Title: Along Comes a Stranger (21/?)
Author: klmeri
Fandom: Star Trek AOS
Pairing: Kirk/Spock/McCoy
Summary: AU. Jim’s life in Riverside is uncomplicated until two men, both equally mysterious and compelling, arrive in town, bringing with them the promise of change.
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Part Twenty-One

On a day Jim is minding his own business in The Diner, head bent over a cup of coffee which he pensively contemplates, someone ruins it without a qualm. That someone is Marlena Moreau, the very person he is trying to ignore on his solitary lunch break.

But she is having none of that.

The waitress brushes an arm against him for the fifth time as she refreshes his coffee. He automatically shifts away, tightening his self-control.

Jim is supposed to keep his mouth shut and trust in Spock to handle the situation.

Four days later and Marlena is still a threat—and she knows it. “How was your sandwich, Jim?” the black-haired woman asks with a coo.

He shrugs, pushing his plate to the side. He had lost his appetite the moment Marlena took his order instead of Uhura, almost jumping at the chance to serve him with an innocent smile on her face. It seems the woman’s new mission is to make him as uncomfortable as possible.

Jim pulls out his wallet, intending to keep his lunch break short, but Marlena’s hand on his arm causes him to freeze in place.

“Oh, I need your opinion on something!” she says, like she’s going to ask if the color of her dress will please Leonard.

He glances over his shoulder and around the diner for a distraction. “Don’t you have other customers to harass?”

Her eyes grow chilly but her smile never falters. “It won’t take but a minute, Jim. Don’t be like this.”

Jim looks at her. “How do you want me to be then? Perfectly content to watch you ruin a good man’s life because of your selfishness?”

Marlena drops all pretense of a pleasant attitude. She snatches her arm back and wipes her hand on her apron like he is disgusting to touch. “What do you know!” Her eyes travel up and down his person and the tone of her voice indicates that she finds him lacking in some essential way. “You and your precious mother—the beloved Kirks of Riverside! You pretend to care about everyone but, really, you want to keep people in your debt, don’t you?”

He is stunned by the accusation. “You’re wrong. It’s not like that, Marlena.”

She leans in to say in a harsh whisper, “All your do-gooding has a price, Kirk, and one day your friends will figure that out. I rather pity them.” Then the woman steps back, and after a toss of her hair and straightening her skirt, the angry side of Marlena is hidden again beneath the exterior of her wickedly curved lips and beautiful face.

Jim says nothing, simply places a sufficient amount of money by the diner’s cash register and walks to the exit.

Uhura hurries up to him as he reaches for the door handle. “Jim, what was that?”

“What was what?” he asks mildly, turning.

Nyota considers him for a brief moment. “Marlena’s a real bitch sometimes. Whatever venom she’s spouting today, ignore her.”

“You have my word that I will,” he promises and kisses her quickly on the cheek to indicate that he isn’t in a sour mood (which is a lie).

Nyota sighs and returns to work.

Then Jim turns to the door again and almost collides with a man coming through it. He begins to apologize but the words die his throat when he recognizes the other man.

Trelane looks amused. “Do pardon me! I believe I was not paying close attention to my surroundings.” Trelane’s mouth curves at Jim’s lack of response.

“Oh, Trelane!”

Trelane’s smile fully forms into a grin as he manages to appear surprised at Marlena rushing over. “Hello, dear. I hope you aren’t overly busy.”

Marlena is lit with a genuine glow. Trelane casually draws her in for a kiss and afterwards settles a hand at the small of her back.

At last, the waitress seems to notice that Jim is standing there. She looks from Jim to Trelane, lips pursed, and says almost coquettishly, “Trelane, darling, I haven’t introduced you to—”

“James Tiberius Kirk,” cuts in Trelane smoothly. He meets Jim’s eyes. “He’s exactly like you described him, Marlena. How quaint.”

“Quaint isn’t the word I would use,” she retorts. Then she tugs on Trelane’s arm. “Wait here. I want to tidy up first.”

“You are always beautiful,” the man responds, not even glancing at her.

