Chapter Text
Chris should have expected some bullshit like this. He should have expected it the moment Jimmy decided Gaila was his. He should have expected it the moment she started to talk to him. He should have expected it. He should have expected it .
Gaila gets onto the bridge— he doesn’t know how, but she does, because Kirk has taken it upon himself to show her all the dark, secret passages inside the walls that even Winona doesn’t know. She gets onto the bridge during a particularly dull point of Alpha shift, right about the time that Pike’s thinking about lunch. Winona’s loitering around his command chair, not so much talking as insulting.
“And anyway, Number One has you by the balls, so it’s her I should be asking—” Winona stops. “Gaila, when did you get here?”
“Hi, Mommy.” Gaila loops around her and pulls herself into Pike’s lap. Chris, the fool, lets her.
“Hey, Gaila,” he greets, one arm instinctively wrapping around her waist to keep her in place. “You aren’t supposed to be here, you know.”
“I know,” she agrees. “But I realized something very important, and I had to tell you right away.”
“Oh? What is it?”
“I think I know,” Winona murmurs, almost too quiet for Pike to hear.
Gaila wraps her arms around Chris’ neck.
“You’re my Daddy,” she says into his shoulder.
Chris goes cold. Winona snickers.
“What?” he asks.
Gaila sits up.
“You’re my Daddy,” she repeats. “Jimmy explained to me what a Father was, and a Father sounds a lot like you. So, you’re my Daddy.”
One day, someone will maroon Jimmy Kirk— and it may be today, it may be fifteen years from now— but when that day comes, Chris hopes to be the one to personally hand that Captain a medal.
*.*
It becomes a thing among the crew because Chris can’t find it in him to correct her. In the wake of Gaila’s ‘revelation’, Chris stopped being her Captain and instead became her Daddy.
It gets to the point that he actually answers to it. He figures he deserves it, for all the times that he’s snickered at Winona for her apparent adoption of the little green girl, and anyway, he could do worse than Gaila as an oops daughter.
For example: see Jim Kirk.
No, Chris doesn’t mind being a Dad. What he does mind is the crew’s response to his new status.
To be fair, the joke’s always floated around the alpha crew. Space Dad Pike is nothing new. But after Gaila’s display— Gaila’s public, perfectly prepared display— the joke spreads to the other shifts. Soon, Pike can’t walk through the mess hall without hearing someone greeting him as— Dad.
No. This must stop.
Gaila doesn’t notice anything strange. His apparent acceptance has only made her more likely to be found a step or two behind him at any point in the day that isn’t eaten up by her writing lessons with Jimmy or her allotted Winona time in engineering.
He’s being invited to movie night regularly, now, which is equal parts cute and disturbing. Kirk movie night is a sacred rite, after all, and Chris isn’t ready to be a Kirk. Ever.
It is heartwarming, though, when an away mission goes wrong and he wakes up in Medbay with a green ball curled up in the little space between his uninjured side and the railing. The feeling is immediately curdled by Fonseca’s voice from across the room.
“Space Dad’ll get mad if his Chief of Security can’t be bothered to listen to his doctor and rest , goddammit!”
Jimmy probably thought he was helping when he helped Gaila figure out how to inform Chris of his apparent Dad-ness, but Chris knows that more of Jimmy was thinking of the hell this was going to unleash on his poor, unsuspecting, blindsided Captain.
Chris sighs quietly to himself, carding a hand through Gaila’s wild red hair absently.
It’ll die down soon. Probably.
...Hopefully.
*.*
It doesn’t die down so much as Chris learns to ignore it. Everybody’s got their identifier, and apparently, his is Space Dad.
Better than Hardass, he supposes.
It’s their bi-monthly officer’s poker when Number One brings it up, casual as can be,
“Gaila is doing well.”
“She is,” Pike agrees, and she is. She even talks to the bridge crew, now, shyly asking about the controls without actually trying to play with them— the exact opposite of Jimmy Kirk.
“Well enough to start thinking of placing her somewhere permanently.”
Pike goes cold. He isn’t sure why— this day has been coming for months, and he’s been very aware of that fact.
“... What do you have in mind?” he asks. Number One tilts her head thoughtfully, pushing her glass within Winona’s reach to fill.
“She’s old enough to be entered into a Starfleet gifted program,” she says. “Or she can be placed in one of the boarding schools circling Cerberus— they have excellent programs for students in the foster system.”
“She’s not in the foster system.”
“Yet. It is inevitable that she will be placed with a family upon her return to a Federation planet.” Number hums. “Likely they will want her returned to Orion—”
“Not happening. She’ll just end up in the same shitstorm we found her in.”
“... In which case she could be placed on Earth. However, it will be difficult to place her with a family, as she is not Terran and will require a family that can cater to her needs as an interplanetary immigrant.”
