(no subject)

[ifanythingelse]

He thought he knew awkward. Really, he did. But nothing has prepared him for the awkwardness of having tea with his baby daddy, his baby daddy's parents, and his long lost father. It could be be worse. His mom could be joining them on the view screen but she has no idea that David's pregnant. He'll tell her... eventually. In his own time. Think of it as passive aggressive payback for euthanizing Peanut.

Kirk is jiggling his leg, Spock is staring off into space, Amanda can barely contain her grin, and Sarek is... Vulcan.

“We should arrange a mutually agreeable date for the bonding ceremony,” Sarek says.

“When would be a good time for you?” Amanda takes out a fucking stylus to “save the date.”

“Never,” he blurts out. “I'm not marrying Spock. No. He's...” he searches for the right word, “...old. Older than my dad. Dad, back me up.”

“David, listen to what they have to say. It might turn out to be a good idea.”

“No! It's a terrible idea. It's the worst idea ever. And I'm the guy who used protomatter in Genesis so I'm well acquainted with terrible ideas.”

“I too,” Spock says, “find the idea to be disagreeable.”

“See? It's agreed. No wedding. Ever.”

Amanda frowns as she realizes she won't be picking out bridesmaids dresses with Spock at Macy's any time soon and Sarek... continues to be Vulcan, as he says, “My wife and I must discuss this new development privately.” And David expects them to go into the kitchen or somewhere to talk but they just press their fingers together and stare at each other. For like five minutes. When they break apart, Amanda has a slightly superior smirk on her face. “My wife and I have decided it is best for Spock and David alone to determine their future together concerning their unborn child-with the provision that Spock has the option of receiving at least partial physical custody.”

“Of course, I'm not gonna keep his own kid away from him. What kind of a selfish, cold... I'm gonna stop there.”

“That's probably a good idea,” Kirk says.

“Yeah.”

--

He understands the reasoning behind him staying at Spock's folks' house instead of the ship. A Klingon Bird of Prey is no place for a pregnant... person. (Seriously, this whole intersex thing is throwing him off his game. He's always been confident in his masculinity but that was before he had a vagina. And McCoy says he might grow boobs because of all the pregnancy hormones. Boobs! When he was thirteen, he thought it would be great to have his own pair so he could get to second base with himself. Now, not so much. Not looking forward to that.) It's not like he's particularly helpful with the repairs. He doesn't speak Klingon and Scotty won't let him near anything. In fact, he's pretty sure Scotty's told the entire crew to follow him around when he's on board so he won't replace the entire ship with protomatter. (A guy fucks up once... He knows Scotty's a miracle worker but have any of his inventions brought a man back to life and got another man pregnant with a viable Vulcan/Human hybrid? No. So, Scotty can shut the fuck up and stop staring at Uhura's ass.) He appreciates his hosts' attempts at whatever passes as hospitality on Vulcan but they're being really creepy.

Take his room for example. When Spock shows him to his lodgings, David gets a little choked up (fucking hormones!) at the mezuza nailed to the doorframe which he believes was placed there by Amanda to make him feel welcome. No dice. The door opens and the room is filled with religious items: crosses, mandalas, Buddhas, Ganeshas, Romulan altars, Andorian candles, and something from every religion in the galaxy. “Is this where you meditate?”

“No. This is Sybok's room.”

“Who's Sybok?”

“My brother.”

“I didn't know you have a brother.”

“We do not speak of him. He left us many years ago.”

“Oh. I'm sorry.”

He's in bed later that night, trying his damnedest to fall asleep but it's a little hard to drift off when you're sleeping in the preserved room of your baby daddy's dead, religious fanatic brother and when said room features a pretty graphic painting of Jesus Christ being crucified by some decidedly un-PC looking Jews. Every time he opens his eyes, Jesus is staring back at him with those sad, all-knowing orbs. When he finally falls asleep, he's plagued by nightmares of a zombie with long hair and sad eyes chasing him with a giant tricorder, yelling, “Why don't you ever visit? Are you trying to kill your mother?”

He wakes up, throws up, and heads into the kitchen for something sickeningly sweet or dangerously spicy or both if he can swing it. The family's already at the table and Sarek says, “I trust you slept well,” in such a manner that David feels guilty for ever sleeping a wink in his life. The patriarch walks out without a word.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“In Vulcan culture, the house guest awakens before dawn and prepares breakfast for the household,” Spock says, staring into a bowl of what looks like grits.

“I'm sorry. I didn't know.”

“It's alright. I don't know why Sarek expected you to make breakfast; you're family now.”

“Mother.”

“What? He is the... bearer of your child which makes him a member of the family. And as such, he needs to learn more about your culture. It wouldn't hurt you to learn about his, too. Maybe today you two could take a walk and share a little about yourselves.”

Spock, apparently, can't say no to his mother either so they walk around ShiKahr and talk. It's not a total loss of a day because they get to veto a few traditions from the baby's upbringing.

Such as kahs-wan.

“...without food, water, or weapons.”

“For ten days?”

“Yes.”

“All alone in the desert?”

“Yes.”

“Ve-fucking-to.”

And bris milah.

“...the foreskin is removed with a knife or a pair of scissors. It's usually done by the father but sometimes an uncle or someone else who knows how does it.”

