Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek or profit from this work of fan fiction.
Summary: Continuing stories of Jim and Spock on their journey to parenthood. Sequel to 'Souvenir'
Hello! Since the heat index is 104* I decided that it is an excellent day to begin the next installment of our hottest parental duo. 'Junior' will probably not have any fight scenes, not to say there won't be drama though. The last fic was at 13 weeks, this one has skipped quite a months ahead – may or may not go back and add them later. I hope you all enjoy and leave me lots of reviews!
Junior
Annoyance should not have penetrated the mental shields of a Vulcan, yet for Commander Spock it was infecting his mind at an alarming rate. He had always taken great care in his appearance, constantly looking professional and spotless for his shifts. But today as he stood before the mirror in their shared bathroom, he noticed that his uniform would no longer cover his growing body. The pants would not button and his shirt was not long enough for the hem to meet his pants' waist. His twenty-eight week pregnant abdomen had grown much too large to be accommodated by his current clothing selection, and it seemed to have done such over night. While he had seen many pregnant female with this fashion statement, showing off their stretched abdomens, he was the half-Vulcan Commander of the USS Enterprise, this was not acceptable.
It a rare fit of anger, well it would have been classified as rare before his hormonal fluctuations, Spock ripped the blue tunic from his body and shoved his pants to his ankle stepping out and kicking them across the bathroom. Without slowing down, he stalked towards his closet and pulled out his Vulcan meditation robe. Slipping into the white, soft material helped to relax him, until he noticed that the middle was straining to conceal his son's growth once more. Logically, he knew that because his abdomen had been so flat before pregnancy that it would be a shocking change to his physical appearance. However, he had not taken into account the havoc it would wreak on his wardrobe. Sighing, he sat on the edge of the bed, trying not to notice how the robe allowed his black under shirt to peak out.
His t'hy'la, Jim, had remained a silent observer this entire time, knowing better than to intervene with an upset pregnant Vulcan and his tight clothing. Running his hand gently over his lover's back, the blonde leaned forward. "I can have some maternity uniforms ordered for you." His voice was tender, trying not to invoke the rage of his hormonal husband.
Fighting the illogical emotion growing in his chest at Jim mentioning him needing a large size, Spock stood from the bed. "I have an appointment with Dr. McCoy. I will see you on the bridge." His voice was clipped; his eyes did not meet the concerned blue.
Quickly jumping from the bed, Jim wrapped his arms around Spock's waist. "It is a natural development of pregnancy, remember? We knew this day would come. You will look unbelievable hot in the new uniform." He patted the baby bump, cooing to the taller man.
Even with the dramatic emotional display, Jim's words helped to calm Spock. "I am aware that the day would come when I would no longer be able to wear my current clothing. Although, I did not think that day would come so quickly." A slight frown tugged at the corner of his lips.
Kissing the sagging corner of his mouth, Jim smiled brightly. "That just means little man is growing up to be big and strong." He pulled him back to arms length, letting his eyes trace over every new curve. "You are still my sexy Commander." He grinned, wiggling his eyebrows.
Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, Spock raised an irritated eyebrow and stepped out of the human's embrace. "Jim, you are highly illogical." He was pleased by Jim's words, but would never openly admit to such. "Dr. McCoy is waiting. I shall be on the bridge as soon as he releases me." Straightening his robe to once more cover his growing body, Spock took a deep breath and Jim nodded his understanding. Every daily visit meant they were one day closer to becoming parents.
~!~!~!~
Very few things were outside of Dr. Leonard 'Bones' McCoy's normal scope of practice as a ship's physician, but a pregnant male Vulcan happened to be one. So of course the green-blooded hobgoblin had become his first male patient to be with child. Internally, Bones was ecstatic, but he'd be damned if he let anyone know that. Every morning, Spock reported to Med Bay for a check-up before Bones would clear him for duty. So far the vigils had shown nothing out of the ordinary. Their son, who had yet to be named which Bones thought was a crying shame, was perfect. He recently was beginning to fill-out nicely and would no doubt be a large, healthy newborn. Of course this in turn meant that his father, or mother, was also beginning to fill-out.
Waiting at their normal bio-bed, Bones caught a flash of white entering the Med Bay. Spock was in his Meditation robe and it was barely concealing his protruding girth as he stalked towards the physician. It didn't take an IQ of Pavel Chekov's to see that Spock had grown out of his uniform and was not happy about it. "Good Morning, Spock. Did you sleep well?" Bones might not be brilliant, but he was not stupid. There was no way in five hells that he was going to ask about the change in fashion style.
Spock sat on the biobed and allowed Bones to help him lean back. "I slept well." His answer was short and to the point, even more clipped than normal.
Sighing, Bones began to run his scans. A pissed Spock made for a lousy day. "Heart rate is good, 153 beats per minute, which is the median between a human and Vulcan baby, as you know. Movement is sporadic, but good. You are doing the kick counts, right?" His gazed flicked up to the slightly-green face.
As usual Spock was in awe as the heartbeat was broadcast over the speakers. It seemed to have calmed him down. "He kicked 104 times yesterday." The tension had left the Vulcan's body.
Bones nodded and continued his checks. "Everything is fine." Taking the Commander's forearm, he pulled Spock into a sitting position. "I have added some different lipids to the serum to help build is fat stores. Like I keep telling you, Vulcan and Humans have different gestational lengths, so he could be born any time now or several months from now, and we are taking every precaution to ensure his development is as accelerated as possible so that when he arrives, I won't have to keep him in here too long. The last thing I need is another hobgoblin under foot." He gently jabbed the hypo into his patient's neck.
Adjusting his robe, Spock stood from the bed. "Thank you for all your dedication to the treatment of our son, Leonard." His voice softened minutely.
Chuckling, Bones slapped his friend on the back. "I have to make sure that little hell 'un is in tip-top shape before he's born, because by the time he can walk, it will be every man for himself." He smiled happily at the slightly blanching Vulcan.
Recovering quickly, Spock turned to face the doctor. "As you are the CMO, you have access to order maternity uniforms." Bones nodded and Spock continued. "I would prefer if you requested my new size, Jim has offered but…" He trailed off.
Smiling, Bones nodded and led his patient to his office. "I understand not wanting Jim to order your clothing. He'd have you in some low-cut, tight number and want you to dance the Macarena on command." Completely ignoring the true reason for the request, Bones began imputing the correct size into his personal replicator, as he had already anticipated the additions for Spock's request months ago. He turned back to face the confused Vulcan as the machine re-arranged atoms into his command. "It's a crazy dance they force on frat pledges." Bones shrugged.
The replicator signaled its completion and Bones handed the five new tunics and stretchy pants to the Commander. "I have specifically designed these tops for a male body. They aren't the frilly things those women wear, I promise. I can't have the First Officer looking like a blue bell up there on the bridge. You can change in here, if you prefer." Smiling, he left the relieved Spock to change.
~!~!~!~
The uniform tops were exactly like those he had worn his entire service career, but with two small patches of spandex running the length of the shirt under his arms. They would allow the uniform to drape his body exactly like he was accustomed and not hang loosely like the normal maternity tops. Spock was amazed that McCoy had taken the effort to ensure his masculinity had not been compromised as his body grew. That one small, genuinely kind gesture nearly brought tears to his eyes. McCoy had been so supporting during the pregnancy, it warmed Spock's heart.
Five minutes and a new uniform later, the stoic Vulcan took his place on the bridge. Confidence restored.
A/N: Thank you for reading
So Spock has maternity clothes… Now the baby needs a name and the happy parents need a baby shower. Any suggestions?
Please hit the review button! It's like ice cubes on this hellish day
