Chapter Text
The false sunrise wallscreens of the Kamal’s apartment tried to pull Jim out of sleep, but he hesitated to reenter reality. His dreams slipped away like smoke, but he knew Naomi was there, and they were on some bizarre quest. Something to do with finding treasure? The details didn’t matter; Jim simply enjoyed the fading memory of pursuing risk and reward.
Spending the last 48 hours play-acting parenting had been an adventure… sort of. Less intrigue and mystery and more spit-up and peek-a-boo, but still an adventure. Kit had grown used to his new guardians, so Saturday evening was mostly free of meltdowns. He admitted to himself that a quiet evening with Naomi was nice, but he was also missing the Rocinante and secretly growing a little bored.
Their next job was queued up, and since it was a dark mission, they would only get the logistics once they embarked. And even then, the specifics would be sparse until they physically had their hands on the payload. He was fairly certain this was a recovery mission - a significant amount of lab supplies destined for Musuq Qallariya (a ring world in its infancy) had been stolen from a warehouse right before Tycho approached them with the mysterious charter. There was unofficial reporting that the OPA faction Descalados had big beef with the colonizing group.
If this were the Roci’s mission, it would involve not only tracking down the missing supplies and delivering them but likely apprehending the culprits. He caught Naomi scrolling through documents on Descolados, tapping into warehouse monitoring feeds, and messaging with Amos to make sure the Rocinante was topped off and had enough reaction mass to get them through the rings and back. His curiosity was making him physically itch - and he tried to suppress his impatience. I barely lasted two days being a pseudo-dad, and I already want to get out, he chastised himself - I should be enjoying this more…right?
Deep down, he considered that maybe his obsession with children wasn’t a desire to be a parent so much as a desire to live a different childhood. A childhood filled with adventure and companionship instead of responsibility and stewardship. Holden knew his parents loved him, but he also knew by his unconventional conception that he was a tool for his family to establish land ownership. If they were committed to having a big loving family, he would have had siblings… instead, he was raised with explicit expectations that he was to follow in their footsteps.
***
The morning passed quickly - filled with eating, feeding, and cleaning, preparing for Alex and Gisselle. The couple's return whipped the household into a full frenzy, including Kit, who quickly began to wail. Jim and Naomi headed for the door to avoid being caught up in the maelstrom.
Naomi paused, watching the baroque drama unfold, “Alright, Alex - lets plan on kicking off in 3 hours, ok?”
“Sounds great!” Alex replied, sporting an enthusiastic grin. Giselle, in turn, adopted a sour expression. Yikes, Alex, try to hide how eager you are to leave your wife, Naomi thought as she slid the door shut behind her.
***
They took the long way to the docks, picking up some quality-of-life supplies for the crew - foodstuffs, spices, some hard copy media, coffee, booze, games. Even considering their lazy pace, Holden was shocked to find that Alex had beat them to the Rocinante’s berth, clear across the moon from the apartment. Naomi and Amos began organizing their spoils, and Jim met Alex - spooling through the Rocinante’s logs - on the OPS deck.
“We didn’t expect you until right before launch,” Holden was careful to keep his tone free of accusation. “How was the couple’s retreat?”
Alex grimaced slightly, “I had to get out of there - the retreat was DOA.” He sighed heavily. “I… think we both know what this mission means for us. Our family.”
Jim nodded sympathetically but refrained from sharing his thoughts - that the rest of the crew unanimously thought the marriage and kid were a bad idea. Alex did not need to know about the betting pool they had.
“We are still together, but I don’t feel any urge to fight for us. Spending time without Kit made me realize that we don’t actually enjoy each other’s company; it was just empty infatuation from the drop. It's amazing how many red flags are obscured by being exhausted and busy all the time.”
“Well. Regardless, I am very happy to have my pilot back - if this job is what I think it is, I don't anticipate civil negotiations. I hope you aren't too rusty, Kamal.”
***
Shortly after liftoff, the details of their mission were unlocked, and as he suspected, the Roci’s mission was indeed about the missing supplies. Apparently, it wasn’t just stolen lab supplies - a lot of mining gear had also gone missing. The attempt to cripple the MQ system seemed to have more nefarious motivations, too.
Holden held an informal planning session, loosely establishing the crews' mission goals and reevaluating their options. After a hasty dinner, their family naturally dispersed. On this ship, there was no need for formal dismissals.
Bobby and Alex turned to The Roci’s old battle videos on the OPS deck and boisterously roasted each other over their slip-ups. Amos retired to his quarters, perhaps to finish sleeping off his shore-leave hangover. Jim and Naomi were left sitting across from each other over cooling cups of tea in the galley.
“So…we had our little babysitting adventure…” Naomi said, one eyebrow raised in invitation.
“You were right, Naomi; I don’t want kids. I mean. I want a kid. I just don’t want to have one to care for. I like the idea of kids - what they represent. I don’t want to live precariously through some kid who didn’t ask for it, but I also want to share the amazing family we’ve found on the ship.” The words tumbled out faster than he could sort through them, barely processing the implications of his own words before he said them.
Naomi pulled her hair over her eyes, looking thoughtful. “You know, when I was pregnant with Filip, I was so proud - even though becoming pregnant requires less planning than not being pregnant - Because I felt that bearing Marcos Inaros’ child was a sign to the world that we were in it for the long haul. ‘Look at us, having a baby together.’ The highest commitment
“But having a baby doesn’t prove love. The strength of a relationship isn’t defined by an ability to produce another human. Not having a kid doesn’t make us any less partnered, any less committed,” Naomi trailed off, reaching over to tilt Holden's chin until his eyes met hers. “I don’t need a baby to be confident in how much we care for each other. We are no less of a family.. And frankly Amos is stunted enough to qualify as a child anyhow.”
“I guess I see your point. Not to mention the logistics of having a baby on the ship. I know millions of parents do it every day out here… but it kinda puts a damper on everything that we do,” Holden barely suppressed a mischievous grin.
Naomi shot him a suspicious glance, “are you referring to things like running a disreputable pirate thug enterprise or things like having our own attempts to make babies interrupted?”
“Take a wild guess.”
Their half-empty drinks were the only witness to their scrambled departure, but their laughter echoed through the ship, and the Rocinante family grew in strength and love that night, if not in number.