Fic: Cravings
Fandom: Star Trek: Reboot
Rating: PG
Warnings: mpreg
Pairings: Kirk/Spock/McCoy
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.
Summary: A ritual on an away mission has altered things for McCoy, Kirk, and Spock. Too bad McCoy can’t bring himself to tell Kirk and Spock what it is.
Cravings
McCoy sat in his office twisting the results of his blood test in his hands. The results aren’t really a surprise; most human males could get pregnant thanks to the lingering effects of the Eugenics Wars. He had even suspected as much because of his symptoms. He was such a stereotypical case that if it wasn’t so serious he would have laughed. He’s only being getting sick in the mornings for the past week. He’s been craving stupid stuff like pancakes smothered in sour cream, and nachos dipped in chocolate, that don’t taste half bad actually. He has half a mind to market the idea; it might help him pay for the kid. McCoy sighed. He was a doctor, he knew he didn’t have to continue the pregnancy. The technology existed to end it painlessly. He would have to confide in Nurse Chapel to monitor the procedure, but she didn’t have to take that knowledge to anyone-especially Jim or Spock. The baby won’t change anything he knows that; it was a forced one night stand on an alien world, nothing more.
There was no one to blame for this, except maybe Starfleet brass with their go first ask questions later policy, to get border relations strong after the whole Nero fiasco. Uhura wasn’t able to get a proper translation until they were already on the planet, and thus mistaken for a couple. That culture had taken the concept of free love to levels McCoy hadn’t thought possible. To maintain the negotiations Spock had to claim him and Jim as his own mates and then…prove it. McCoy had never seen him so fierce and territorial it was…it was fucking hot to be honest. They agreed afterward that it would not interfere with their work, and it hadn’t, if anything efficiency ratings had increased since that away mission. And if they spent all their meal times together now, and sat close enough so that their legs touched no one mentioned it.
McCoy ran one hand along his stomach. He could keep life like that; this didn’t have to change anything. It was logical as Spock would say. A starship was no place for a baby, he obviously hadn’t planned for this at all, and he would do it alone if he kept it. Still, it was part Vulcan, maybe the colony would help him. He couldn’t just leave the kid there though. He couldn’t leave his kid to be raised by someone else, not again. Heck maybe he could even see Joanna more often since he was going to be dirt-side for the next ten years at least. McCoy laughed softly to himself. The decision wasn’t very logical, but it was his and he knew it. He wanted the kid.
***
Jim Kirk wanted to eat dirt.
He leaned back in his desk chair where a report sat half-finished on his computer. He had been like this for three days now and he didn’t know why. He hasn’t been de-aged by some transporter malfunction, he hasn’t been in contact with any weird alien plants or artefacts, so what the hell was wrong with him?
“Computer, search phrase ‘craving dirt’.”
“There are 5, 160 000 results containing that phrase.”
“Specify for humans.”
“4, 160 000 results.”
Jim rolled his eyes, well that was maddeningly unhelpful.
“Describe as a medical symptom for humans.”
“Cravings for non-food items such as dirt in the human species has been thoroughly studied and is likely caused by a nutrient deficiency, often iron, it is often listed as a common symptom of-“
“Cancel.”
A nutrient deficiency, all right then he’ll just start eating healthier meals that always makes Bones happy anyways. Just then Jim’s stomach growled. He smiled and patted it gently, apparently it was time for dinner.
Jim went to the mess hall, smiling at the various crewmembers as he passed, and keyed in a code into the food processor. The machine whirled and pinged before the slot opened and he picked up a tray of crushed ice water and a brightly coloured salad. He didn’t want anything too heavy. He had been feeling kind of nauseous lately, along with the stupid dirt craving.
“What the hell is that, Jim?” McCoy asked, as Jim took up a seat at their usual table.
“A salad, Bones, what does it look like?” Jim asked, picking up his fork and stabbing some of the shredded carrot.
“It looks like something you never voluntarily eat without drowning it in dressing,” McCoy answered, reaching for his glass.
