit, looking winded, livid, and no small amount of terrified. Spock trots through the same door in a calmer manner, but the glint in his dark eyes says he is not particularly pleased by Kirk’s disappearing act either.

McCoy gesticulates wildly to the open window farther along the building and grabs a hold of Jim to yell at him, “A grown man can’t fit through that damn thing! What did you do to yourself?”

Jim tries to placate his boyfriend. “Bones, really, it’s okay. I used that window all the time when I was a kid. And see? I still fit!”

Leonard’s response is a glare and a quick pat-down of his boyfriend’s limbs. Jim yelps when the man reaches his hip.

Jonathan now has a second mission. Help McCoy put tons of weight on Kirk to keep him from squeezing through any more police station windows. He hides his worry by drawling, “Is there a reason you couldn’t use the door like a normal person?”

Jim smiles wryly. “Because that door,” he explains, indicating the one leading to the enclosed yard, “brings policemen.”

And sure enough, two uniformed men jerk open the door on cue, drawing up short upon seeing their little party gathered in the yard. One of them appears to recognize Kirk because he mutters to his partner, “Pike’s kid,” and they take their hands off their holstered guns and disappear back inside the building.

Jon stares at the door until it has swung completely shut.

Jim sighs. “No fun. I bet they deactivated the alarm.”

“Kiddo, you have a weird definition of fun.”

“And you’re pissing your boyfriend off,” Leonard growls.

Jim offers said boyfriend a crooked smile and the poor excuse, “I can’t help it that you’re pissed.”

“Okay,” Jon declares in what he hopes is a responsible adult voice before McCoy decides to strangle Jim, “I need answers. Kirk, explain, now.”

“How can I explain if I don’t know the question?”

“I am wondering that also,” Spock interjects.

Jon and Leonard shush the dark-haired man at the same time, then stare at each other for an awkward span of seconds.

Jon clears his throat. “Question one.” He points to Scott. “Where in the hell has this goober been?”

“Hey,” Scott pipes up, “who’re you calling a goober!”

“For the record, I seriously regret releasing all of you from jail.” He addresses Kirk, “Since your friend is out of hiding, am I to assume you don’t think his life is in danger anymore?”

Kirk sobers. “Scotty’s offered to help us. I won’t let harm come to him.”

Jon draws his eyebrows together. “I didn’t ask that. Why did you call him here?”

“I didn’t,” Jim says at the same time Nyota and Scotty say, “We called Jim.”

“Because Sulu called us,” Nyota adds, “since he couldn’t reach Kirk, Spock, or McCoy.” She pauses. “Or you.”

Jon resists the urge to check his cell phone for missed calls. Come to think of it, it’s probably dead since he hasn’t charged it in a while.

“In short,” he summarizes, “this request to meet Kirk prompted him to climb out a tiny window and—” He peers upwards. “—over an extremely tall fence. Obviously you all thought it made zero sense to meet in the parking lot.” And God help them if he’s right.

Jim spins away and goes to the edge of the chain link fence. He stoops down there and pushes aside a rock, then peels back a corner of the fence. Replacing everything to make the fence look whole, he returns to the group and simply looks at Jon.

Jon isn’t going to ask how many other escape routes have been created over the years so Jim can come and go from his father’s station as he pleases. The less Archer knows, the fewer secrets he will be obligated to keep secret from Pike. Truly, what had raising this boy been like?

Jon lets those thoughts go and asks Nyota, “What did Sulu say?”

Nyota looks to Kirk. At Kirk’s nod, she says, “Sulu and Chekov caught your mole.”

Jon’s throat is suddenly so tight he finds it difficult to swallow. “…Who?”

Uhura’s expression softens, then, as though she finally understands she is relaying unfortunate news. She says a name.

Archer slams his eyes shut but opens them again within a second. Focusing on a small ant hill nestled in the grass between Kirk and Scott, he gives himself the necessary time to reorient his thinking and acknowledge both anguish and relief. “All right,” he asserts with less inflection than before, “I’ll take care of it.”

