Warnings: Slash, mpreg, some language. K/Mc
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek
It's Right Enough
James T. Kirk ducked behind a stack of supply crates as gunfire narrowly missed the doorway of the aircraft hangar that he had decided to shelter in. He crouched defensively with his phaser held at the ready as his Vulcan first officer used his superior strength to wrestle the enormous sliding door of the hangar shut.
Outside, the sounds of war crescendoed. The piercing hum of the planet's native aircraft gave way to the muted rumbles of bombs being dropped in the distance, and the occasional barrage of gunfire. On top of that, the wind was howling as a hurricane-like storm built, as one did every afternoon in this region of the planet.
Jin glanced around the hangar, taking a head count of his fellow officers as well as the civilians that they'd taken shelter with. If his count was correct, they'd only lost two people in the mad dash for shelter. Of those remaining, no one seemed to be seriously injured, though they were all certainly shaken.
Jim saw Bones near the back of the hangar, running his hands carefully over the protruding stomach of a pregnant native, searching for signs of any problems. The sight of him, safe and uninjured, cut through the adrenaline in Jim's system and calmed his rapid pulse, and he allowed himself a brief smile.
"Are we safe here?" Jim asked as Spock knelt beside Jim behind the crates.
"For the present," Spock replied. "It also sounds as if the attack is ceasing, though for obvious reasons I would advise you against going outside. The radiation could prove harmful to you while you are in this condition."
Jim rolled his eyes impatiently, and searched the hangar again to see if his help was needed. Around him were a select few members of his crew, as well as about twenty female natives. Considering his current circumstances, Jim found it highly ironic that they were all pregnant.
On this planet, as yet unnamed by the Federation, pregnancy seemed to be regarded as an illness, and all pregnant women were kept in a hospital-esque facility until they gave birth. They were not to have any contact with the outside world. That was why when the bombs started falling, none of the other natives had bothered to evacuate them to safety. So Jim had taken things into his own hands.
And because Bones was the only surviving medical officer with the landing party, he had taken responsibility for all twenty or so women.
Seeing relative peace, Jim relaxed into a sitting position, leaning back against the crates. Spock remained crouched on one knee, at the ready.
Jim sighed, trying to calm himself. Bones was safe. His crew was safe. The women were safe. He was safe.
"Captain? Are you injured?" Spock asked, looking briefly away from the door to study his friend.
"I'm fine, Spock," Jim said with a reassuring grin. "Just a little tired."
"Understandable," Spock said, finding the answer satisfactory.
Seconds later, a piercing scream tore through the air and Jim redrew his phaser in one quick movement. Spock stilled his hand with a light touch to his shoulder.
"It is no cause for concern, Captain," Spock said.
The scream had come from one of the pregnant women, who seemed to be going rapidly into labor. He smiled as he watched Bones hastily gather his medkit and rush to her side.
The rest of the hangar was strangely quiet as the woman gave birth. The only sounds were her pained moans and Bones' steady voice, coaching her through it. Jim absently rested his hands on his own flat stomach, his thoughts racing as he watched the man he loved guide a new life into the universe.
There was a loud rumble outside, much louder than the others had been. Jim couldn't tell if it was the product of the storm or an explosion, but his breath hitched in fright either way. He craned his neck over the crates to look at the door. He fleetingly wished for x-ray vision, so he could see what was happening outside.
His kneeling position was a bit awkward, and he rested his hand on Spock's shoulder for balance, also finding comfort in a muted buzz of emotions from his friend's touch-telepathy. He knew that Spock could sense Jim's distress through the touch as well, but sharing that feeling with Spock was strangely relieving.
Jim never used to feel fear on away missions—it was when he fell in love with Bones that he began to worry each time he went out onto a new planet. Not that he'd necessarily been looking for danger before, but it was still different. Somehow, loving his best friend and being loved in return gave Jim a purpose in life—and made life that much more precious. And now, with recent developments, a healthy dose of worry on away missions had turned to righteous fear. The sounds of what could be impending doom approaching from outside the hangar only made it worse. He clutched his stomach anxiously.
Slowly, after what felt like an eternity, the rumbling quieted again—became distant. Jim slumped in relief against the crates. "How long do you think it'll take to fix the transporter?" he asked, and damn it, his voice was shaky.
"I cannot say," Spock replied, "though I must add that Mr. Scott is unmatched in his expertise. We are in good hands."
"You're just saying that so I won't worry," Jim muttered.
Spock gazed at him calmly. "I am not."
In the silence that followed they were made aware of a new sound—loud and grating but beautiful nonetheless. The baby was born. It sounded healthy.