“Are you, to use your own expression, shitting me?”

“I'm guessing that's a veto.”

--

As much fun as getting a tour of ShiKahr by a guy who really doesn't remember ShiKahr is, David is glad that Spock is at lessons during his every waking hour. Sarek and Amanda are off running the quadrant so that leaves David by himself in the daytime. Solitude is a blessed thing. He spends his days reading. Baby books mostly. He's trying to convince himself that he can do this, he can raise a little person and not fuck everything up. By the end of his first month on Vulcan, he knows every disease that can fell a Vulcan-Human hybrid, has a gift registry set up with everything a baby could ever need, is halfway done with knitting his first booty, and is finally showing.

The latter is a problem. As freaked as he was that the baby was so teeny-tiny despite everyone telling him that Vulcan babies are half the size of human babies, he's even more creeped out by all the attention his pregnant belly gets. The rubbernecking on the streets is justified; Vulcans are a naturally inquisitive species and it's not everyday you see a pregnant man. But if he wakes up to another relative of Spock's groping his tummy, melding with his baby, there will be words. He gets that the family wants to meet the baby but could they choose a time of day when David is less likely to have an erection?

It's getting to Spock, too. The Vulcan, while a naturally skilled telepath, doesn't have enough training just yet to risk mind melding with the baby. David sees him standing in his doorway, watching as he rubs cocoa butter on his belly.

“Hey, Spock. Come in. Take a load off.”

Spock takes two steps forward into the room.

“I read something fascinating today. About the fetal response to auditory stimuli. I thought perhaps we could do an experiment.”

“What kind of experiment?”

“You would speak to-near my stomach and I would observe any increase of motion by the fetus.”

“That appears to be a valid method for obtaining results.”

“I thought so. Come here.”

Spock walks to the bed and kneels on the floor. David scoots closer to Spock.

“What should I say?”

“Anything. Whatever you wa-think is best.”

Spock leans in and talks into David's navel like it's a microphone. “Hello... Has he moved?”

“No. I think you're going to have to say a little bit more than that.”

“Hello. I am... your father. My name is Spock. We are currently in the city of ShiKahr, in the Shi'al province on the planet Vulcan. We are in my parent's home where the temperature is twenty-six degrees centigrade. The starda-”

“Oh!”

“What happened?”

“He kicked. Hard. Keep talking.”

“Nobility lies in action not in name. There is no other wisdom and no other hope for us but that we grow wise. Offer them peace, then you will have peace.”

He's quoting Surak. “You can speak in Vulcan, if you-We should test the fetus's response to Vulcan.”

“Nar-tor pulaya s'au k'ka'es - k'el'rular tun-bosh. Ma etek natyan teretuhr lau etek shetau weh-lo'uk do tum t'on. Nam-tor wak vah yut s'vesht na'fa'wak heh pla'rak...” is the last thing David hears before he drifts off to sleep.

--

By the sixth month, David is pretty sure he could perform his own c-section, has filled dearly departed Sybok's room with baby blankets, and eats as much as a baby elephant.

It's become somewhat of a ritual for Spock to talk to David's belly right before bedtime. David usually falls asleep after about five minutes but not that night. Spock wants to try something different.

“If you are willing to forgo experimentation tonight, I would-I have now completed my training in the mind arts and am capable of safely performing a mind meld. I ask your permission to meld with the baby.”

“Yeah. Of course. But could you meld with me at the same time? When your father melded with the baby, he melded with your mother so she could-It's just... everyone and their mother has melded with my baby except for me.”

Spock nods and places his left hand on David's belly and his right on the psi points on David's face. “My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts...”

Content. Safe. Near. Close. Swaddled. Tranquil. Comforted. Peace. Serene. Embraced.

Spock cuts the connection and David's back in the room, staring at a red-faced Dr. McCoy standing in his doorway. The doctor sneers and walks away, Spock trailing at his heels. Kirk passes them in the hallway as he walks into David's room. “What was that about?”

“I don't have a clue. What are you guys doing here?”

“The crew thought it was time to visit you and Spock so we're all staying here for a few days.”

“Really? You left your ship voluntarily?”

“Scotty may have shorted out all life support functions on the ship.”

“How?”

“I don't know. Frankly, I don't know how he does any of the crazy things he does.” Kirk sits down at the edge of David's bed. “How are you?”

“I'm fine. It's a little weird staying here but Amanda's nice and Sarek's... Vulcan.”

“How's the baby?”

“Good. Spock was just melding with me and the baby when McCoy came in.”

Kirk makes a face somewhere between “so that's why” and “oh shit.”

“What?”

“Nothing. I should go to bed. I've got to get up early tomorrow. Apparently, I'm making breakfast.”

--

He tosses. He-well, he's too big to turn so he mostly just tosses. Dead of night in ShiKahr and he can't fall asleep without Spock reciting Vulcan proverbs to his belly. The baby usually exhausts himself kicking while Spock talks but tonight he's wide awake, playing hacky sack with David's kidneys. Clearly, mind melds are not physically demanding enough for the little bugger. “Come on, buddy. Give it a rest. Daddy needs to sleep.” No use.