Jim glared at him and Spock looked up from his vegetable stir-fry to examine Jim’s tray. It was true that Jim was never one to eat such things, but Spock noticed that McCoy had also changed his eating habits for this meal. He would normally drink coffee, but instead had a vegetable drink raised to his lips. Well healthy eating should always be encouraged, so rather than watching them get into argument over perfectly valid food choices Spock tried to change the subject.
“Jim, could I interest you in a game of chess this evening?”
“Sure, Spock.”
“You are welcome to join us as always, Doctor.”
McCoy nodded. “Sounds great,” he said. He wanted to be with them as much as he could now.
***
Life went on much like that. Jim’s craving for dirt diminished with his new diet, so he gave himself a clean bill of health, and continued to dodge the quarterly physicals. McCoy meanwhile kept a regular schedule of checkups and dutifully watched over the growing life inside him.
After one such round with the machines in his sickbay he kept an image of what he had been viewing that day. In his quarters clutching the sonogram picture tightly he, blaming the hormones, cried because he couldn’t share that with the ones he had come to love so much.
***
The three of them were on another away mission, though they had dealt with this race before so there were no surprises this time. The natives insisted on taking them through several ceremonies though so they stayed planet side for the night.
The three of them stumbled into their room, exhausted from the day’s diplomacy. Sharing a room together had been declared the logical decision by the natives so they could discuss the day’s events easily among themselves. In fact it was necessary McCoy thought as he put a hand over his stomach that was starting to round out and push against the stupidly tight dress uniform.
McCoy took off the uniform and draped it over the back of the couch, un-tucking his shirt, and sighing. If he was going to do it now was the best time. He had already drawn up his letter of resignation and he wanted to talk to Jim before he sent it. They had been through death and life together, and Jim deserved to know that he wasn’t leaving the Enterprise because of anything he or Spock had done.
Before he could confront Jim though McCoy made a detour to bathroom; the kid was wreaking havoc on his bladder lately. It must be the pointed ears that were poking it all the time.
He came out of the bathroom to find Spock checking his tricorder while Jim was already sprawled on the bed, his uniform and shirt flung on a bedpost. McCoy frowned, it wasn’t like Jim not to want to go out and see the city night life.
“Jim, you all right?” he asked, coming over and touching his shoulder.
“Yeah,” Jim answered, slowly opening his eyes, “I’m just tired.”
“Really?” McCoy asked, while trying to fight back a yawn.
Jim smiled. “Seems like you are too, Bones.”
“It’s nothing.”
It’s everything.
The bed sank down as Spock sat down next to Jim.
“Are you certain you are well, Jim?”
Jim nodded and cuddled closer to his pillow. Spock stayed closed to him. Then they turned their attention to McCoy, looking at him with inquiring eyes, letting him know that he was welcome to join them.
He couldn’t do it, not when he was so close to leaving. It would just make it hurt more than it already did.
McCoy didn’t miss the looks of disappointment as he shook his head and wandered back out to the living room. It was better this way he reminded himself. They could have each other and he could continue his life…somewhere. Jim talked about an old Vulcan he kept in contact with on New Vulcan, maybe he needed a roommate. Turing on the screen on the wall he sat down on the couch to watch something mindless. McCoy yawned again and let his eye fluttered closed. He’ll just rest here for a moment.
***
The next thing McCoy knew he was being shaken awake by Jim.
“Come on, Bones, were going to be late!”
“Late to what? It’s the middle of the night!”
Jim didn’t answer, but went running back into the bedroom to finish getting ready.
McCoy took that time to look out the window and see the hazy light of morning filtering through the curtains. Oh, crap he’d slept the entire night away on the couch! Quickly he grabbed his uniform and started buttoning it up; and he could swear that it felt even smaller than it did yesterday.
“Good thing you were already dressed,” Jim said, coming back out the bedroom trying to button up his uniform and comb his hair at the same time.
“Where the hell’s Spock? The hobgoblin is his own personal alarm clock. He should have gotten us up!”