Jim watched Bones and the new mother lean over the infant; both were grinning with pride. Bones reached out to touch the newborn's face gently. Jim could hardly remember ever seeing him so giddy in his life. Again, he spread a hand on his stomach thoughtfully.
"Bones loves babies," Jim said absently to Spock. "It took me two long years to get him to admit it, but…the only thing that Bones loves more than bourbon is babies."
"And you, Jim," Spock said in a shocking display of almost-emotion.
Jim glanced at Spock with a small smile, and then shrugged. "Yeah. That too."
"This is why I find it…puzzling that you have not told Doctor McCoy about your condition."
Jim rolled his eyes again. "Jeez, Spock, you make it sound like I have a disease," he teased. "It's a baby, not a condition."
"I am aware that it is a baby, Captain. I did not mean to offend—"
Jim cut him off. "Shut up, Spock, I'm not offended. I just don't get why you can't say pregnant. I'm pregnant."
"Indeed," Spock said in the mild tone he used when he thought Jim was being insufferable. Slowly, almost shamefully, he held a hand out towards Jim. "May I?" he asked.
"Oh. Sure," Jim said, moving his own hands away so Spock could press his palm on Jim's stomach.
"Fascinating," Spock noted.
Jim laughed. "You always say that."
"I have never observed another male that has undergone the hormonal treatments necessary to bear a child," Spock said. "Nor have I ever attempted to contact an unborn child with telepathy before. I can sense the fetus' presence."
Jim perked up. "You can hear its thoughts?"
"Negative, Captain," Spock replied. "It has very little mental process this early in development. I merely sense its existence."
That was still enough to make Jim happy, and he smiled contentedly. He rested his head against the crates and closed his eyes, allowing himself to feel the buzz of Spock's touch-telepathy even through his shirt. But he still wished it was Bones' hands on his stomach, in awe of the life he and Jim had created together.
"I must repeat my personal query: Why do you not wish to tell McCoy of the child?"
Jim shrugged and ran a nervous hand through his hair. "I'm just waiting for the right moment, I guess. I want it to really mean something." He glanced up at where Bones was kneeling next to another pregnant woman, only to find that the doctor was already staring at Jim and Spock strangely. Then Jim realized Spock was still touching his stomach.
Jim reached down and snagged Spock's sleeve, pulling the hand from his stomach. He supposed that he shouldn't spend too much time brushing minds with his First Officer. It felt too…intimate.
"Illogical," Spock stated. "I believe that if someone I cared for were to gift me with a child, I would wish to be informed."
Jim smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Getting a little choked up are we? That was almost...emotional, coming from you."
Spock's eyebrows inched upwards, just slightly. "I was simply voicing my thoughts Captain."
Jim glanced over at Bones again. The other man was now tending to one of the older women.
"Furthermore," Spock went on, "even if you were to tell him at an entirely mundane moment in time, given the emotional significance of the news, that moment would cease to be mundane. I assure you that any moment you choose to tell him would indeed 'mean something'."
Jim ran another hand through his hair. Stupid Vulcan logic. "Okay then. When do you think is a good time to tell him?"
"Logically? Now would be acceptable."
Jim made an indignant sound. "Now? We're in the middle of a crisis!"
"We are perfectly safe at the moment," Spock corrected him, "and we have no means of escape until the transporter is repaired. The doctor's patients are well, and you have no current duties to attend to. From a purely logical standpoint—"
Again, Jim stopped him from rambling. "Alright, fine," he said stubbornly, though he couldn't deny the excited butterflies that had made a home in his stomach at the thought of sharing the news with Bones. "I'm going, okay?"
Spock nodded. "That is satisfactory."
It took Jim a surprisingly long time to reach Bones, with several of his security officers side-tracking him with questions on his way over, but when he finally broke free of them he found Bones checking again on the newborn child.
Bones looked up as Jim approached and frowned slightly. He cleared his throat. "Need something Jim?"
Jim didn't answer, but knelt beside Bones to have a closer look at the infant.
"She's…cute," Jim offered, then cringed inwardly. He'd hoped for something more heartfelt than that.
"It's a boy, Jim," Bones said, rolling his eyes in exasperation. He handed the baby back to its mother and stood. Jim rose with him.
"So, are you leaving me?" Bones asked. "Or is there another reason that Spock was groping you in the corner?"
Jim frowned at him. "Actually, yeah, there is another reason."
Bones crossed his arms defensively, closing down as he usually did when he was genuinely upset. "Well, I'd certainly love to hear it."
