Title: Ready, Set, RUN! (8/?)
Author: klmeri
Fandom: Star Trek AOS
Characters: Kirk, Spock, McCoy
Summary: Playtime!verse one-shot, set between Playtime and The Good Life. Pike spends a weekend with the boys.
Previous Part: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

Part Eight

It happens thus:

Jimmy insists that he be allowed to at least look at the San Francisco Bay. “I wanna go over there, Mr. Pike!”

Pike eyes the short pier with trepidation—no railings, unevenly spaced boards and an expanse of dark water calmly lapping beneath.

Spock is frozen where he stands, as if the thought of approaching anything wet repeals him. “I will remain with Mr. Archer and his—” The Vulcan observes Porthos, who sighs mightily, for a moment.

“Dog,” inputs McCoy. “That’s a dog.”

“I am aware of the local terminology for this creature.”

Lenny crosses his arms. “Then say it. DOG.”

“I will remain with Mr. Archer and Porthos,” Spock states to Mr. Pike, ignoring McCoy.

“Porthos always appreciates company,” supplies Jonathan with a grin at the small Vulcan.

“I suspect that he is indifferent,” Spock answers. “When I advance to the next level of telepathic training, I will confirm this by communicating directly with Porthos’ mind.” He pauses. “If Porthos is indeed how the canine wishes to be addressed.”

Pike laughs softly because Jon’s expression is half-disbelief and half-curiosity.

“When… will you be able to talk to my beagle?” asks Archer.

Spock is quiet for all of the five seconds it takes to calculate a response. “In precisely ten point four nine years.”

“Ha!” interrupts Lenny. He points his finger at the Vulcan. “Four nine! Where’s t’other one? You always say another number!”

Spock stiffens. “I do not understand.”

Pike tells McCoy, “Don’t pick on your friend, Leonard.”

The boy frowns. “But he always says another number ‘cuz he thinks he’s smarter than us and ‘cuz he is gooder at numbers.”

“Better,” corrects Pike. “And yes, Spock is better at numbers. Math is one of the fortes of Vulcans.”

“I can add,” Lenny insists. “What else is there?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Pike notices that Jimmy is staring off into the distance with that trademark intense look of concentration. He clears his throat and shifts on his feet, prepared to step in between Kirk and whatever plans Kirk is dreaming up.

Spock, fortunately, realizes that his mathematical integrity is being questioned. “The number system is the basic code in which the science of mathematics builds upon; it is merely an introduction into a diverse and infinite range of possible avenues for knowledge.”

McCoy is stubbornly unimpressed. “I can subtract too.”

Pike sighs. “Spock, don’t worry about Leonard’s education. He will—” catch up? No, probably not, as Vulcans outpace humans with finesse in areas of science by a wide margin. “—understand a little better someday.”

Spock accepts Pike’s wisdom with a solemn nod.

Lenny is about to argue, rant, or scowl fiercely but before he does any—or all—of the three, Kirk leans in to whisper something in McCoy’s ear. The dark-haired boy closes his mouth, shrugs, and turns back to Spock. “Captain says debriefing in five.”

“That will be acceptable.”

The word “debriefing” strikes terror into Pike’s heart. He clearly recalls the usual events that follow on the heels of a debriefing from the days of Little Star Academy; it often ended in Pike pulling tape out of a traumatized postal worker’s hair while trying to explain to a group of children that the mailman is not, nor has ever been, a delinquent space pirate.

Then Leonard McCoy walks over to Pike, grabs a handful of his shirt and reels the adult down to his level.

“Yes, Lenny?”

“Once the Captain’s had his swim, can we go for hot dogs?”

It takes a moment too long for those words to ripen in Pike’s brain; only Jonathan’s bellow of “Kid about to drown!” has Christopher spinning around and taking off in pursuit of the boy who starts running the moment he is spied sneaking away.

Jimmy is fast, young, and full of dangerous ideas with little mature sense to combat them.

Pike has aching knees, twice as much grey hair as he did yesterday, and plenty of adult wisdom but no way to convince a small mischievous boy to listen other than by shaking the child like a rattle.

“Jimmy! Stay away from the water!”

The boy does the unexpected by veering to the right the moment he is one step from skipping onto the pier (and subsequently can slip between the gaps of the boards and sink into the bay; Pike pictures this scenario with ease and horror). Kirk disappears around the side of wide, wooden post and underneath the pier, instead.

Pike is panting by the time he catches up and almost slips in the mud as he scrambles down an incline to the shore of the bay. There are only elongated, dark shadows and the sound of water gently breaking against the beams of the pier.

His heart beats in time to the mantra of Kirk’s name in his head. “Jimmy?”

He sees a flash of movement behind a beam and strides over to catch the miscreant before the boy can dash away again. Jimmy peeks out, realizes the adult has discovered his hiding spot and sprints to the next beam for safety. His shirt, the glimpse that Pike is presented with, is already streaked with slime and dirt.

They play this game for several minutes, skirting the water’s edge and running from beam to beam. Pike is hampered by the fact that he is too tall and has to hunker down like an idiot while attempting to grab a tiny, pelting child who laughs with glee each time that Pike is too slow. His back protests every movement fiercely; his head aches from unfortunate contact with solid wood.

Eventually, the man concedes “You win!” Deciding that his pants are beyond salvaging, Pike finds a less-than-usual muddy spot to toss his sweater over and sits down. For three minutes there is blessed silence and no Kirk while the boy tries to decide if this is a ploy of Mr. Pike’s to catch him.

“Mr. Pike?”

He says nothing and sighs into a hand.

“Mr. Pike?” Jimmy has figured out that Pike doesn’t want to play anymore.