Nevertheless, Marlena preens as she walks away, hips swaying, and the staccato of her heels fades into background noise.

Trelane twirls the umbrella in his left hand. “Why, you haven’t said a word, Mr. Kirk!”

Jim isn’t sure that he can speak, not with dread choking him. He tries anyway. “What is there to say?”

“How about ‘what may I do to please you, master?’” By the look in Trelane’s eyes, he is loving his little joke.

Jim has lost his sense of humor in the past few minutes. He bites back a very rude fuck off, asshole. “You aren’t my master,” Kirk says, voice flat and hard, “so don’t expect me to do anything you want.”

Trelane is unperturbed. “We’ll see,” he merely says. “By the way, how is your head injury?”

Jim yanks open the door with more force than necessary and walks out of the diner. Only the door does not shut behind him because Trelane is holding it open with the end of his umbrella.

“Kirk!” calls the politician. “I’ve sent, shall we say, a trifle of a gift your way! Enjoy!”

Jim climbs into his pickup, starts it, and peels out of the parking lot of the diner. When he rolls to a stop at an intersection some blocks away, he realizes that his hands are shaking. Jim drops his forehead to the steering wheel and takes several shallow breaths.

The car behind his pickup blares its horn with impatience. Jim collects himself.

It makes him sick to his stomach wondering what Marlena has told Trelane. Not about him but about Bones and Joanna. And with Trelane backing Marlena, how can Jim—even Spock—hope to keep her from blackmailing McCoy?

“What’s bothering you, Jim?” Bones asks as they relax that evening in the apartment.

Jim drags his eyes away from the television and sips at his beer. “Nothing, really. I need a part for one of my projects at work and it might take some time to find it.”

Leonard settles on the couch beside him. “Are you sure that’s it?”

Jim smiles at McCoy. “What are you—my mother?” he jokes.

The corner of Leonard’s mouth quirks. “Hardly. But if I were, I’d be wondering why I didn’t stick with the birth control pills.”

He grins. “You know you love me.”

“I might,” says his roommate, slouching and stealing the remote control off of Jim’s thigh.

They enjoy a companionable silence for the next hour, though Jim knows McCoy hasn’t dropped the subject entirely. At one point during a commercial break, Leonard remarks out of nowhere, “I’m gonna keep asking until you give me a real answer.”

Jim replies, “I know.” Then the television sitcom is back and he doesn’t have to think for a while.

The man who walks into the garage is not anyone Jim knows. He wipes his hands as best he can on a rag (and his overalls) and calls, “Can I help you, Sir?”

The stranger stops, turns, and glances his way and stiffens almost imperceptibly. Then he approaches Jim, and Jim opens his mouth to repeat his question but the man walks by him dismissively. The man lays his hand on the newly painted red Corvette.

Jim says sharply, “Hey, don’t touch that!”

“Where did you acquire this?” Jim is asked. The man never looks up from his almost greedy perusal of ‘65 Sting Ray.

“It belongs to one of our customers which,” Jim emphasizes, “you are not.”

The man turns to consider Jim, and in turn Jim considers him. He has to be in his 50s, tall, his clothes declaring a moderate wealth; his hair is still quite spectacularly dark expect for elegant graying at the temples, and the structure of the man’s face strikes Jim as familiar, so much so that he wonders should I know him?

Then Kirk sees how the man is standing, with his hands clasped behind his back and not a hint of improper posture.

The stranger lifts one eyebrow, and Jim makes a strangled noise of his disbelief.

“James Kirk, I presume. I am Sarek,” the man introduces himself. “You are… acquainted with my son.”

The way Sarek pauses before finishing that last sentence indicates that Sarek is fully aware of Jim and Spock’s type of acquaintance—even when Jim himself is not certain of what it is.

Jim nods dumbly. “Hello, Mister…” Oh God, what is Spock’s last name? Or is Spock a last name? But it sounds so awkward to say Mr. Sarek Spock!

“Sarek will do,” offers Spock’s father.