Kirk corrects, “We’ll take care of it. Together.”

Jon bristles. “He’s my responsibility.”

“But our lead. To discover what Nero is up to, we need him. Sulu and Chekov can trail him for as long as it takes to pinpoint a location. Scotty’s going to rig a tracker.”

“Actually,” offers the man in question with more enthusiasm, “I’m going to create a device that I guarantee your deputy cannae recognize! Then I’ll hook it up to all our—”

“Scotty,” Jim interrupts, amused. “Later.”

Scott eyes Kirk. “I dinnae know why I help you, lad.”

“Because Jim is the only person who understands the things you like to talk about,” McCoy points out.

“Aye,” Scott agrees affably. “That he does.”

Spock is looking between Scott and Kirk with a slight crease to his forehead. “That statement is incorrect. I also understand the minutiae of electrical engineering. Mr. Scott, if you require—”

Leonard elbows Spock in the side, and Spock turns to him, looking no less confused but nonetheless withholding the remainder of his remark.

“Back to the topic at hand, Sheriff, I think Jim has a point.”

Jim looks to McCoy, eyes suddenly wide. “You do?”

“Yeah,” Leonard replies, sounding resigned, “I do. Since it’s obvious we’re going to see this thing through, we have to do it together.” To Jon, he says, “How you handle your deputy is your business, but can you at least hold off on detaining him until after we figure out whether or not Nero has Mr. Pike?”

Jon nods. “I can do that.”

“Okay.” McCoy glances at Spock. “We’re on the same wavelength then.”

“We are,” Spock replies, and though no one else may recognize the unspoken acknowledgement between Spock and McCoy, Jon does. They have officially declared their intention to align themselves and present a united front.

Jon switches his gaze to Kirk, who is watching Spock and McCoy with a slight furrow between his eyebrows.

“Jim,” he questions, “remember what I said about being partners?”

Jim turns to face him. “Yes, sir.”

“Well, partner, there is something I need to tell you. Earlier I think you saw some of it on that board.”

Jim steps forward, to him, with that strangely calm response again. “Tell me.”

Everyone else, too, has grown quiet to listen.

Jon says plainly, “As you know, from the beginning this case hasn’t given us much to work with. Yet with each clue we find, the more irrefutable the scenario becomes.”

“Which scenario specifically?” Spock inquiries.

“The kidnapping as a ruse.”

Kirk says nothing, just as he said little in the conference room. Scott’s gaze widens. Nyota looks incredulous, and Leonard simply watches Jim with worry.

Archer sighs. “This implies the reality is much worse.”

“What is the reality?” Jim asks softly.

Between today’s squaring off with Marcus and the enlightening conversation with Liu, Jon simply cannot deny his gut feeling any longer. “Your father’s being framed,” he states.

Spock cocks his head.

Nyota demands, “For what?”

Jon sighs again. “Our million dollar question, folks.”

Briefly Jim closes his eyes. When he opens them again, he announces flatly, “I don’t care why. The mission stands. We get my dad back.”

“Then what, Jim?” Leonard challenges. “The truth prevails? Your father might be in handcuffs if we don’t think this through!”

“As long as he stays alive, Bones. I won’t lose another parent.”

Ah, kiddo, Jon sympathizes.

Spock is the one to suggest, “Given his experience, perhaps Sheriff Archer can offer a compromise.”

Kirk, Leonard, and the others turn expectantly to Archer.

At times like this, Jon thrives under pressure. “Easy as pie,” he boasts, hooking his thumbs into the waistline of his pants, “and my favorite method for stopping bad guys. Kirk, I bet you can guess this one. You did a pretty decent job of it last Christmas.”

“Sabotage?” Jim responds.

“Ding-ding-ding!” Jon beams. “What a smart boy you are!”