He decides that a walk in the courtyard might calm him down. He's down the steps when he hears a noise coming from the garden. A noise that sounds suspiciously similar to “green-blooded bastard” and where there's a “green-blooded bastard” there's an argument between McCoy and Spock. He creeps over not with a goal to mediate their conflict but to get his belly close enough to Spock's voice so that the baby will mellow out.

The garden's enclosed by a wooden fence that keeps out neighborhood sehlats. David sidles-as much as someone a month away from giving birth can sidle-up to the fence, pressing his stomach against the wood.

“I know you. Better than anyone.”

“And I, you. You are acting irrationally.”

“Irrationally, huh? I'll show you irrational.”

There's some scuffling that David interprets to be McCoy's attempt at engaging in combat and Spock's rebukes. There's a few groans and heavy breathing that sound like strangulation but David's not one to interfere.

“Everything... we... had... for... that... curly... haired... cunt.”

David's ears burn. He peaks through a knothole in the hole, hoping to see Spock do McCoy's ass like dishes for disrespecting his baby mama but what he sees... It's more like the other way around.

Dr. McCoy and Mr. Spock, his dad's best friends, engaging in anal sex amongst the azaleas.

He does what any adult would do in such a situation: run to the bathroom and dry heave. Someone's there, rubbing circles on his back and then leading him by his elbow back to his bedroom.

“It's a little late for morning sickness,” Uhura says.

“It was so terrible. It was like a mountain goat attacking a black bear... or a giraffe and a really scrappy gorilla.”

“Honey, you're not making any sense. Do you need me to get Dr. McCoy?”

“No! Nev-can't ever see him again 'cause in my mind it'll just be him and Spock...”

“Sweetie, you need to tell me what's wrong.”

“I accidentally saw Spock and McCoy making that terrible, ferocious beast with two backs in Amanda's garden.”

“That does explain the vomiting.”

“It-They were naked. And I could hear their skin smacking-like they were playing wall ball. When I give birth, they can remove my dick too because I am never having sex ever again. I am permanently turned off.”

“It's not that bad.”

“Yes. It is. It's like watching your parents do it. But worse because this time it's live and not on a chip hidden under your mom's bed that you thought was a recording of your tenth birthday party. Why-why aren't you more shocked by this? Was it commonplace on your five year mission to walk in on... that?”

“Heavens, no. As far as I know, this was the first time. But it's been a long time coming.”

“But they can't stand each other! They're always bickering.”

Uhura rolls her eyes. “When you were young, didn't you ever pull on the pigtails of the little girl you had a crush on?”

“No. I went to a Montessori school. That sort of thing wasn't allowed.”

“They've been flirting for years and it looked like they were finally going cave in and admit they had feelings for one another but then Spock died...”

For the first time after seeing McCoy bend Spock over a potted plant, things make sense. The placement of Spock's katra in McCoy's body. McCoy's failure to consider Spock as a possible cause of David's delicate condition. The resulting drinking binge when McCoy realized how very possible it was. Spock's objection to marrying his baby mama. McCoy's gross overreaction to seeing the mind meld earlier that evening. Kirk's face after hearing about the meld. Things add up to a disturbing solution: “I'm the other woman.”

“I'm afraid so.”

“I don't even think of Spock like that! He's like...” a father? a brother? a buddy? “...a friendly librarian to me. I might invite him to join my book club but I'm not going to seduce him. Even if, in some warped parallel universe, I was attracted to him, I would never act on those feelings. We have to raise a child together. A romance would get in the way.”

“Maybe you should tell McCoy that.”

“I don't think he wants to talk to me very much right now. He wasn't exactly singing my praises in the garden.”

“Dr. McCoy only insults the people he truly cares about.”

“He called me a see-you-next-Tuesday.”

“Really? Well, if he won't talk to you voluntarily, we'll create a situation where he has to talk to you.”

“Do you think we can?”

“Honey, I'm the communications officer. We've got this in the bag.”

--

Breakfast is... interesting in terms of cuisine and conversation. David's sure Plomeek broth is not supposed to be that salty. But he's also sure a salt lick isn't supposed to be that salty. The sad part is Kirk looks pretty proud of his efforts and no one has the heart to tell him how inedible the food is.

David and Uhura are the first to sit down, having been up all night working out how to deal with McCoy. Spock's folks are next but Sarek, the bastard, ducks out as soon as he sees Kirk ladling out portions, mumbling something about diplomatic responsibilities. Amanda stays, saying “Mmmm,” every time time she takes a bite despite the tears forming in her eyes. Saavik takes a seat, her hair behaving in the dry air. She tries a giant spoonful, gulping it down with a mild grimace. Chekov comes in, talking animatedly to a very subdued Sulu. The Russian's smiling face quickly falls when he takes a bite of his broth. Sulu just pushes his spoon around the bowl.

“Where the devil are Spock and Bones?” Kirk says, sitting down at the table.

David shares a knowing look with Uhura.

“I don't know. Why would I know? I don't know anything. Can we stop talking about Spock and McCoy for five minutes?” Sulu snaps.

“Fine. It was a rhetorical question, by the way.”

“Don't mind him, admiral. He is wery tired. Jet-lag.”

“That doesn't make any sense. We've been in the same time-zone for two months.”

“It is wery, wery delayed jet-lag.”