“He’s up on the ship. He said he’d meet us at the rendezvous spot.”
Jim grabbed McCoy’s arm and they left the room.
It was a mad dash to the beam down point, but they made just as Spock came down in a simmer of white.
“Jim, Leonard.”
They nodded at him while trying to catch their breath. A few minutes later the delegate and his aide arrived to escort them to breakfast, except McCoy didn’t want to think about food. He hadn’t made his morning offering to the porcelain god, and running all the way from the local guest accommodations certainly hadn’t helped. He clenched his jaw shut and tried to think about something else. His body was having none of it though, and all he could think about was being sick on the aide’s highly polished shoes.
Their boots clicked along the marble stone as they were taken out to a large balcony overlooking the gardens. A table had been set out and McCoy sunk into the first available chair, closing his eyes and breathing deeply for a moment. He missed the look of concern on Spock’s face at his actions, and the fact that Jim looked a little green as well.
When McCoy opened his eyes the first course was being laid out for them. It was a small bowl with a stack of yellow cakes, with three small dark blue balls of some kind of jelly on the top of them. Any other time McCoy probably would have had three of them, but not right now.
The leader of the planet began explaining the history of her people, it was a tradition on the planet to tell of the journey of the civilisation that had tamed the land and made it bring forth such bounty to them. In grand display she brought down her fork and broke the edge of the food item, and the runny insides of the cake spilled onto the plate.
That was it.
“Excuse me,” McCoy mumbled, and bolted out of the chair. He raced across the balcony and leaned over the railing as his body heaved for all it was worth.
McCoy flushed in embarrassment, but managed to glance to the side to see, to his shock, that Jim was now beside him and tossing his cookies just as bad as he was.
“Something you ate, Jim?” he asked when he was finished, wiping his mouth and sliding down to sit of the floor.
Jim laughed and winced as the action irritated his throat. “You have the nerve to ask that, Bones? You were over here before I was.”
Yeah, but McCoy knew what his problem was, he didn’t know what had set Jim off.
“I know I just…” he trailed off afraid he might need to be sick again. Thankfully the kid had decided he had embarrassed his old man enough for one day and his stomach settled down.
Jim and McCoy jumped slightly as warm hands pressed against their backs, and Spock knelt down next to them.
“Captain, Doctor.”
“It’s okay, Spock. I’m okay. Bones is right it’s probably just something I ate.”
“Yeah, this is nothing. It’ll go away on its own.”
Spock and Jim stared at McCoy.
“This has happened before?” Spock asked.
McCoy swore to himself, knowing he had just blown it.
“I know what it is, and I’m not discussing it here,” he said firmly.
“Very well,” Spock said, and helped both men back to their feet.
***
With many profuse apologies breakfast was salvaged. The rest of the meetings continued without incident, if one didn’t count Spock constantly glancing over at Jim and McCoy; or McCoy mentally kicking himself every half an hour for opening his big mouth.
When it was all over the three of them went back to their room. McCoy sat on the bed between Jim and Spock, a blanket drawn up around his knees.
“How long has this been going on?” Jim asked.
“A couple of weeks,” McCoy muttered.
“What?!”
“Is this why you wish to leave the Enterprise?” Spock inquired.
McCoy stilled, how could he know about that?
Jim’s eyes widened. “Leaving?! Bones, what is he talking about?”
“It isn’t official, Jim.”
Spock was not going to let him off that easy.
“But you intend it, Leonard. I received a copy of your proposed resignation.”
Stupid auto-forward function, McCoy thought.
Jim reached out a hand, cupping McCoy’s face so he could look him in the eye.
“Bones?”
“I haven’t sent it anywhere, Jim, at least I didn’t mean to. I wanted to talk to you first.”
Jim sat back stiffly, and his body language told McCoy that this had better be good.
“So talk,” he said.
McCoy sighed; he really didn’t want to do this, not like this. “It’s…personal and it’s my…issue you two aren’t obligated to do anything.”