Jim steps forward for a handshake, hoping to smooth over his bumbling behavior, but that’s when Jim realizes how he must look. He immediately tucks his offensively grease-blackened hand into a pocket of his overalls to hide it.

Sarek pivots with grace and strides out of the garage, clearly expecting that Jim will follow him. Kirk does so, like an innocent lamb possibly heading to the slaughter house and bleating happily all the way.

He catches up to Sarek. “So, ah, when did you come into town?”

“Recently.”

A black, gleaming Mercedes-Benz sedan is parked by the front entrance of the auto shop—the overly expensive and grandiose kind. Jim doubts Sarek brought it in for repairs.

Nevertheless, he says, “Nice car” in hopes that Sarek is having authentic car trouble (something he can handle) and not just seeking Jim out (something which spooks Jim).

“It is a rental,” replies the older man. “It serves its purpose.”

Meaning, no doubt, that to Sarek it isn’t the best luxury car he has ever made do with. Jim’s inferiority complex is growing by the second.

He clears his throat, only realizing belatedly that Jose has not come out of his office. Jose almost always insists on handling the customers personally; Jim’s boss even makes a point of greeting the mailman every morning.

A bead of sweat trickles down the back of Kirk’s neck. Sarek stands by the Mercedes-Benz, examining Jim in a way not dissimilar to his perusal of the Corvette.

“Where’s, um, where’s Spock?” manages Jim under that penetrating stare. Good, he doesn’t sound too nervous.

“Spock and his mother are improving the suitability of his home.”

Jim thinks Spock’s home is perfectly suitable. Okay, maybe it’s a little intimidating and sterile-feeling but Spock is only one man in a spacious house and he most certainly is not messy. It dawns on Jim that Sarek, like Spock, might not have an issue with the state of the house. That leaves Spock’s mother as the complainant.

Sarek’s deep voice interrupts Jim’s musings. “It is rare that my son calls us for the explicit purpose of proposing a visit.”

Jim’s fingers fiddle with the rag also occupying his pocket. “Spock said something about not having seen his parents in a long time.” Oh jeez, did he just insinuate Sarek is a bad parent?

Foot-in-mouth syndrome is the bane of Jim Kirk’s existence.

“I assure you, that is no fault of my wife’s or mine. Spock insists on his independence. While my wife and I may make the odd exception, we have learned that Spock will initiate a visit when his schedule permits such.”

“I’m sorry,” he almost stammers. “I didn’t meant to imply—”

Sarek opens the driver-side car door, effectively ignoring Jim’s apology. “I am here to extend my wife’s invitation of dinner this evening.” The look Sarek levels is unreadable but Jim has the feeling that he would be making a grave mistake if he declined.

And Jim is too curious to say no, in all truthfulness. Perhaps his “Yes!” is a bit too enthusiastic?

With a nod, Sarek tells Kirk the time to arrive at Spock’s house. Sarek remarks in passing, “I have already spoken with Dr. McCoy. He accepted also. I understand that your only relative in Riverside is your mother, Mr. Kirk. If she so wishes, we would be pleased to have her company as well.”

Jim is of the opinion that the better armed he is—person-wise—at this dinner, the more likely he can deflect Spock’s parents’ conversation onto other various (non-Jim) guests. “I will ask her,” he tells Sarek.

Watching Sarek drive away does not negate his sense of impending doom. Marching back into the garage, Jim finds Jose attempting to look like he hadn’t been secretly spying on Jim’s meeting with Sarek.

“Where were you?” demands Kirk.

Jose snorts. “Hey, I tried to intervene but did you see that guy? I bet my credit limit wouldn’t cover the cost of his shoes! I was basically sent back to my office and told not to interfere.”

Jim asks plaintively, “What if he had been a bad guy, Jose?”

“I only listened because he identified himself as Mr. Spock’s father come to pay a visit to Spock’s ‘much spoken of friend.’” Jose’s eyes spark with interest. He leans forward in his chair. “Why? Do you think the old guy was carrying a gun?”

Jim quivers at the thought. “Of course not. He’s a government official.”

“Which government?”