“How is that even--”

“You know,” Uhura cuts in, “I heard jet-lag was discovered by a... mime in... the Ukraine.”

“No, no. Jet-lag vas discowered by an acrobat in Gorky. It is wery interestingk story. He vas on a plane--”

“There they are,” Kirk says as a very rumpled looking McCoy and Spock enter the kitchen. Spock sits down next to his mother while McCoy takes a seat across from him.

“Spock, what happened to your neck?” Amanda asks, examining the green bruises on her son.

“I was bitten.”

“By what?” Kirk asks, exasperatedly.

“A bug,” McCoy growls, buttering his toast a little too roughly.

Kirk clearly gets the picture as his eyes widen and his mouth smirks. “Must have been a pretty big bug.”

“Huge,” the doctor says, his knife stabbing through his toast.

“So, Spock, what do you think of the Plomeek broth? I know it's one of your favorites.”

Spock takes an experimental taste of the soup, lets the flavors marinate in his mouth, and says, in an impossibly even tone, “Jim, this is worst fucking thing I have ever eaten.”

Uhura collapses into giggles while soup shoots out of David's nose, burning like salt water. “Spock!” Amanda gasps. Sulu tries to hide his laughing face with his napkin as Chekov sinks under the table, guffawing. Even Saavik and Bones look amused.

“Have I unintentionally said something humorous?”

“No,” Kirk says. “They're just not used to hearing you use profanity.”

“I was unaware I was being profane. Forgive me. So I may not make the same mistake again, could you tell me which word was profane?”

“The f-word.”

“Fucking?”

There's a distinct thwack as Chekov's head hits the underside of the table. Uhura excuses herself from the table in order to compose herself.

“Yes.”

“I did not know that. I merely thought it was used to emphasize the importance of a noun or adjective.”

“Where did you even hear that word?” Amanda asks.

Spock, being pushed into a corner by his mother, does what any child would: blame one of his friends. “David uses it quite frequently.”

“David!” Kirk gasps. “You can't curse in front of Spock! He's like a toddler, he'll repeat everything you say!”

“It's not just me, okay? Last night, McCoy used the c-word in front of him.”

“Which c-word?”

“The bad one.”

“Bones! In what situation could you have possibly been in that would necessitate the use of the c-word?”

The doctors reclines in his chair, smirks, and raises an eyebrow.

“You're a pervert, you know that? And why would David--”

“Lady Amanda,” Saavik says, rising from her chair, “we should take a walk. Now.” And she leads Spock's mom out of the house.

“Why would David...” he turns to his son and whispers, “Were you doing some weird sex thing with them?

“Yes. Obviously, I decided that, at six months pregnant, it would be a good idea to have a threesome with your best friends. No. Eww. Are you kidding me? No. I saw them going at it in the garden. And, believe me, I wish I hadn't because it was quite possibly the most disgusting thing I've ever seen.”

There's a moment of awkward silence that is broken by Sulu saying, “I... I just wanted to look at the flowers.”

The comment hangs in the air until Uhura comes back in. “What happened?”

From under the table Chekov says, “Ze admiral just found out zat Meester Spock and Dr. McCoy had sex in ze garden last night.”

At Uhura's lack of reaction, Kirk asks, “Why am always I the last one to know about everything?”

“If it makes you feel any better,” David remarks, “Maltz probably doesn't know this time.”

“Not quite,” Scotty's voice says from the communicator in Uhura's pocket. “I just told him.”

Kirk throws his hands in the air and storms out. Spock and Bones follow.

Chekov crawls out from under the table, running a hand over his hair. “Am still hungry.”

“We could go for pancakes,” David offers. “There's an IHOP in the tourist district.”

“I think we deserve pancakes after,” Uhura points to her bowl of soup, “that.”

--

“I don't how you two can stand this heat,” Sulu says, finally out of shock. “I'm dying.”

“Ve're a desert people,” Chekov explains.

“Also, I have a personal air conditioner. Just one of the fringe benefits of bearing the heir of the House of Surak.”

“This is where I get off,” Uhura says. “I'm bringing Scotty some pancakes.”

“Is zat vhat ze kids are callingk it zese days?”

Uhura walks off down the path to the ship, her frequent finger in the air. Sulu and Chekov make kissy noises into their fists until she's out of sight.

--

When they get back to the house, Spock, McCoy, and Kirk have retreated to their respective corners, making everyone within two parsecs suffer through their tension.

Walking down the hall to McCoy's room, David's more scared than he's ever been in his life. The plan he and Uhura came up with looked a lot better at four in the morning. “Dr. McCoy?” he says, knocking on the man's door.

“Yes,” the doctor growls from within.

David suppresses a shiver. “I need medical advice.”

The door flies open. “What's wrong?”

“Could we talk about this in there? It's kind of private.” He mouths the words “yeast infection.”

Bones rolls his eyes. “Come on in.”

David locks the door, pulling the phaser out of his back pocket.

“Any discharge?” Bones says, turning around. “Holy hell! Are you out of your mind?”

“I'm six months pregnant with a stranger's baby! Of course, I'm out of my mind! Sit on the bed.”

“Kid, put the--”

“Sit or the Jack Daniel's gets it.”