Spock put one hand on McCoy’s shoulder.
“Our union came about in far less than ideal circumstances, Leonard, but do not conclude that that means I don’t care deeply about both of you.”
“Bones, if you’re sick I’ll put you on temporary leave. You can study to find a cure!”
“Jim, relax I’m not sick,” he took a deep breath, “I’m…I’m pregnant.”
A tense silence filled the room. McCoy looked down at the blanket covering his legs, twisting it with one hand.
“One of you please say something.”
“It is mine?” Spock blurted out.
McCoy rolled his eyes. “No Spock, its Christine’s! She and I have been meeting in the supply room after work; of course it’s yours!”
Silence fell over them once more and so McCoy spoke again.
“So, so you understand why I have to leave, right? Why you two can be together and I’ll go planetside somewhere, a starship is no place for a kid.”
“You planned to leave and never inform us of the child?” Spock asked.
“No! I mean I don’t-didn’t mean it like that. I just wanted, I mean I’m just…and you two were…”
McCoy stopped speaking as Jim hugged him.
“It’s not him and me, Bones, it’s us, all three of us. Why didn’t you tell us?”
“I didn’t think that you’d want to…to be involved,” he mumbled into Jim’s shoulder. “I wasn’t very successful at making a relationship work with a kid the last time. I just thought…”
McCoy trailed off again as Spock wrapped his arms around McCoy from behind.
“You thought incorrectly, Leonard.”
“I guess I did.”
“Bones, how did you know?”
“I’m a doctor, and even if I wasn’t the signs were obvious; the morning sickness of course, and the cravings. You think I’ve been eating all those vegetable drinks and chocolate covered pasta because I like it?”
“No, I just thought the food processor was broken and you just didn’t want to yell at Scotty when he had fifty other things to do.”
Jim had gotten some candy flavoured omelette the other morning and had eaten it just to be polite, and had actually really liked it. And he had been sick just today, but could that mean…?
“Bones, does it mean anything to crave dirt?”
McCoy stared at Jim for a long moment.
“It’s often seen as a mineral or nutrient deficiency, it’s often pointed to as a common sign of pregnancy, why?”
“Well I just I mean I’ve noticed that I….you don’t think I’m…am I pregnant too?”
McCoy frowned, it was possible. Quickly he grabbed his medical kit and scanned Jim. When he was finished he couldn’t hold back a smile at the results.
“Congratulations, Jim.”
Jim just sat on the bed stiffly in shock. He was pregnant.
“Shit! I didn’t know I didn’t-I haven’t hurt it have I!?”
“You will if you keep stressing out like that.”
“Oh, god.”
McCoy put his hand on Jim’s arm.
“Jim, you’ve been eating better, and the last few missions have been boring, you’ve said so yourself. The baby should be just fine.”
He leaned over Jim and scanned him more thoroughly.
“The kid’s a little small, but perfectly healthy,” he announced.
“Wow.” Jim’s eyes were wide as he started rubbing his stomach and looking at McCoy’s “We’re going to have to talk about this some more aren’t we?” he asked.
Spock glanced between them.
“Indeed we are.”
***
Jim and McCoy sat in chairs at the Vulcan embassy. They were several PADDS, a melting bowl of pickles and ice cream, and a jug of fruit water between them.
McCoy was using one of the PADDs awkwardly as a fan and glaring at Jim.
“Jim, remind me again why we have to be here.”
“It’s important that we fill out all the proper forms to establish a rotating schedule between the ship and the colony,” Jim quoted for the fifteenth time, while wondering if he would ever be able to see his feet again.
Jim brightened though when Spock came in the room a moment later, with a familiar Vulcan at his side.
“Selek!”
“Jim, it is wonderful to see you again.”
The older Vulcan came up to them, looking them over.
“I thought you might continue to rebuild our race, Spock. Still I did not expect you to be quite so…productive.”
The tips of Spock’s ears turned green.
“The circumstances were…unusual.”