“UK, I think.” Jim doesn’t like Jose’s expression. “What?”

“He doesn’t sound British.”

Jim rolls his eyes. “So?”

Jose crosses his arms and looks thoughtful. “Maybe it’s a secret branch of the British government.”

“You watch too much Bond, Jose.”

Jose shrugs. “Hey, I said maybe. I’m sure your Mr. Spock has explained exactly what it is that his father does.”

Jim can’t answer that because, in fact, Spock has never talked much about Sarek and what he has said is plenty vague. Jim curses his boss’s name periodically throughout the rest of the day for putting the ridiculous idea into his head.

Completely absurd! Sarek works for the government—doing stuff—and travels a lot and “has connections.” Not secret-agent-like at all.

Later, when Bones leans against the open door of Jim’s bedroom dressed in a pressed suit and tie for the meet-the-family dinner at Spock’s and Jim looks down at his own jeans and slightly wrinkled dress shirt, Jim has the feeling that whatever Sarek actually is, he is completely unprepared to deal with him.

Bones takes pity on his roommate and shows Jim how to iron his clothes into a state of modest respectability. Jim is more confident thereafter, mainly because Bones eyes him in such a way that says Jim looks good.

“Jitters are perfectly normal,” Leonard states matter-of-factly, heading into the living room. “And don’t worry either—Sarek doesn’t bite.”

Yeah, Jim wonders, but can Sarek have Jim disposed of by an assassin on a dark night and have his body hidden in a grave no one will find and then erase James T. Kirk’s entire existence?

Bones would laugh if he said that, so he doesn’t.

At a quarter until seven, Jim’s mother knocks on his apartment door, and Jim tucks his worries into the back of his mind. Winona smiles at McCoy, wipes a smudge from her son’s cheek (Jim doesn’t really think he has a smudge but he is long since used to keeping his protests to himself), and announces brightly, “We’ll have a wonderful time, Jimmy!”

God, he hopes so.

They pile into her truck. On the ride to Spock’s house, Leonard’s hand finds Jim’s in the darkened exterior of the cab and squeezes Jim’s fingers gently. Jim squeezes back, forgetting everything except how glad he is to have Bones next to him. Of course, seeing Spock framed in the doorway of the house as they pull into the driveway reminds Jim that if McCoy is his rock, Spock is McCoy’s—and might be very close to becoming Jim’s too.

Winona Kirk and Amanda Grayson eye each other, smiling pleasantly. Jim stands beside his mother and Spock next to his.

“Spock tells me how extraordinary your son is, Ms. Kirk, and Spock is not easy to impress.” Amanda is disarmingly charming.

Winona demurs, “I would never deny that my son is more than ordinary, of course.” She turns to touch Jim’s cheek with affection. “He has grown into a good man—like his father.”

Amanda’s eyes pin Jim down. He valiantly attempts to stop fidgeting while under the inspection. “I see,” says Amanda Grayson. “Jim—oh, I hope the informality won’t discomfort you.”

He shakes his head. “I prefer it, if you don’t mind, ma’am.”

A quick glance to the side confirms that Leonard is keeping Sarek busy. Jim’s ears catch the words “clinic” and “population” and “decent people.”

Amanda asks, “Jim, do you enjoy the kind of work you do?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answers as guilelessly as possible. He looks at Spock and smiles at the man’s poorly concealed curiosity. “I enjoy it in the same way Spock appreciates his kind of work. I like working with engines, and I guess I’m good at what I do. The best part, though, is that my skill provides a service people need. And lucky for our customers, my boss is an honest guy to do business with. We stay occupied most days.”

Why is Spock’s mother looking at him like that?

“Is your son always so humble?” Spock’s mother asks Jim’s mother.

Winona grins. “Most days,” she echoes. Jim stares at his shoes, knowing his face is turning red.

Amanda laughs, delighted. “I think he could grow on me,” she proclaims, possibly loud enough for her husband to hear.

“That’s good,” Winona replies, “because I already like your son.”

If Jim was more astute, he would have realized then that these two particular women in charity with one another is a dangerous, dangerous combination. The mothers hook arms like old friends and head towards the kitchen, chatting.

