It's winter, because for some reason they only come home in the winter. Winona wonders if there is some kind of strange significance in that. Tradition, maybe. As if it was possible, easy, even, given what it is they do. Winona doesn't understand it.

She doesn't want to sound ungrateful—no. She's lived so long alone, and… It's nice, having Jim here, even though they drive each other crazy.

Anyway, it's winter, and Jim and Spock are on Earth for leave this year, instead of Vulcan II. And Winona doesn't fucking know what to do with herself.

She's got this way of moving now, of doing things. This way of living that precludes the presence of anyone else. It's easier that way. She focuses on herself, because you don't notice the absences.

Mostly, Winona sits in the living room with her Irish coffee and her favorite engineering journal and half-watches them. They're good together, and that, she thinks, might surprise people—she's heard the word "illogical" more times in the past two days than she has in her life, all directed at Jim. But they move differently. It's like they're moving for the both of them, this weird dance, this flash of pure symmetry. It's beautiful.

"Jimmy, even if you could reach speeds that high, it's not sustainable for—"

His hands are everywhere, large, encompassing gestures. It's funny. Winona, even at her most passionate, keeps her motions tight, controlled.

"But it is! You just have to minimize the resistance—"

"Right," Winona counters, "And blow yourselves out of the sky."

"No. It really works. Take a look at—Shit, Spock, do you know where I put my PADD? I swear I—"

Spock rolls his eyes, and Winona has to bite her tongue to keep from laughing out loud. The sheer domesticity is almost nauseating.

"On the coffee table," he says, deadpan.

Okay, so Jimmy's impulse control issues definitely came from her, because Winona can't stop herself from laughing, this time. Jim gives her a sharp look, which she completely blows off, and then gets up to find his datapad.

"All right, Mom, check this out. Scotty's gonna blow your mind." He's grinning, that broad, lopsided, cocky grin that's a little bit her and a little bit his father.

She's gotten used to it by now. Honest.

But she glances at the datapad anyway, making some kind of offhand comment about his smugness. It's… It's good. Might even work, with a little bit of tweaking and the kind of math that makes Winona's heart beat a little faster. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Jim smiling again, but this time it's… More relaxed. It's sort of nice.

"So, ready to admit defeat?"

She snorts. "No way, Jimmy." She points to one of the calculations on the screen. "There's no way this would work outside a lab. There's too much—"

"I know, but when you factor in the external—"

"Still, it's—Spock." The kid looks up from the pile of vegetables he's been cutting (and that's one hell of a weird image). He raises an eyebrow, as if asking do you really want my opinion? It's sort of… Endearing. A little. Whatever.

Winona laughs. "Yeah, come take a look at this. Jimmy shown this to you yet?"

It's hilarious, the way Spock's eyes fucking light up at that. The three of them are such geeks. It's kind of fun, actually. Spock wipes his hands on a towel and carries a bowl of salad to the table, leaning forward to look at the schematic on Jim's PADD.

Jim, meanwhile, is giving Spock this look like he's Jim's everything, which… Okay, Winona hasn't quite gotten over that fear, that feeling that Jim is going to be left. That he's going to die alone. But. She won't lie. They're good with each other. Really good.

"I believe Commander Kirk—" and it doesn't matter how many times Winona tells him she's retired, he won't stop calling her that. It's like his version of "ma'am." It's funny. "—is correct. Even factoring in the decreased resistance, the warp drive could not handle such excessive speeds for any prolonged amount of time."

"Oh, fine, take her side."

"Only when she is correct, Jim," Spock shoots back, placing his hand on Jim's shoulder for a moment before getting a stack of plates out of the cupboard.

"You're evil."

"Enough to keep us all alive and the Enterprise running. Which would not be necessary if you were not so prone to rushing into dangerous situations. I believe I am content to be evil."

Jim narrows his eyes, but eats a bite of the salad Spock puts in front of him. "I already have a mother, you know."

Which makes Winona laugh because like her control issues are any better than his. "A mother who would be right there with you, phaser on."

Jim seems to think about it, chewing absently. "Good point. Okay. Fine. You do a good job keeping me alive. Feel appreciated now?" he asks Spock, who has handed Winona a plate and is currently arranging the salad on his own.

"Considering your sarcastic tone, hardly," Spock says with an infinitesimal rise in his left eyebrow.

"You know what, Spock? I think we might just end up killing each other one of these days."

"I confess it would be preferable to the many ways in which you attempt to have us killed on a far-too-regular basis."

"Mom," Jim says, fork pointing at her accusingly, "You could, you know, stick up for me or something."

Winona shrugs. "Wouldn't want to get in the middle of true love and all that. Besides, Spock agreed with me. So." She waves her own fork in circles, as if saying get it?

Jim groans, looking up with a martyred expression. "Haven't you ever heard that blood is thicker than water?"

"Sure, but math trumps everything."

Which makes Jim laugh, as she knew it would, and Spock spends the next half hour cajoling Jim into eating the rest of his salad.

And… It's kind of comforting, them being here. Their banter, the exasperated expression on Spock's face and the starry-eyed grin on Jim's. It's kind of nice, not being alone.

But.

But oh god, she thinks, George. They're us.

It's true.

The way Jim will get so wrapped up in his ship that Spock has to remind him to eat, the way they snipe and threaten without ever actually meaning it, the way their conversations are all coded and sweet without them realizing it, the way when they're together there isn't another being in the universe.

George probably would have agreed with Chris Pike on the math, too, the bastard. And Winona would have found a way to make it work anyway. Just the way Winona's sure—no matter how long or hard she protests—that Jim will find a way to make it work. He always does.