When those three were involved Selek didn’t doubt it.
The End
Rating: PG
Warnings: mpreg
Pairings: Kirk/Spock/McCoy
Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.
Summary: A ritual on an away mission has altered things for McCoy, Kirk, and Spock. Too bad McCoy can’t bring himself to tell Kirk and Spock what it is.
Cravings
McCoy sat in his office twisting the results of his blood test in his hands. The results aren’t really a surprise; most human males could get pregnant thanks to the lingering effects of the Eugenics Wars. He had even suspected as much because of his symptoms. He was such a stereotypical case that if it wasn’t so serious he would have laughed. He’s only being getting sick in the mornings for the past week. He’s been craving stupid stuff like pancakes smothered in sour cream, and nachos dipped in chocolate, that don’t taste half bad actually. He has half a mind to market the idea; it might help him pay for the kid. McCoy sighed. He was a doctor, he knew he didn’t have to continue the pregnancy. The technology existed to end it painlessly. He would have to confide in Nurse Chapel to monitor the procedure, but she didn’t have to take that knowledge to anyone-especially Jim or Spock. The baby won’t change anything he knows that; it was a forced one night stand on an alien world, nothing more.
There was no one to blame for this, except maybe Starfleet brass with their go first ask questions later policy, to get border relations strong after the whole Nero fiasco. Uhura wasn’t able to get a proper translation until they were already on the planet, and thus mistaken for a couple. That culture had taken the concept of free love to levels McCoy hadn’t thought possible. To maintain the negotiations Spock had to claim him and Jim as his own mates and then…prove it. McCoy had never seen him so fierce and territorial it was…it was fucking hot to be honest. They agreed afterward that it would not interfere with their work, and it hadn’t, if anything efficiency ratings had increased since that away mission. And if they spent all their meal times together now, and sat close enough so that their legs touched no one mentioned it.
McCoy ran one hand along his stomach. He could keep life like that; this didn’t have to change anything. It was logical as Spock would say. A starship was no place for a baby, he obviously hadn’t planned for this at all, and he would do it alone if he kept it. Still, it was part Vulcan, maybe the colony would help him. He couldn’t just leave the kid there though. He couldn’t leave his kid to be raised by someone else, not again. Heck maybe he could even see Joanna more often since he was going to be dirt-side for the next ten years at least. McCoy laughed softly to himself. The decision wasn’t very logical, but it was his and he knew it. He wanted the kid.
***
Jim Kirk wanted to eat dirt.
He leaned back in his desk chair where a report sat half-finished on his computer. He had been like this for three days now and he didn’t know why. He hasn’t been de-aged by some transporter malfunction, he hasn’t been in contact with any weird alien plants or artefacts, so what the hell was wrong with him?
“Computer, search phrase ‘craving dirt’.”
“There are 5, 160 000 results containing that phrase.”
“Specify for humans.”
“4, 160 000 results.”
Jim rolled his eyes, well that was maddeningly unhelpful.
“Describe as a medical symptom for humans.”
“Cravings for non-food items such as dirt in the human species has been thoroughly studied and is likely caused by a nutrient deficiency, often iron, it is often listed as a common symptom of-“
“Cancel.”
A nutrient deficiency, all right then he’ll just start eating healthier meals that always makes Bones happy anyways. Just then Jim’s stomach growled. He smiled and patted it gently, apparently it was time for dinner.
Jim went to the mess hall, smiling at the various crewmembers as he passed, and keyed in a code into the food processor. The machine whirled and pinged before the slot opened and he picked up a tray of crushed ice water and a brightly coloured salad. He didn’t want anything too heavy. He had been feeling kind of nauseous lately, along with the stupid dirt craving.
“What the hell is that, Jim?” McCoy asked, as Jim took up a seat at their usual table.
“A salad, Bones, what does it look like?” Jim asked, picking up his fork and stabbing some of the shredded carrot.
“It looks like something you never voluntarily eat without drowning it in dressing,” McCoy answered, reaching for his glass.
