Chapter Text
T'Sama watched with bright eyes and a serious face, small hands neatly resting in her lap, as her father sang. His face was warm and sharp in the heat of the fire, a bottle dangling loosely from one fist as the other hand swept before him grandly. The stars were a suitably dramatic background to James Tiberious Kirk, as he serenaded his small daughter from across the fire.
"Hello to you. Did you ever know that you were in the middle of my mind-"
T'Sama allowed none of the thrill she felt to show on her face as her father finished off his second beer and reached for a third.
He caught onto her excitement anyways and halted to quirk a brow at her, his blue eyes glinting.
"You're looking particularly calm and innocent, Sammy-girl."
He was met with a long silence.
"Sammy."
"Yes, father?"
"Don't play cute with me, kid."
T'Sama scrunched her nose slightly in disgust. She was hoping the overt expression would get her father to laugh or become distracted, but he merely huffed and folded his arms, settling back into his chair to show he was willing to take as long as needed to get answers.
"I apologize, father."
She took a small breath and looked somewhere over Jim's left shoulder to say in a rush, "I was attempting to avoid bringing attention to a behavioral pattern of yours I have noticed. I find pleasure in the results of said behavior, and believe you would cease if your were fully cognizant of them."
"Thank you for being honest, Sammy." Jim replied smoothly. "Would you mind telling me about this mysterious 'behavioral pattern'?"
"Yes."
"Too bad. Tell me anyways."
T-Sama narrowed her eyes. Neither of them had blinked for a total of 38.6 seconds, and the heat and light of the fire were causing a diminishing ability to control the urge.
"The pattern is alcohol consumption followed by lowered inhibitions."
A pause.
"You think it's funny when I get drunk?"
"It provides a great deal of interest," She equivocated.
"You gonna keep being vague and annoying?"
"Yes, Father."
"Cool. Good to know."
They sat and watched each other a little longer. Finally, Jim sat back and rubbed his eyes with one hand.
"Is it dangerous and or irresponsible?"
"It places neither of us in any physical danger."
Jim made a sound that was half laugh, half moan, still covering his eyes with one hand.
"Jesus, kid, you're so fucking impossible. Fine! You win."
With a grunt he bent over to grab the third beer and popped the cap smoothly.
"Remember-"
"Don't tell Uncle Bones. I will remember, Father, as I always do."
"So goddamn smart." Jim muttered, narrowing his eyes at her.
She allowed herself a tiny eyeroll, knowing it would make her father grin his biggest, shiniest smile. Their bond hummed, steady and strong. She relaxed and went back to enjoying the soft sound of old terran love songs as they poured out of the small speakers they'd brought along.
In approximately thirteen minutes, and another beer can later, father would begin to sing again. And if a sad song came on he would shift his eyes from her face to the stars behind him. And he would sing to them.
T'Sama had made the connection between this behavior and her unknown parent in April, as the weather finally warmed up enough for them to start up their bi-weekly camping trips again. It was now May and she had gathered a tattered treasure trove of information.
Before April, she knew only 3 things about her Vulcan father:
He is Vulcan; evident simply from her own genetics.
He is male; also clear in her genes and the photos she had of her human father hugely pregnant and barefoot on the porch of their small home, looking sunburned and exhausted for all that he was smiling.
And lastly, her human father would feel a sharp, painful loss if she asked any questions, which she had a hard time shielding from and always left them both raw and defensive for hours after.
But now, swaying softly and mind blunted just enough from the beer to be easily blocked, Jim's songs had shown her a great deal more about the relationship her fathers might have shared.
Jim smiled sleepily at her and hummed softly.
A new song came on, one with aching violin strings. Jim closed his eyes and stood so he could face the expanse of the milkyway winking behind him.
"I can't say you hurt me when you never let me near.
And I never drew One response from you.
Cuz I've done everything I can To try and change your mind.
And I think I'm gonna love you for a long long time.
And life's full of loss
Who knows the cost?
Livin' in the memory of a love that never was.
And I think I'm gonna miss you for a long long time."
He stayed facing the stars for a moment longer, then turned back to the fire, eyes glittering slightly.
"Alright, T'Sama, time for bed."
She quietly helped to put the fire out and crawled into the small tent with her father close behind.
He held her close, breath smelling of sour hops, and she snuggled into him easily.
Her Vulcan father lived somewhere out in the wider galaxy, and he did not love Jim. But Jim professed a level of enduring romantic attachment nevertheless. She contemplated this as she fell asleep, but was no closer to understanding how anyone could not love her father. Perhaps this was an 'adult thing' that she would come to understand later. She was only 4 solar years old, after all. She would continue to watch and collect data.