Leonard lays a hand across his eyes. “Oh god.”

Nyota looks to Spock. “Isn’t that how Archer talks to his dog?”

“I suspect the Sheriff may desire Jim as a prized pupil. In researching his past, it seems Archer also spent his youth as a juvenile delinquent.”

Now Uhura considers Archer with more interest.

Jon would be affronted but he is much too curious to know how Spock dug up records that he had had sealed by the director of his police academy. Then he glances at Jim and realizes with a growing apprehension that Kirk actually might not find it humorous that his father is dating a former law-breaker.

Arms crossed, Jim studies Jon from head to toe like there might be something different about his appearance. Then his eyes meet Jonathan’s. “I stole a car at eleven.”

Unthinking, Jon counters, “When I was ten, I stole a tractor and mowed down all the pasture fences around town so the cows could escape.”

Jim breaks into a grin. “Cool.”

“It’s like I’m in a nightmare,” groans McCoy, “and I can’t wake up.”

The back door to the building slams open without warning, and Liu is there, glaring at all of them from the doorway. “Inside,” she orders.

Jon is fairly certain Jim’s woeful look is a mirror of his own. “You can go first,” he offers.

“No way,” Jim objects. “You go first—hey, Bones!” Kirk’s protests are no match for his boyfriend’s determination to haul him away. After Kirk and McCoy disappear through the doorway, Spock pauses long enough to incline his head respectfully at Archer and say, “I have your records in safe-keeping.” Locking his hands behind his back, he follows the pair.

Uhura floats by. “That means we own you now.”

“Cows,” Scott marvels and goes after her.

Archer looks up at the cloudless blue sky and wonders if he has become victim to a cosmic joke; yet at the same time he is able to admit that he is not as distressed as he should be, or perhaps as he would have been only one year ago. Pike has a great kid—kids, really, since Kirk’s friends have lately become a package deal.

Strange, Jon muses, that he kind of wishes he could be the mom.

Shaking off these peculiar thoughts, he heads inside to find out just what Liu is going to do once everyone is wrangled together. It’s certain to be an event of the century!