Jim glared at him and Spock looked up from his vegetable stir-fry to examine Jim’s tray. It was true that Jim was never one to eat such things, but Spock noticed that McCoy had also changed his eating habits for this meal. He would normally drink coffee, but instead had a vegetable drink raised to his lips. Well healthy eating should always be encouraged, so rather than watching them get into argument over perfectly valid food choices Spock tried to change the subject.
“Jim, could I interest you in a game of chess this evening?”
“Sure, Spock.”
“You are welcome to join us as always, Doctor.”
McCoy nodded. “Sounds great,” he said. He wanted to be with them as much as he could now.
***
Life went on much like that. Jim’s craving for dirt diminished with his new diet, so he gave himself a clean bill of health, and continued to dodge the quarterly physicals. McCoy meanwhile kept a regular schedule of checkups and dutifully watched over the growing life inside him.
After one such round with the machines in his sickbay he kept an image of what he had been viewing that day. In his quarters clutching the sonogram picture tightly he, blaming the hormones, cried because he couldn’t share that with the ones he had come to love so much.
***
The three of them were on another away mission, though they had dealt with this race before so there were no surprises this time. The natives insisted on taking them through several ceremonies though so they stayed planet side for the night.
The three of them stumbled into their room, exhausted from the day’s diplomacy. Sharing a room together had been declared the logical decision by the natives so they could discuss the day’s events easily among themselves. In fact it was necessary McCoy thought as he put a hand over his stomach that was starting to round out and push against the stupidly tight dress uniform.
McCoy took off the uniform and draped it over the back of the couch, un-tucking his shirt, and sighing. If he was going to do it now was the best time. He had already drawn up his letter of resignation and he wanted to talk to Jim before he sent it. They had been through death and life together, and Jim deserved to know that he wasn’t leaving the Enterprise because of anything he or Spock had done.
Before he could confront Jim though McCoy made a detour to bathroom; the kid was wreaking havoc on his bladder lately. It must be the pointed ears that were poking it all the time.
He came out of the bathroom to find Spock checking his tricorder while Jim was already sprawled on the bed, his uniform and shirt flung on a bedpost. McCoy frowned, it wasn’t like Jim not to want to go out and see the city night life.
“Jim, you all right?” he asked, coming over and touching his shoulder.
“Yeah,” Jim answered, slowly opening his eyes, “I’m just tired.”
“Really?” McCoy asked, while trying to fight back a yawn.
Jim smiled. “Seems like you are too, Bones.”
“It’s nothing.”
It’s everything.
The bed sank down as Spock sat down next to Jim.
“Are you certain you are well, Jim?”
Jim nodded and cuddled closer to his pillow. Spock stayed closed to him. Then they turned their attention to McCoy, looking at him with inquiring eyes, letting him know that he was welcome to join them.
He couldn’t do it, not when he was so close to leaving. It would just make it hurt more than it already did.
McCoy didn’t miss the looks of disappointment as he shook his head and wandered back out to the living room. It was better this way he reminded himself. They could have each other and he could continue his life…somewhere. Jim talked about an old Vulcan he kept in contact with on New Vulcan, maybe he needed a roommate. Turing on the screen on the wall he sat down on the couch to watch something mindless. McCoy yawned again and let his eye fluttered closed. He’ll just rest here for a moment.
***
The next thing McCoy knew he was being shaken awake by Jim.
“Come on, Bones, were going to be late!”
“Late to what? It’s the middle of the night!”
Jim didn’t answer, but went running back into the bedroom to finish getting ready.
McCoy took that time to look out the window and see the hazy light of morning filtering through the curtains. Oh, crap he’d slept the entire night away on the couch! Quickly he grabbed his uniform and started buttoning it up; and he could swear that it felt even smaller than it did yesterday.
“Good thing you were already dressed,” Jim said, coming back out the bedroom trying to button up his uniform and comb his hair at the same time.
“Where the hell’s Spock? The hobgoblin is his own personal alarm clock. He should have gotten us up!”