“Fine. Damn hormo--”

“Finish that and I'll phaser your balls off. You are going to listen to me. I do not want to have sex with Spock. Ever. In a million years. I may have my fair share of daddy issues but-no. Never again. And let me remind you that the one-well, four and a half times-I had sex with Spock, it wasn't really even him. He was about forty years younger and his katra wasn't there because it was conveniently nestled inside one Leonard H. McCoy, MD. And, furthermore, Spock does not want to have sex with me. I'm Jim's son. I'm off limits. We're not going to run off together and make more pointy-eared babies. This is a one time deal. And I'm not going to let you make me feel guilty for deciding to keep my child or wanting my son to have a good relationship with both of his parents. I don't know what you thought you walked in on last night but that was just Spock finally getting to meet his kid-something that he had to watch all of his relatives do before he could which just fucking killed him. You'd know that if you hadn't run off to the desert with Kirk like a fucking pussy. I know that Amanda and Sarek invited you to stay here as my doctor but you were too fucking scared of-what? Jesus Christ, you're my doctor. I needed you. Spock needed you! He loves you. His parents were dead set on us getting married but he said no-we both said no-but he said no because he thought he had the slightest chance of being with you. You know how much he wants Sarek's approval. This sort of thing doesn't happen everyday. Men don't come back from the dead. Yeah, he put his dick in me. He put his fucking soul in you! God, are stupid? Do you have some organic brain syndrome? I am so sick of all the adults around me acting like fucking teenagers. 'Oh, no one told me about such-and-such!' 'The guy I liked had sex with someone so he wouldn't die!' Boo hoo! I'm twenty-four, male, and pregnant! Man the fuck up!”

Bones has the good sense to look ashamed.

“You're not going back to the ship, by the way. You're staying until I've got this little brat out of me. Do you know Vulcans give birth in caves? In caves! I'm not doing that. Hell, no. I'm giving birth in a hospital with a ton of painkillers-and you as my doctor. Got it? Good. Now, I'm gonna go downstairs, replicate a bowl of ice cream, and cry a little bit.”

--

Kirk's opening up every cabinet in the kitchen, muttering to himself. “Hey, David, have you seen my-”

“Here.” He gives his father back his phaser. “You shouldn't leave that out where children can get to it.”

“You didn't... kill anyone, did you?”

“No. I kill planets, not people.”

Kirk chuckles. “That's a good one. It's good you can laugh about that.”

“When you lose all credibility in your given field, laughter is one of the few things you can do.”

“Is it that bad?”

“They're comparing me to Einstein.”

“And that's... bad?”

“Einstein was a flash in the pan who helped create the atomic bomb.”

“Oh.”

“I'm not exactly drowning in job offers. The best chance I've got to salvage my reputation is teaching a bioethics class at some university. The scientific community loves a mea culpa.”

“I'm sure Starfleet will always be willing to have you.”

“Yeah. That's never going to happen.”

--

The crew leaves that evening. Apparently, all Scotty needed was a short-stack of pancakes and Uhura's presence to restore life support functions.

“You comin', Bones?” Kirk asks, as the crew says their goodbyes to their hosts.

“No. You think I'm gonna let your grandson be born in some cave?”

Sarek bristles but Amanda brightly says, “I'll set up your room.”

“Mother, that will not be necessary.”

Sarek raises an eyebrow. McCoy outstretches the middle and index fingers of his right hand which are met by Spock's. Amanda blushes while Chekov and Sulu once again make kissy noises into their fists. Spock shoots them the glare to end all glares, making them take refuge behind Saavik.

Kirk steps forward and looks like he's about to hug David but can't figure out how to do it around his son's protruding belly. He settles for a manly clasp on the shoulder. “Comm me when it's time.”

“Yeah. Sure thing.”

“Four to beam up.”

--

There is something very wrong about this situation. David is a strapping, young man in his prime. He should be the one getting it on while the elderly gay couple next door is trying to sleep-not the other way around! While forcing McCoy at phaser point to get over his emotional bullshit and play house with Spock, David didn't consider the fact that their respective beds are placed along their shared wall.

Squeak. Squeak. Groan. Groan. “Ponfo mirann!” “Jesus Christ!”

David gets an idea. The next day, while Spock is at a lesson and McCoy is trying to track down something bearing even a passing resemblance to what he considers to be “real food,” David places a certain painting over Spock's bed.

That night, Spock and McCoy don't have sex, or they do and are discrete enough so that Jesus won't notice.

--

Things agreed upon:

Baby will be raised on Earth with David. School holidays will be spent on Vulcan with Sarek and Amanda.

Baby will attend a Montessori school, starting at age three. If this method of education is found to be unsuitable, other options will be considered.

Baby will learn the religious traditions of both parents.

Spock will spend as much time as Starfleet allows with Baby.

Spock will educate Baby in the ways of Vulcan.

Baby's nursery will be painted green as it is a calming color that does not perpetuate gender stereotypes.

Baby will not be circumcised.

Baby will not be bonded until old enough to understand and consent.

Pon farr and all matters sexual will be explained to Baby fully when deemed appropriate.

David will cover the expense of Baby's bar mitzvah, if Baby chooses to have one.

Baby will be vegetarian.

Baby will be taught that all life has intrinsic value.