“Chris,” he whispers, closing the door behind him, “I wish you could see us now.”

~~~

A grandfather clock sounds from a hallway, chiming the change in hour. With it comes the sounds of voices, one voice in particular approaching the spacious living room where Pike resides. Hearing that voice prompts Pike to take a large mouthful of brandy and swallow it all-at-once. Coughing slightly from the fiery trail it creates down his throat, he then swivels around on his bar stool and pins the newcomer with a bland look.

“You’re late,” he chides.

“Didn’t expect you to hold me to a schedule,” responds Marcus, who waves one of Kor’s men back into the hallway. He tips his head to encompass the lavish surroundings. “Comfortable?”

Chris lifts his glass. “The hospitality is decent.”

“Mm.” Marcus joins Pike at the bar. “I hear Kor’s excited.”

“One of his runners showed up about an hour ago with a request to see him. Did you know this house has its own study? And a guest parlor? I feel like I’m stuck in a scene from The Godfather,” Chris chuckles.

Marcus glances sidelong at him. “Did he tell you what the runner wanted?”

“Kor isn’t going to share information about his illegal activities with a cop.”

“I thought you would have buddied up to him by now.”

It is easy for Chris to adopt an incredulous tone. “He’s still a criminal, Alex—and my kidnapper.”

Marcus plants an elbow on the counter and relaxes against it in the same way he used to when they would hang out in one of the local bars after closing a case together. The sense of nostalgia that overwhelms Chris is coupled with a moment’s regret. When Chris was promoted to Senior Detective, his relationship with Alex became more competitive. They retreated to a surface friendliness, sacrificing the closeness they used to have for the sake of ambition. And now, he knows, that connection shall never be regained. All that will remain is a bitterness to last beyond the flesh.

Marcus is still talking. “If Kor doesn’t hear from Nero soon, we’ll have to speed things up. Are you prepared?”

“That depends on what you mean by ‘speed things up’,” Chris replies.

“What if you called Jim?”

Pike’s head snaps around. “What?”

“Tell him you’re okay, that you’re preoccupied but should be home soon.”

“I will not make my son an accomplice,” he states in a steely tone.

“I said nothing about making him an accomplice. Ease his worry about his old man.”

Chris’s voice turns colder. “You know very well if I make Jim think I set up a charade, he won’t tell anyone, and eventually someone will figure out he hasn’t disclosed all that he knows.”

Marcus’s mouth twitches. “At least what the kid lacks in common sense, he makes up for with loyalty.”

Chris has to look away or he’ll do something untoward to Marcus. “Using Jim is out of the question. If you want to push up the timeline, give Liu my gun.”

“The gun is useless without a body, and the body has gone to Nero, which is out of her jurisdiction.” Marcus softens his tone suddenly. “However, we do know the law in that dirtbag’s territory, don’t we?”

Chris can tell this is a test of some kind. “Jonathan Archer, you mean?”

“Archer,” Marcus repeats. “A friend of yours, I hear.”

Chris hasn’t only spent this past hour wondering about Kor’s visitor but also thinking about Jon. The only reason he can come up with to explain why Archer wasn’t at the press conference is that Jon has likely involved himself in the investigation and is being careful not to own up to being family.

Alex is hinting at something which might solve this mystery, so Chris is willing to play along. “Where did you hear that?”

“From the man himself.” Straightening up and crossing his arms, Marcus elucidates, “Archer showed up and wormed his way into our captain’s good graces. She gave him access to our resources.”

“That sounds like him.”

“The man’s an asshole.”

Chris suppresses a spark of anger. “He’s that too.”

“Why’s a sheriff from another county so concerned with you, Chris? And your son, too.”

Chris is so relieved that he has a difficult time hiding it. “For one thing, he’s handling Jim’s case.”

“That’s it?”

Marcus wants him to say something else. But what?

“Interesting,” remarks the other man, as if he has forgotten his own question. “Then Archer knows he shouldn’t be on your case. Conflict of interest.”

Chris doesn’t like the sound of that. “Why does it bother you that he is involved?”

Marcus’s eyes become hooded. “Because he’s getting in my way.”

Silence overtakes them until Chris pushes his glass aside and turns to face Marcus fully. “Here’s a friendly warning, Alex: Jonathan Archer isn’t someone you can take on by yourself. He may act like the town fool but he’s practically running an entire county on his own. Has been for a long while. Do you know why? Because during his first term he scared most of the kingpins out of town, flipped the bureaucracy on its head, and refused to take shit from anyone. He earned his badge the hard way. You don’t mess with a guy like that.”

“Sounds like you respect him.”

“I do,” Chris replies seriously. “My advice is stay off his radar. By the time we’ve done what we need to, he will have gotten bored and gone home.”