“He’s up on the ship. He said he’d meet us at the rendezvous spot.”
Jim grabbed McCoy’s arm and they left the room.
It was a mad dash to the beam down point, but they made just as Spock came down in a simmer of white.
“Jim, Leonard.”
They nodded at him while trying to catch their breath. A few minutes later the delegate and his aide arrived to escort them to breakfast, except McCoy didn’t want to think about food. He hadn’t made his morning offering to the porcelain god, and running all the way from the local guest accommodations certainly hadn’t helped. He clenched his jaw shut and tried to think about something else. His body was having none of it though, and all he could think about was being sick on the aide’s highly polished shoes.
Their boots clicked along the marble stone as they were taken out to a large balcony overlooking the gardens. A table had been set out and McCoy sunk into the first available chair, closing his eyes and breathing deeply for a moment. He missed the look of concern on Spock’s face at his actions, and the fact that Jim looked a little green as well.
When McCoy opened his eyes the first course was being laid out for them. It was a small bowl with a stack of yellow cakes, with three small dark blue balls of some kind of jelly on the top of them. Any other time McCoy probably would have had three of them, but not right now.
The leader of the planet began explaining the history of her people, it was a tradition on the planet to tell of the journey of the civilisation that had tamed the land and made it bring forth such bounty to them. In grand display she brought down her fork and broke the edge of the food item, and the runny insides of the cake spilled onto the plate.
That was it.
“Excuse me,” McCoy mumbled, and bolted out of the chair. He raced across the balcony and leaned over the railing as his body heaved for all it was worth.
McCoy flushed in embarrassment, but managed to glance to the side to see, to his shock, that Jim was now beside him and tossing his cookies just as bad as he was.
“Something you ate, Jim?” he asked when he was finished, wiping his mouth and sliding down to sit of the floor.
Jim laughed and winced as the action irritated his throat. “You have the nerve to ask that, Bones? You were over here before I was.”
Yeah, but McCoy knew what his problem was, he didn’t know what had set Jim off.
“I know I just…” he trailed off afraid he might need to be sick again. Thankfully the kid had decided he had embarrassed his old man enough for one day and his stomach settled down.
Jim and McCoy jumped slightly as warm hands pressed against their backs, and Spock knelt down next to them.
“Captain, Doctor.”
“It’s okay, Spock. I’m okay. Bones is right it’s probably just something I ate.”
“Yeah, this is nothing. It’ll go away on its own.”
Spock and Jim stared at McCoy.
“This has happened before?” Spock asked.
McCoy swore to himself, knowing he had just blown it.
“I know what it is, and I’m not discussing it here,” he said firmly.
“Very well,” Spock said, and helped both men back to their feet.
***
With many profuse apologies breakfast was salvaged. The rest of the meetings continued without incident, if one didn’t count Spock constantly glancing over at Jim and McCoy; or McCoy mentally kicking himself every half an hour for opening his big mouth.
When it was all over the three of them went back to their room. McCoy sat on the bed between Jim and Spock, a blanket drawn up around his knees.
“How long has this been going on?” Jim asked.
“A couple of weeks,” McCoy muttered.
“What?!”
“Is this why you wish to leave the Enterprise?” Spock inquired.
McCoy stilled, how could he know about that?
Jim’s eyes widened. “Leaving?! Bones, what is he talking about?”
“It isn’t official, Jim.”
Spock was not going to let him off that easy.
“But you intend it, Leonard. I received a copy of your proposed resignation.”
Stupid auto-forward function, McCoy thought.
Jim reached out a hand, cupping McCoy’s face so he could look him in the eye.
“Bones?”
“I haven’t sent it anywhere, Jim, at least I didn’t mean to. I wanted to talk to you first.”
Jim sat back stiffly, and his body language told McCoy that this had better be good.
“So talk,” he said.
McCoy sighed; he really didn’t want to do this, not like this. “It’s…personal and it’s my…issue you two aren’t obligated to do anything.”