"Good," Jim said, "'cause you're going to."
"Please, enlighten me," Bones said stiffly. His eyes flickered from Jim's face to a point off in the distance, where Jim knew Spock was sitting. Though he usually disapproved of jealousy in relationships, he couldn't help feeling a swell of affection towards Bones, seeing him so hot and bothered. He tried to reach for Bones' hand, but the other man jerked away from his touch.
"I'm waiting, Jim," Bones snapped, and his tone felt to Jim like a kick to the gut. Damn hormones, he thought.
"It's big news, Bones," Jim said. "I'd prefer it if you weren't snarling at me while I tell you."
Bones huffed. "Dammit Jim, I don't have time for this. There're twenty-odd pregnant women in here and some of them are about to pop. I have to be there for all of them, all at once. I'm only one person, you know."
Jim nodded, trying to ignore the sinking in his gut. He understood the situation. He could wait until a better time. "So let me help you," he offered.
Bones laughed derisively. "No thanks, I'll handle it. I wouldn't let you within ten feet of a helpless child."
Jim winced, wondering when Bones had become so effective at hurting him with nothing but words.
"Even if it was our own helpless child?" he demanded coldly.
Bones froze in gathering several of his hypos from the ground. "What?" He straightened up, focusing a confused glare on Jim.
"Yeah. That's what I was trying to say," Jim growled. "I'm pregnant."
If Bones hadn't once given him a ten-minute lecture on the symptoms of an aneurysm, Jim would have thought Bones was having one. He stared at Jim incredulously until Jim's anger faded and worry replaced it.
"That's not funny Jim," Bones finally said irritably.
It took Jim a moment to process what was being said. "Wha…?"
"I don't have time to joke around," Bones said. "Some of us have actual work to do, so why don't you go back to your corner and snuggle with the Vulcan?" Bones turned away, dismissing Jim, but Jim just glared with growing anger at his back.
He grabbed Bones' arm roughly and spun him back around.
Bones sighed. "What, Jim?"
"You're a dumbass!" Jim shouted furiously. "You think I'm joking around?" He grabbed Bones' wrist in both hands and pressed his palm roughly against his stomach. "I'm not! But don't believe me, let's ask Spock. He can sense it with his telepathy. That's why he was 'groping' me, you selfish motherf—"
"Okay, Jim, I'm sorry," Bones said, looking around the hangar nervously. They'd drawn the attention of everyone who wasn't unconscious. He grabbed Jim's hand in his own, hoping to calm him. Looking closer, he saw Jim's eyes were hazy with unshed tears and his voice softened. "I'm sorry."
"I don't care!" Jim yelled, pulling against Bones' grip. "Let go of me!"
Bones pulled Jim in quickly and kissed him, hard and apologetic. Jim struggled, beating a loose fist against Bones' shoulder, but his heart wasn't in it. The fight slowly drained out of Jim and he relaxed into Bones' arms and allowed himself to be kissed.
Bones pulled back and pressed his forehead to Jim's gently. "I love you," he breathed, cupping Jim's neck with one hand and rubbing circles onto Jim's jaw with his thumb.
Jim closed his eyes and leaned forward into Bones. "I love you too," he said, his voice cracking as he held back tears. He laughed. "Damn hormones."
"Nothing to be ashamed of," Bones said.
Jim felt both of Bones' hands rest gently against his stomach and he leaned his head forward on Bones' shoulder to look down at them pressed between their bodies.
"This isn't how I wanted to tell you," Jim said softly. "I was waiting for the right moment."
"It's right enough," Bones assured him. "Hell, it's the best moment of my life."
Jim's hands went to the back of Bones' shirt and gripped it like a lifeline. "I…I'm gonna need you with me for this," Jim said. "All of this."
Bones started rubbing his thumb into Jim's stomach in the same way they'd rubbed Jim's neck and Jim hummed contentedly. "Jim, I think it's safe to say that for the next nine months, I won't leave your side unless security drags me away."
With Bones' hands still hovering protectively over Jim's stomach, and the look of awe and happiness and love in his eyes, Jim didn't have any trouble believing it. He threaded his fingers through Bones' hair, feeling, for the first time in his life, honestly proud of himself. Proud that he could give Bones something that was both of theirs, equally. Proud that he had made Bones look at him with something akin to amazement. Proud that Bones chose him.
Jim was on a foreign, hostile planet. Outside, a storm was brewing and a war was raging.
It was still the best moment of his life.
"Jim?" Bones said.
"Hmm?" Jim replied.
"Why the hell did the hobgoblin know before I did?"
Finis.
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