“I’m not very happy with you right now,” he tells Kirk.

“Why?”

Again, Pike opts to say nothing. Instead, he waits.

Jimmy meets him silence for silence and finally trots into view, though the child lingers where the water meets the land. His shoe scuffs at a rock or something equally mysterious that Pike can’t see. The man watches as Jimmy squats down then and sticks his fingers into a puddle of water.

Archer finds them like that. An eyebrow lifts in the direction of Pike, as if to say Are you daft? Why are you lying about?

Lenny and Spock flank either side of Jonathan; Porthos is elsewhere. Pike thinks there is a dog-like blur farther in the distance, drinking out of the San Francisco Bay. (It’s a good thing that Jon has his back to that.) The Vulcan is expressionless but his eyes dart over to Jimmy. It is unsurprising, Spock’s blatant (for a Vulcan) dislike of his close proximity to the water.

McCoy calls, “Captain!”

Captain Kirk stands up.

Mr. Spock walks under the pier, followed by the Chief Medical Officer. Jonathan makes a face of pain as he practically crawls to Pike’s side.

“Cozy,” says the older man as he pokes at a moldy green substance that has dripped onto the sleeve of his shirt.

Pike rolls his eyes.

Kirk initiates the meeting. “Hello.”

Spock lifts his splayed fingers in the traditional Vulcan hello.

“I ain’t got all day” is McCoy’s reply.

With easy understanding, the bright blue-eyed child nods. “Tomorrow you ‘n Spock are going away.” The words are said with seriousness and only a hint of complaint.

“Affirmative.”

Kirk looks at his friends and Pike is struck by an image of the child as an adult. A strange pride fills him.

Lenny seems to know where this conversation is headed. “We’ll come back.” He glances at the Vulcan next to him. “Won’t we?”

“Affirmative.”

Jimmy presents each of his friends with a pebble from the ground. “Don’t forget.”

Lenny takes his gift. “Okay.”

“I shall not forget,” Spock promises his captain.

Pike’s heart is melting just a little by the time Porthos wanders in. The dog trots past the trio and settles his belly and back legs in the lukewarm water of the bay, gives a content groan and licks dirt off of his nose.

Jonathan, next to Pike, groans too. “Do you know how much a decent professional dog groomer in this city costs?”

“Jon, that wet mutt is not riding in my car.”

“Well, I ain’t calling a cab, sweetheart. Deal with it.”

Jimmy and Lenny say simultaneously, “Hot dogs?” Spock offers his silent approval of this idea, probably because he is more than ready to be away from the high probability of being splashed by a playful Kirk neck-deep in water. Pike too agrees that the “outing” has come to a conclusion.

He nudges Jon into action with his elbow. When the man is too preoccupied with fussing over the beagle who seems to happy to remain where he is, Pike gives up and ushers the children out from under the pier.

Jonathan will catch up. Sooner or later.

Jimmy lets McCoy and Spock lead so that he can walk alongside the Admiral. When a small hand cautiously touches the side of Pike’s, Christopher opens his hand and allows the boy to hold onto him. His anger has dissipated because of a simple, now-obvious fact. He asks, already knowing the answer, “You wanted to go down to the water to find goodbye presents for your friends, didn’t you, son?”

The boy nods.

“Next time, just tell me that and we’ll look together. If you want it to be a surprise, you can whisper it in my ear and I promise we will find a way to get what you need.”

“Okay.”

They walk back to the car without incident. As Pike is painstakingly attempting not to notice the sandy shoes in his car or the trail of black smudged fingerprints on its leather seats, Jonathan dumps a wet and smelly Porthos into the front seat. “No more pond-wallowing for you, old boy,” Archer scolds his dog.

Pike sets his teeth, starts the car when everyone is settled, and drives around to find a place that will accept a group of disheveled adults and dirty children. He finally supposes that any fast food restaurant will do, so long as he has plenty of money in his bank account to cover the inevitable fees (enough to feed a small village and pay damages alike).

At the counter of a Stop and Shake burger shack, Lenny demands a hot dog with lots of mustard (“‘n no ketchup, Mr. Pike, ‘cuz ketchup is girly”). Spock pontificates on the production of the french fry and bombards the cashier with questions. When Pike says, pitying the fresh-faced young man with confusion written on his face, “French fries won’t hurt you, Spock,” the Vulcan considers Mr. Pike for only a moment before turning back to the cashier. “We will require a notarized copy of your annual food safety audit report before we may proceed with our order.” Pike prompts the baby Vulcan (turned tenacious health inspector) to tag along with Jonathan and asks the pair to find a table.

Jimmy eats two large orders (Spock’s and his) and then one of Lenny’s hot dogs. The boy’s stomach bulges beneath his shirt at the overindulgence, and Christopher is left to wonder how a child can eat a bucket full of ice cream and then some two hours later consume enough food for two adults.

McCoy, on the other hand, slowly puts down a half-eaten hot dog, looks at Pike and remarks, “I may throw up on you.”

All things considered, Lenny is courteous enough to give fair warning.

Pike is extremely tired once they arrive home. When he falls asleep late into the night, having stayed up with McCoy through another bout of stomach sickness and comforted the child, it is with the lingering knowledge that tomorrow he will be both happy and sad that the weekend is over.

Next Part

Related Posts:

• Ready, Set, RUN! (9/9) – from February 18, 2011
• Ready, Set, RUN! (7/?) – from February 10, 2011
• Ready, Set, RUN! (6/?) – from February 3, 2011
• Ready, Set, RUN! (5/?) – from January 31, 2011
• Ready, Set, RUN! (4/?) – from January 23, 2011