Spock put one hand on McCoy’s shoulder.
“Our union came about in far less than ideal circumstances, Leonard, but do not conclude that that means I don’t care deeply about both of you.”
“Bones, if you’re sick I’ll put you on temporary leave. You can study to find a cure!”
“Jim, relax I’m not sick,” he took a deep breath, “I’m…I’m pregnant.”
A tense silence filled the room. McCoy looked down at the blanket covering his legs, twisting it with one hand.
“One of you please say something.”
“It is mine?” Spock blurted out.
McCoy rolled his eyes. “No Spock, its Christine’s! She and I have been meeting in the supply room after work; of course it’s yours!”
Silence fell over them once more and so McCoy spoke again.
“So, so you understand why I have to leave, right? Why you two can be together and I’ll go planetside somewhere, a starship is no place for a kid.”
“You planned to leave and never inform us of the child?” Spock asked.
“No! I mean I don’t-didn’t mean it like that. I just wanted, I mean I’m just…and you two were…”
McCoy stopped speaking as Jim hugged him.
“It’s not him and me, Bones, it’s us, all three of us. Why didn’t you tell us?”
“I didn’t think that you’d want to…to be involved,” he mumbled into Jim’s shoulder. “I wasn’t very successful at making a relationship work with a kid the last time. I just thought…”
McCoy trailed off again as Spock wrapped his arms around McCoy from behind.
“You thought incorrectly, Leonard.”
“I guess I did.”
“Bones, how did you know?”
“I’m a doctor, and even if I wasn’t the signs were obvious; the morning sickness of course, and the cravings. You think I’ve been eating all those vegetable drinks and chocolate covered pasta because I like it?”
“No, I just thought the food processor was broken and you just didn’t want to yell at Scotty when he had fifty other things to do.”
Jim had gotten some candy flavoured omelette the other morning and had eaten it just to be polite, and had actually really liked it. And he had been sick just today, but could that mean…?
“Bones, does it mean anything to crave dirt?”
McCoy stared at Jim for a long moment.
“It’s often seen as a mineral or nutrient deficiency, it’s often pointed to as a common sign of pregnancy, why?”
“Well I just I mean I’ve noticed that I….you don’t think I’m…am I pregnant too?”
McCoy frowned, it was possible. Quickly he grabbed his medical kit and scanned Jim. When he was finished he couldn’t hold back a smile at the results.
“Congratulations, Jim.”
Jim just sat on the bed stiffly in shock. He was pregnant.
“Shit! I didn’t know I didn’t-I haven’t hurt it have I!?”
“You will if you keep stressing out like that.”
“Oh, god.”
McCoy put his hand on Jim’s arm.
“Jim, you’ve been eating better, and the last few missions have been boring, you’ve said so yourself. The baby should be just fine.”
He leaned over Jim and scanned him more thoroughly.
“The kid’s a little small, but perfectly healthy,” he announced.
“Wow.” Jim’s eyes were wide as he started rubbing his stomach and looking at McCoy’s “We’re going to have to talk about this some more aren’t we?” he asked.
Spock glanced between them.
“Indeed we are.”
***
Jim and McCoy sat in chairs at the Vulcan embassy. They were several PADDS, a melting bowl of pickles and ice cream, and a jug of fruit water between them.
McCoy was using one of the PADDs awkwardly as a fan and glaring at Jim.
“Jim, remind me again why we have to be here.”
“It’s important that we fill out all the proper forms to establish a rotating schedule between the ship and the colony,” Jim quoted for the fifteenth time, while wondering if he would ever be able to see his feet again.
Jim brightened though when Spock came in the room a moment later, with a familiar Vulcan at his side.
“Selek!”
“Jim, it is wonderful to see you again.”
The older Vulcan came up to them, looking them over.
“I thought you might continue to rebuild our race, Spock. Still I did not expect you to be quite so…productive.”
The tips of Spock’s ears turned green.
“The circumstances were…unusual.”
When those three were involved Selek didn’t doubt it.
The End