Throughout his many years living on Vulcan, Jim had never had much of a chance to get to know Ambassador Sarek. The impression he had of him was of someone who was quietly and unobtrusively kind. He was also a very busy man, who was constantly under stress due to the scrutiny thrust upon him for the humans and half-human child under his care. For the most part, Jim attempted to adopt Mrs. Grayson's stoic facade whenever they crossed paths. He never tried to engage Sarek in inane conversation, and generally kept to himself on the rare occasions they were together without Mrs. Grayson or Spock to act as a buffer. The last thing Jim wanted to do was offend him, after all.

Jim had been lying down on a rumpled comforter, flipping idly through the pages of a catalog of Starfleet Academy feeder schools, when Spock's father knocked politely on his door. Spock had gone through another growth spurt recently that made him look all lean and gangly, like stretched out toffee, but also meant that he and his father knocked exactly the same way at exactly the same height. Taking that into account, it was no wonder the sight of Sarek standing stiffly on the threshold of his doorway after Jim called out, "Come on in, Spock," was something of a shock.

They eyed each other warily for a moment, neither quite knowing how to gauge the other, until Sarek stepped inside, his traditional robes brushing the molding as he entered. The door closed softly behind him. "I have been informed by a reliable source," Jim immediately guessed he'd been speaking with Amanda, "that sixteen years is a milestone for your people."

That was… technically true. Winona had gone dancing for her sixteenth birthday. His father had bought his first car at sixteen. It'd been the very same car he'd taken his mother out in on their first date. Those were all Earth traditions, though. Jim hadn't even been on Earth for roughly half his life. He didn't have any family worth mentioning there, as far as he knew. Johnny had managed to get off-planet on a scholarship, and he hadn't heard anything from or about Sam since he ran away from Frank's. Once or twice he'd put in an inquiry for George "Samuel" Kirk without telling anyone, but the results only ever referred to their dad.

Jim hoped that, wherever he was, Sam had made it out of Iowa, at least.

Once he realized he'd been silent for too long, he confirmed Sarek's information with a nod. Ever so slightly, the tension drained from the ambassador's shoulders. "That is good to hear." Stepping out of the room, he gestured for Jim to follow. "I have arranged for a gift, but we must make haste to the embassy."

Grabbing a sweater, Jim slid off the bed, slipped on his sneakers, and hurried after him.

Sarek took full advantage of his high clearance level to fast track their entrance into the private sectors of the embassy, where the halls were dotted with windows that peered into sparsely decorated rooms with little more than a table, a pair of chairs, and sometimes a glass of water. Men and women in suits passed them without acknowledgment, each of them walking briskly with stern, focused expressions. Idly, Jim wondered if their tasks were really so important or if looking like they were far too busy to stop and chat was part of their daily tasks.

They came to a stop in front of a room with a single person in it - a young man with sandy, unkempt blond hair, and piercing blue eyes. Jim's mouth went dry.

"Sam," he breathed. Since the rooms were soundproof and the windows were reflective on the inside, his long-lost older brother didn't react.

Sarek nodded, "I shall allow you two to reacquaint yourselves," then strode further down the hall, leaving Jim to sort through his conflicting feelings alone. On the one hand, he was grateful that the ambassador had not only made a point of remembering his birthday, but even went so far as to find his brother for him - it was beyond anything Jim had expected. It was just that... What could he say to someone he hadn't spoken to in almost a decade?

They were basically strangers now.

Jim wasn't the same boy who'd watched Sam walk down the road and out of his life. Maybe it was about time he proved it.

Chastising himself for being a coward, he grabbed the door handle, noting the way his older brother's eyes narrowed at the sound of the metal rattling. Being trapped in a locked room must have been a nightmare for him, but when Jim finally stepped inside, the suspicion fled his features, and he beamed, "Jim!"

For a moment, it was like none of the intervening years existed. Sam threw his arms around him, squeezing Jim like he could still pick him up and spin him around the way he used to, and gave a light laugh of relief, "I was starting to think those guys were pulling my leg when they said I could see you again."

There were a million questions on Jim's tongue.

Did Sam ever look for him? Did he know about Tarsus?

He pressed his mouth closed, burying those questions deep down where they belonged. The last thing he wanted was to drive his brother away again. Instead, he took a seat at the table, marveling in the miracle of Sam's presence. Somehow, Sarek had been able to pull this off, and Jim didn't think he'd ever be able to repay him.

The conversation stuck to safe topics at first. Of course, Sam wanted to know about Jim's life on Vulcan, so he talked about school, how he'd managed to score high enough on his entry exams to earn him a free ride through basically any institution he wanted, including some schools that were guaranteed to get him into Starfleet someday, "and I won't have to mention our dad to do it." Seeing a shadow pass over Sam's face, he quickly tried to shift gears by asking about Johnny, but it was too late. The mood had already soured.

"You're thinking of joining Starfleet?" Jim winced at the barely restrained anger in his tone, the storm clouds marring his expression. "Do you think you can get out of his shadow or something? With his name and his looks, there's no way you can escape it any more than I can."

An uncomfortable silence stretched after that. Jim decided to break it, a grin spreading across his face. "I'll take that as a challenge, Sam." To his surprise, Sam chuckled. It wasn't a happy sound, but not as bitter as it could have been, either.

Shaking his head, Jim's brother muttered, "Sam, huh?" When he lifted his head, there was a noticeable sheen in his eyes. "You're the only one who calls me that, Jim."

Jim swallowed, searching his mind frantically for a diversion. "Have you met anyone?" He blurted.

Surprised by the outburst, Sam took a moment to respond, but when he did, his expression was soft. "Yeah. She's a great girl, Jim." A flush stained his tan cheeks pink. "I'm thinking of asking her to marry me soon."

Happiness welled within Jim, filling him up. He reached over to clap his brother on the shoulder. "Well, then, congratulations. When's the wedding?"

Sam sputtered. "She hasn't said yes yet-"

"And she won't." Flashing a confident smirk, Jim leaned back into his seat, his arms folded over his chest. There wasn't a hint of doubt, nothing to suggest he was anything other than completely certain, as though he'd already seen it happen. As though the world wouldn't make sense if it didn't.

With a huff of good-natured exasperation, Sam threaded his fingers through his hair, making it spike like displaced bird's feathers. "You haven't changed at all. And here I was worried I'd barely recognize you." To that, Jim smiled and said nothing. As though noticing something was off, Sam laid a hand on his wrist, "Were they good to you?"

Though he deflected concern with a casual shrug, Jim replied honestly, "Better than I deserved."

Still, Sam didn't look satisfied. He gave Jim's wrist a light squeeze, "Never, Jim," the raw sincerity threading his voice was almost too much to take. "Never."