Baby will be breast fed by David until a replica can be created to fit Baby's nutritional needs.

Baby will be named...

“Do you realize there you've left me with, like, seven options? This is unreasonable.”

“You agreed to my terms.”

“You-you tricked me!”

“I am Vulcan; I do not--”

“This one's a winner! Swietopelk. Oh, how about Sayf-ul-Mulk? That really rolls off the tongue.”

“Several of the available names are of Islamic origin.”

“I'm Jewish, not Muslim.”

“Both religions are Abrahamic. What is the difference?”

“Two prophets and a millennium of conflict.”

“Fascinating.”

“I think I've got it narrowed down. Sherlock, Sevak, or Sedrick. Sherlock will get him teased. Sevak sounds Vulcan.”

“What is wrong with a Vulcan-sounding name?”

“It defeats the purpose. I'm going with Sedrick.”

“Sedrick.”

“Sounds distinguished, you know?”

Baby will be named Sedrick.

--

The final days of his pregnancy are spent being stared at like he's an unstable compound that may combust any second. He flinches-Spock's at his side and McCoy's pulled out a tricorder from God knows where.

“I'm fine. It's just another Braxton Hicks--”

“Nope. You're in labor.”

“No. Wait. No! I am not adequately prepared--”

“Spock! Shut up and help me get him to the hovercar!”

--

He's staring up at the whiter than white ceiling, waiting for everything below the privacy curtain to go numb. Then Kirk's there, holding his hand. “How are you doing?”

“Fine. Just waiting to be gutted like a fish.”

“Where's Spock?”

“In the next room. McCoy says he should regain consciousness in about twenty minutes.”

“He had to be sedated?”

“Yeah. He was kind of freaking out.”

“He'll regret not being here to see this.”

“Not really. Vulcan fathers aren't present during childbirth. ...And now we know why.”

“You're all numbed up,” Bones says. “Ya ready to go, kid?”

“Yeah.” And that's when he starts to freak out. He can't feel his skin being split open but he can definitely hear it. It's unnerving. “Dad...?” He doesn't know what he wants from Kirk or what Kirk can give him. “I... uh...”

“Say, did I ever tell you how I stopped Hitler from taking over the world?”

“No. How-how'd'ya do that?”

“Well, there was this woman I dated...”

For someone who's spent a grand total of six hours alone with his son, Kirk sure knows the right thing to calm him down. It's an incredibly implausible tale that sounds like it was made up on the spot but David buys it because it has three things all of his father's stories have: Spock wearing a hat, Bones questioning the humanity and sanity of his companions, and Kirk's girlfriend biting it. He's at the part about the Guardian of Forever offering them a chance to trip through time when there's the first howl of an infant.

“Ho-shit,” David says in surprise. Those are the first words his son hears. Bones gently places the goopy infant in David's arms. “Hi, Sedrick. He's so little. Look at his his ears.” He has the irrational urge to nibble on the pointed auricle. And David holds his newborn son for what seems to be an eternity and an instant in one. Time means nothing as the rest of the universe fades away. All of the awkwardness, all of the bullshit is worth it for this tiny package, who is nothing less than a fucking miracle. David knows he can do this now. There's not a doubt in his mind that he can devote himself fully to the care of this beautiful creature.

It's over too fast. Sedrick has to be cleaned, weighed, and examined. And David's got to get a few extra organs removed.

--

When he drifts back to consciousness, Spock's sitting by his bed, holding their sleeping child, looking at Sedrick like he's the most fascinating thing in the galaxy. “Hey,” David says, hoarsely.

Spock looks up at him and there's something like a grin on his face. “David.”

“Spock.”

“You... have performed most admirably.”

“Thanks. How is he?”

“Weight: two-point-four kilograms. Height: eighteen-point-three centimeters. APGAR: seven.”

“Human or Vulcan?”

“Vulcan. His human APGAR test resulted in a score of ten.”

“He's fine? No problems?”

“His health is sound.”

“Good. Can I hold him?”

“Of course.”

Sedrick shifts in his arms, curling his tiny fists in the air. “He's like a cat.” This earns a curious glare from Spock. “But... sentient and not a pet. So,” he coughs, causing a spark of pain in his abdomen. “Ow, shi... Kahr.” Smooth, Marcus. Real smooth. “Have you thought of who you'd want as his godparents?”

“No. The naming of godparents is a Terran tradition. I assumed you would choose them alone.”

“Oh. Yeah. That makes sense. I just don't know who to pick.”

“I believe is traditional to choose close friends.”

“I don't have a lot of those. The ones I did have were recently murdered by a genocidal maniac hellbent on revenge so...”

“I could assist you in the selection process.”

“That would be good. The only person I can really think of is Dr. McCoy but... I mean... he's not so much godfather material as he is... step... father... Am I off base, here? You did the hand thing earlier and that seems to be indicative of...” This is the thing about Vulcans-they let you keep going even when you so dearly want them to interrupt. “Are you... married or engaged to Dr. McCoy?”

Spock leans back and makes his “this is a very personal question face” which, in David's humble opinion, is bullshit because here they are with their baby which didn't get carried in by a stork. “The doctor and I will forgo bonding until he stands trial.”