“A Starfleet family,” Winona supplies helpfully from behind her glass.
Number One shakes her head.
“A Starfleet officer has neither the money nor the time spent on Earth to be considered suitable in the raising of a child, particularly one with a past such as Gaila’s,” she says. “Perhaps if she were to be adopted, but as a foster child…”
Pike blinks.
“Well, that’s easy,” he says. “Winona, she already calls you her Mom. You can just adopt her.”
“Are you saying that because I’m a woman or are you saying that because of my stellar parenting skills that have served my children so well?” Winona snorts and shakes her head. “No. I’ve got no one to leave her with, and she’s not Jimmy; she won’t do well on a ship.”
“She’s done okay so far.”
“She’s a social kid, Chris. Keeping her on a starship with only Jimmy for company? With her doing so well? That’s a recipe for teen angst I don’t want to be around for.”
And… good point.
Except…
“What if I take her?” Chris asks. Both women look surprised.
“It’d be the same issue, Chris— unless you’re going to go planetside for a little green girl.”
Chris shakes his head.
“No, I know, but— Krisy could take her.”
“Your sister?”
“Well, yeah— people do it all the time. I mean, what would have happened to Jimmy and Sam if you hadn’t taken them?”
Winona shrugs. “George’s parents, probably. Until they couldn’t handle it anymore or died in the attempt.”
“If I adopt Gaila, she can go live with Krisy,” Chris says. “People do that all the time. Krisy’s oldest two just moved out, too— she has the space.”
“Doesn’t she have like, six kids?”
“And like I said, Johnny and Rose moved out. She has an open room, it’s perfect!”
Neither woman says anything for a long moment.
“... And this is why you are the Captain, Christopher,” Number One says, slight praise creeping into her usual monotone. “Sometimes I forget you are so ingenuitive.”
Chris sits back, pleased with himself.
“I’ll start the paperwork in the morning,” he says. “But keep it to yourself? I want to see the look on Krisy’s face when I tell her I have a kid.”
*.*
It’s four in the morning when Jimmy’s comm beeps. Bleary-eyed, he prods at the screen until the message pops up.
Hook, line, and sinker. -Number One
Jimmy grins and sets his comm aside.
He loves it when a plan comes together.
*.*
“Don’t cry, Gaila— Earth has to be cool. My whole species comes from there.”
Gaila sniffs.
“But, I’m gonna miss you,” she says earnestly. “You’re my best friend. You’re my brother .”
“What, you think that’s going to change because of a couple of lightyears between us? As if. That doesn’t stop me and Spock, why would it stop me and you?” Jimmy hugs her tightly. “It’s gonna be fine, Gaila. I’ve met Krisy and her wife. They’re awesome, and their kids are pretty cool, too. You’ll love it with them. There’s gonna be so many things to do! I’m almost jealous.”
“No engineering lessons with Mommy anymore. No more writing practice with you, or movie nights.” Gaila’s lip quivers. “How am I gonna be a Chief Engineer without Mommy’s lessons?”
“Hey. You’re middle name’s Kirk, Gaila, I saw the paperwork. You’ll be just fine. We Kirks always get what we want.” Almost . “I’ll meet you in the Academy, okay? If nothing else, I’ll find you there.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.” Jimmy pulls back. “Comm me when you get settled in, okay? I want regular updates.”
“That’s what Daddy said.”
“Of course he said that, he’s your Dad. And I’m your brother, and Mommy’s your Mom. We’re all expecting updates, and pictures, and report cards—”
“Jimmy, I think she gets it.”
Winona scoops Gaila up in her arms and gives her a squeeze.
“Raise hell, kid,” she says simply. “And don’t take no for an answer.”
Gaila sticks out her chin and nods, trying to mimic Winona’s best steely expression.
“There’s a girl. Hey, Chris.”
“I’m here to escort my daughter, if I’m allowed,” Chris says from the doorway. He smiles at the girl. “You all packed, Gaila?”
Gaila hesitates, then nods.
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Good. Come on, we’ll loop the ship one more time before you go, okay? Just so you don’t forget anything important.”
Gaila smiles slightly, then turns to press a wet kiss to Jimmy’s cheek.
“Bye, Jimmy.”
“See ya around, Gaila.”
And then, she takes Chris’ hand.
An hour later, she’s left the ship.
*.*
“What is wrong, James?”
Jimmy huffs a sigh, tilting the screen on its side so he can lay down and still see Spock’s face without getting a headache.
“I just forgot what it was like, not having Gaila here,” he says. “Mommy says I’m moping.”
“You appear melancholy.”
“Yeah.” Jimmy runs a hand through his hair. “Mommy thinks I need some time away. She’s sending me to spend some time with my cousins on some newly colonized planet.”
“Oh?” Spock arches an eyebrow. “Which planet?”