Leonard appears at Jim’s elbow. “So, did you survive the inquisition?”

Jim frowns. “What?”

Spock tells McCoy, “Mother has not yet commenced a full interrogation of Jim. She will do so after dessert.”

Jim whimpers because that sounds anything but fun. “Can I go home now?” he half-whines.

Sarek sails past. “That would inconvenience my wife, Mr. Kirk. I suggest you stay for the duration of the evening.”

Leonard snickers at Jim. Jim threatens to spill wine on him. Spock deftly removes the wine glass from Jim’s hand and retreats to the dining room.

Dinner is excellent, actually, and once Kirk discovers that Amanda taught Spock how to cook, he has so much fun wheedling tales of Spock’s childhood. Leonard almost chokes on his drink when Amanda mentions that a very young Spock could climb trees like a monkey and once almost unwittingly brained his father with a coconut when Sarek demanded that the boy come down from his perch in a coconut tree.

Jim sees the teasing remarks piling up behind Leonard’s twinkling eyes. Amanda smiles and sips at her red wine.

The meal lasts over an hour, and Jim enjoys himself, though he might possibly be clenching his napkin once Amanda rises from the table to bring in dessert.

The telephone rings in another room. No one takes much notice of the occurrence until Spock returns from answering it and interrupts the conversation with a solemn “Leonard.”

McCoy stops gesturing with his fork. “Spock?”

“Dr. Piper has rung for you.”

McCoy mumbles something about never telling Christine of his whereabouts again. But he still shoves his chair back from the table and strides from the room, not quite hurrying but not unconcerned either.

Winona exchanges a glance with Jim. He doesn’t know why, but his stomach is no longer solely heavy with food.

Sarek politely draws Winona’s attention, leaving Jim to stare at the archway McCoy had disappeared through. Amanda returns with dessert, carefully placing the souffle in the middle of the table. She asks after Leonard.

Jim says, almost surprised to hear himself say the words, “Something’s happened. Mark—the doctor in charge of the medical clinic in town—called Bones.”

“Jimmy, you don’t know that,” his mother argues.

But it makes sense. He turns to her. “This is Mark we talking about, Mom. He hates calling people—not to mention that he ought to be eating with his family instead of calling Bones.”

She bites at her lip. In the next moment, Leonard appears in the archway. “Winona,” he asks in a grave voice, “can you get me to the hospital in Derby? Mayor Wesley’s had a heart attack.”

Winona gasps and immediately pales. Jim grabs her wine glass before it tips over onto the table. She stands up to search for her purse, and when Jim sees how badly her hands are shaking he pulls the truck keys away from her.

“I’ll take him, Mom.”

“Oh God, Jim, no! Bob is—I have to—take Leonard to the hospital!”

He pulls her into a tight hug. “Let me take Bones. It’s dark and—let me take him, okay?” She’s upset, despite the resolute set of her shoulders, and they both know it.

Winona nods reluctantly. Jim turns to Spock to ask if he will look after Winona but Amanda is already saying, “We’ll take of care of her, Jim.”

He hesitates before nodding and running after Bones who has grabbed his jacket from the front hall closet and waits by the door, face composed and grim. Jim nods to McCoy, and the doctor takes his nod as a signal to head out to the truck. Jim almost follows him, except that Spock halts him with a light hold on his arm.

“You will drive carefully,” says Spock, concerned. It is not a question.

This time Jim doesn’t hesitate. He gives Spock a soft, reassuring kiss. “I promise, Spock, we’ll be careful.”

Only when Spock steps back does Jim notice Sarek silohuetted at the back of the hallway, watching them, but Jim simply does not have time to care.

Next Part

Related Posts:

• Along Comes a Stranger (28/28) – from July 10, 2011
• Along Comes a Stranger (27/28) – from July 9, 2011
• Along Comes a Stranger (26/28) – from July 5, 2011
• Chapter of Doom – from July 4, 2011
• Along Comes a Stranger (25/28) – from June 30, 2011