“McCoy isn't going to get locked up. I mean, he was clearly out of his mind... or in your mind when... He has a pretty solid defense. And, if we tell them how the Enterprise saved us, they couldn't possibly charge them, right?” Spock gives a “you are so innocent” eyebrow raises, which, again bullshit because of tiny Sedrick. “It'll work out. Just... have faith, okay? So, McCoy is out. What about Saavik?”

“As my ward, Saavik is technically Sedrick's sister.”

“Oh. Um.” That makes David's latest masturbatory fantasies wildly inappropriate.

“And I suspect she would rather play the role of step-mother.”

“Really?” His voice goes up about two octaves. “I mean, how about that? Learn something new everyday. The universe is just full of new things-new knowledge and things to be learned-” Good god, man, stop me! “Like different flora and fauna. Tentacles. Some plants have tentacles. Other things that have tentacles are octopi, squid-how about Uhura?”

“No. I do not believe Commander Uhura has tentacles.”

“No. I mean, as godmother? She's kind of the only woman we know besides our mothers and Saavik.”

“She is an acceptable godmother.”

“Good. That's settled. Now who--”

There's a knock at the door and then an impossibly large group of people jams itself into David's hospital room. Amanda, Sarek, Kirk, Saavik, McCoy, Uhura, Scotty, Chekov, Sulu, and, fuck, even Maltz.

“Bones said you could have visitors,” Kirk explains.

“And how,” David mumbles.

“May I hold him?” Amanda asks.

“Oh. Yeah. Of course.”

David tries to not have a heart attack as Sedrick is gently passed around the room. When the baby gets to Uhura, David says, “Spock and I were wondering if you'd act as Sedrick's godmother.”

“I'd be honored. Who's the godfather?”

All eyes turn to David. “Well, uh...” He looks to Spock for help but the Vulcan is making googly eyes at McCoy. “Well. I was thinking...” Scotty. No! It might look like he's trying to force Uhura and Scotty together. And what if they get together and it doesn't work out? “It occurred to me to...” Chekov. No! Sulu would be jealous. And vice versa. “I--” This is why he went to a Montessori school; tests scare the shit out of him. “The godfather's name is Mmmmm--” Shit! Who does he know whose first name starts with an m? “Mmmmm... altz.”

No one in the room-least of all David-knows how to react to the announcement with the exception of Maltz who bows his head and says, “I accept this honor most humbly and pledge to protect Sedrick for as long as we both shall live.”

“Maltz, go outside for minute,” Kirk orders. When the new godfather has complied, Kirk asks, “Are insane? He's a Klingon.”

“Aye,” Scotty says. “But he's our Klingon.”

“It is an unorthodox choice yet one of merit,” Spock says. “Maltz will expose Sedrick to a culture he would not learn about in the Federation and provide him with counsel from a differing perspective than his other kin.”

“We did kill all of his shipmates. We kinda owe it to him,” David says.

“And maybe now he'll stop tryin' tae hang himself.”

“See? It's a win-win situation.”

--

So, he's lactating. How fucked is that? He can create a nutritious meal with his boobs. That's just, you know, weird. He's grateful-really, he is-that he can nourish his child and provide him with his immunities. It's a good thing. And he supposes he should be glad that the hormones made him less than an A-cup because he's seen what he would like with tits by looking at Kirk and it's not pretty. Amanda said it should help him lose the baby weight and the endorphin rush is pretty sweet but...

Saavik's staying at the house now and on Spock's nights to watch Sedrick, she and David sit in his room talking and necking and David would really like to see if McCoy did a good job on that surgery... But he doesn't want to have breasts when Saavik sees him naked for the first time. And, fuck, what if he squirts milk on her when comes? Sex is awkward enough without the extra equipment.

And, of course, Saavik knows about all this because of the whole touch telepath thing. (How amazing does that have to be in the sack?) She looks like she's going to walk out but instead she unzips his pants and David's sure she's the one.

He's had sex with two half-Vulcans and he has to say that one hummer from Vulcan-Romulan hybrid beats four and half rounds underneath a Vulcan-Human hybrid. It could be the age thing. He's certain he wasn't very good in bed when he was seventeen either although he never had Spock's premature ejaculation problem-but, hey, if Spock hadn't went off early on David's thighs, the pon farr super sperm wouldn't have swam upstream to David's new lady parts, and the House of Surak wouldn't have an heir. So, it all worked out for the best.

It could very well be Saavik's Romulan genes. He'd always guessed that Romulans were wild in the sack but, damn, she's flailing all over the place and moaning like a cat in heat. He thinks he hears McCoy outside the door, yelling at them to be quiet, but Saavik's thighs could be marketed as noise canceling devices.

He's not surprised to see Jesus hanging over his bed when he goes to sleep the following evening.

--

“-and they all lived happily ever after.”

“That is hardly an appropriate story for an infant.”

“Just be thankful that I told him the American version. The way my nana told it, all the villagers are decapitated in the end. That would be too scary for Sedrick. Yes, it would. It would be too scary, wouldn't it?”

“I fail to understand why all humans use a higher voice when addressing infants.”

“Because they're so cute with their tiny ears and their tiny, little toes. Yes, Sedrick's too cute to talk to in a normal voice. I could eat you up. I could eat you up for dinner. Nom nom nom.”