Marcus drops his head and lifts his hand to his temple as if he has a headache but his shoulders quiver as if he’s laughing. When he looks up again, the amusement on his face isn’t mirrored in his wintry eyes.

“You never did lie very well, Christopher.” Marcus lowers his hand to Pike’s shoulder, clamping down there in a painful grip. “Why don’t we try honesty for a change?”

Chris tenses under the hand.

Drawing in closer, Marcus murmurs, “I know you have a dirty little secret. I admit, I always thought it was Liu. Maybe she favored you because you were sleeping with her.”

“What? No,” Chris denies. “I don’t sleep with married women, let alone one who is my superior officer. You know me better than that.”

Marcus gives him a thin smile. “Apparently I don’t know you at all. You refuse to screw a married woman but you’ll fuck a man.”

It’s difficult not to give Marcus the satisfaction of a reaction but Pike thinks he manages well. “I think you did more snooping in my house than just locating my gun.”

“You didn’t take precautions to hide the evidence,” counters Marcus. “Who’s the boyfriend, Pike? No, wait. That’s an easy guess. Archer.”

Pike narrows his eyes. “I’m not ashamed of who I bed, Alex—not that my personal life is any of your business.”

Marcus draws back slightly with a look of contempt. “It makes sense now why you’re so tolerant of that queer we hired last year for Reception.”

Chris couldn’t be more disgusted. “When did you become such a bigot? Or have you always hidden your real self behind another face?”

Marcus’s hand shoots from Chris’s shoulder to his hair, wrenching his head back at a painful angle. “Now, now, Chris, that’s not a very nice thing to say to the man who mentored you.”

The burning in Chris’s throat is rising bile. Just thinking about how he respected Alex, trusted him for years as a friend, sickens him—and makes him extremely angry. He wishes he hadn’t let go of his tumbler. He could shove it into Marcus’s face.

That sentiment must show, for the man states in triumph, “You hate me. Good. Finally, the feeling is mutual.”

“The only difference being that I never betrayed you.” Chris grimaces when Marcus wrenches his head back even farther. “Admit it, you decided to hate me because the alternative is to hate yourself.”

For some reason, Marcus releases him then, backing off. Chris realizes belatedly he should have expected what would come next just from the flicker of cruel anticipation in the other man’s eyes; but Pike doesn’t and the punch catches him off-guard, sends him careening sideways against the bar. His elbow knocks off his nearly empty glass of brandy, which shatters across Kor’s expensive tiled floor.

Marcus locks his fingers into the front of Pike’s shirt. “I’m going to enjoy this, Chris. And when I stand in front of your son afterwards, I will think about how good it felt to ruin you. But don’t you worry about Jimmy. I plan to take care of his future. He’ll need a mentor, same as you did all those years ago.”

The sound that bursts out of Chris is the unadulterated rage of a parent whose child is in danger. There’s no room to think, only to act, and he does, driving his whole body into Marcus’s and sending them tumbling backwards to the rug. He lands a solid punch to Marcus’s jaw before Marcus flips him sideways and drives a boot into his solar plexus.

Distantly, over the ringing in his ears, Chris hears the sound of running, of alarmed shouting. Marcus spits something out in Kor’s men’s native tongue. Chris uses the opportunity to launch himself back into the man’s mid-section. Once Marcus is flat on his back again, Chris pins him with a knee in his ribcage and wraps his hands around the man’s throat. He tastes blood in his mouth, having bitten his tongue at some point.

Marcus makes a choked sound; laughter, Chris comprehends. The bastard is laughing.

Only then does Pike see the movement in his peripheral vision, but he can’t move aside without letting go of his captive, and there’s nothing he wants more in that moment than to ring the very life out of Alexander Marcus. The blow to the back of his head isn’t enough to knock him completely out; he comes to on his side, the sound of Marcus’s laughter still ringing in his ears.

Kor looms overhead with a expression of displeasure. “Don’t kill him,” Kor orders, speaking not to Chris about Marcus but to the men circling around Pike like vultures over prime carrion. “Nero has requested that we bring him alive.”

Chris tries to get out of the way of the first well-aimed kick, but his body is too sluggish to respond. All he can do under the assault of Kor’s men is protect himself by curling inwards and gritting his teeth against the stabbing pain. But someone doesn’t appreciate Pike’s attempts to minimize the damage, for he is soon dragged backwards by his shirt collar. Marcus, now back on his feet, has a hold of him.

“Let me help you,” Marcus tells Kor, smirking, and draws back a fist.

Chris bares his bloody teeth. “My son,” he vows, concerned about only one thing, “will never be corrupted by the likes of you.”

“Then I’ll dispose of him too,” Marcus promises, and this time the blow to the head allows Chris to sink into oblivion.

Next Part

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• Holiday Revenge (9/12) – from January 3, 2017

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