“You have ceased making sense.”

“Oh, pointy eared daddy is stubborn daddy.”

--

“We're caught between a rock and a hard place,” McCoy says, earning confused looks from everyone except David. “We're in a bad situation where every solution yields negative consequences.”

“Yeah,” David nods. “We go public with Sedrick's birth, we risk Federation interference and a lifetime of scientific inquiry. We don't, we have to lie for the rest of our lives and the crew's more likely to be thrown in jail.”

“If we explain to the jury that this was a mission of honor--”

“Your testimony will do a lot, Maltz,” McCoy cuts in, “but a Klingon's sense of honor will do little to sway a Federation jury.”

“The numbers are still against us,” Saavik starts. “The lives of David, Spock, Sedrick, and myself against the death of the Klingon crew and the destruction of the Enterprise.”

“We need to make it very clear what Kruge was there to do and what he did to get there,” David says. “He destroyed an Oberth-class vessel, killing all of its occupants except for two who he later took as hostages. All to get his hands on what he deemed to be a doomsday device. Which it wasn't because, look, it made this adorable baby. Look at this kid. Cutest Jew you've ever seen. I rest my case.”

“I think we need more than the Cute Jew defense to win this thing. We need to get in there before they have a chance to slander--”

“As soon as they detect the Bird of War, they'll start proceedings if they haven't already.”

“The clan vessel is used often enough that it would not raise any suspicions,” Saavik says.

“That's perfect!” David exclaims. “We fly in early in T'Pau's ride with a Vulcan ambassador, a Starfleet officer, a Klingon defector, a guy brought back from the grave, and a miracle baby. That's a lotta heft behind our cause. We get there a few days early, lay out our defense, bring in some expert testimony--”

Spock, who has remained silent all evening, says, “I will not be able to go with you.”

“What? Why not?” It's then that he notices Spock and McCoy's intwined hands under the glass table. Shit. “Guys, uh, could you give us some privacy for a minute?” The room clears. McCoy doesn't look like he knows whether he should go. “You might as well stay. It's not like there's much of a difference anymore, right?”

“No. I'll go.” The doctor leaves despite Spock's pleading eyes.

“What the hell were you thinking?” David hisses, careful not to wake Sedrick in his lap. “You could die! If he goes to jail and you go into pon farr...”

“I was not thinking clearly.”

“Obviously. When?”

“Last night.”

“You had Sedrick last night!”

“Bonding is not sexual in nature. Although, intimate contact does strengthen the bond.”

“Couldn't you have waited?”

“No. It had become painful to be near Leonard without the bond. He is one half of me. To be parted from him psychically...” Spock's hands shake.

“How long until you can be away from him over night?”

“I estimate two weeks.”

“God. We can do this. You'll just have to go with him in the Bird of War. That'll work. It'll be symbolic. You standing with your crew. It's gonna be fine.”

--

“We're all gonna die!”

“David, you are overreacting.”

“We're being attacked by the fucking ocean!”

“Technically, we are being attacked by an alien probe of unknown origin.”

“That's using the ocean to attack us! God, it's freezing in here. Come here.” He wraps an arm around Saavik's trembling shoulders and pulls Sedrick closer to his chest. “It's gonna be fine, Sed. Everything's gonna--” The bay window of the court room shatters, sending a spray of glass shards through the room. Maltz flings himself over David and Sedrick, protecting them from the shrapnel. “Thanks.”

“There is no need to thank me. I am simply fulfilling my duty as Sedrick's godfather.”

“See?” David turns to Saavik. “I knew that was a good idea.”

--

In the end, his three days of intense questioning by the Federation council is unnecessary. His dad and his friends redeem themselves by saving the world yet again. David rushes to Spock and his dad after the verdict is read.

“Hey,” he says, handing Sedrick off to Spock who cradles him close.

Kirk pulls David into a bear hug. “I thought I'd never see you again.” Over his shoulder, David sees a very determined blonde approach.

“Shit.”

“What?”

“Look and see.”

Kirk turns, only to get slapped in the face. “I leave him with you for four months and he gets knocked up by your best friend? I can't believe you!”

“Hello to you, too, Carol.”

“This is exactly why I didn't tell you about him. You think that you and your Starfleet--”

“Dr. Marcus,” Spock says, holding out Sedrick. “This is the most aesthetically pleasing Hebrew ever viewed.”

“Oh, look at his ears!” she exclaims.

--

It's two in the morning and there's about a million things David has to do before classes start tomorrow but Gracie has gone missing. Sedrick wails in his crib. “It's okay, bud. I'll find her.” Under the couch? No. Where the fuck is it? Sedrick never lets the thing out of his sight but somehow it got lost today “Aha!” David exclaims when he spot the small stuffed whale under Sedrick's crib. “There you go, bud.” He places the plushie next to his son who calms immediately. “Yeah, you miss your father, huh? He'll be back soon, okay? Go to sleep. Night, night.” He presses a kiss on Sedrick's forehead and then heads back to the computer to revise his syllabus for the millionth time.

David Marcus never thought he would end up teaching bioethics to a bunch of burn outs at Berkeley. He never thought he would get pregnant either. But he's learned that sometimes the things you don't plan are the sweetest of all.