A/N: Spock does something atypical in this chapter (well, more atypical than usual) and I'm asking for your patience as well as your indulgence. Also, please read the second A/N at the end of the chapter before reviewing. Thanks.
Chapter 9
U.S.S. Enterprise, Stardate 2261.99, 1235 hours. Spock was sitting in the Mess picking at his lunch when two familiar voices piped up beyond his shoulder. "I hope she ees alright. Eet ees very quiet on the bridge without her." He heard the navigator pick his way carefully among the tables. "I vonder vhat ees wrong?"
His ears pricked up as there was now no mistaking who the young man was referring to. Spock had been wondering precisely the same thing since he first saw Lieutenant Uhura collapse but there was no information to be had; he was effectively shut out.
"I don't know," Lieutenant Sulu chimed in. "I mean, it's like she's under quarantine. No one's seen her in days and McCoy and the Captain won't tell anybody anything except that she's ok and resting comfortably."
He was granted a measure of relief at the news but still found he could not eat. Pushing the plomeek soup around he continued to eavesdrop as the men drew closer.
"Vhat does Vendy haf to say?"
The pilot's retort was sharp and quick. "What makes you think she has anything to say?"
"Vell you haf been spending a lot of time with her and she does vork in sickbay…not to mention that you both like each other a lot."
The pair came around his table and paused on the other side. "She…" the Lieutenant stopped short. "Wait, you really think she likes me?"
Ensign Chekov rolled his eyes then turned in his direction. "Commander, may ve join you?"
Now he could be an active participant in their discussion about Lieutenant Uhura. "You may."
The pilot pulled out a chair and quickly sat down. "Thanks. And as far as Wendy goes she says she can't tell me anything other then that the Lieutenant's stable and ok." He took a sip of his tea and looked up thoughtfully for a moment. "Of course, she's always like 'She's okkkk' and then gives me this adorable goofy smile…"
Mr. Chekov looked pointedly in his direction and pretended to gag before rolling his eyes again and grinning. Indeed, Spock was also most perplexed by this turn in the conversation. Other than the higher pitch and elongation of the last syllable he did not discern any particular nuance that Lieutenant Sulu might have picked up on. However, he did understand to some extent why the other man was confused.
"Indeed. I find the vagaries and intonations of emotional human speech patterns to be most perplexing as well."
His company nodded in agreement before resuming their meal.
U.S.S. Enterprise, Stardate 2261.100, 0947 hours. Nyota didn't understand what all the fuss was about anymore. She had the numbing cream, had been taking her medication regularly, and had kept her feet up for the last four days and the baby was definitely settling down; and while it was all but impossible for her to deny being pregnant anymore she felt fine. Better than fine, in fact. So much so that she couldn't imagine six more days cooped up in her quarters with nothing to do.
Really, Len was overreacting.
Rising up from the sofa she sauntered into the bedroom and eyed her wardrobe critically. She couldn't get away with the standard uniform now—the skirt would barely cover her bottom—and Nyota didn't want to start the ship's gossip by requisitioning a maternity outfit from stores. With the decision made for her she turned to her casual clothes but her stock of shirts, skirts and pants wouldn't do either. Everything was too fitted and tight.
Oh well, game over. McCoy won this round.
Giving up with a sigh she moved away and began mentally compiling a shopping list for her next shore leave when her eyes darted over to her bottom dresser drawer. Pulling it open she withdrew the sweats and examined them closely for any possible defects. She rarely wore them but kept them just in case and now she was glad that she had. The pants had an elastic waist and if she kept her hands in the front pocket of the hooded sweatshirt no one would be the wiser.
Fifteen minutes later and decked out in the least flattering outfit she'd ever worn Nyota took her first steps on her stroll about the ship. Most of her friends and colleagues were working but those few she passed stopped to chat and ask after her health. Without going into detail she helped put their fears at ease.
After a quick pit stop in the lab she made her way up to the bridge, and as she exited the turbolift all eyes turned to her and Nyota saw Kirk's brow go up in question. "I'm just picking up some work, that's all. I'll be out of your hair in five minutes." The concern was quickly replaced by a mischievous gleam and with a pointed finger she added, "And don't you dare think of tattling on me to Len."
The Captain threw up his hands in defeat. "Wouldn't dream of it." Turning back around she heard him whisper loudly, "Defying orders, insubordination with implied threat of bodily harm to a superior…" Sulu and Chekov snickered as they went back to their stations.
Nyota knew they were all curious about her emergency sick leave when she was so obviously healthy but they were professionals and had their own duties to attend to; besides, once word got out she was expecting they'd know what went on soon enough. Everyone was busy save for one man and as Nyota locked eyes with Spock she felt the blush rise up to her cheeks. Was it possible he suspected her condition? Not wanting to know the answer she hustled to her station and dismissed Ensign Bellor for a coffee break.
Five minutes quickly turned into twenty-five and she heard the Captain clear his throat in warning. "Uhura…"
"Five more minutes."
"That's what you said ten minutes ago."
God, he is such a child! She had every intention of turning her station back over to Bellor (who was waiting patiently in the wings), she just needed to finish downloading this new sample translation software Starfleet wanted her to test first.
It was as she was strumming her fingers along the countertop waiting for her PADD that Nyota felt the first rumblings in her stomach.
No! No, no, no, NO!
Bracing herself as discreetly as she could she chanced a look at her PADD and saw the transfer was only 45% complete. Inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly Nyota worked her way through the bombardment while the seconds ticked past. Another minute and the download was 87% complete; meanwhile the tremors grew to full out quakes. Len was going to kill her when she walked into sickbay.
The download was no sooner done then she motioned for Bellor and rose unsteadily on her feet to face the firing squad. As soon as she did the whole room swayed.
The turbolift doors parted and Spock had never been gladder to see Lieutenant Uhura standing there under her own power. Despite her unusual and extremely casual attire she appeared to be in peak physical form, the utter opposite of how she looked just four days before. Smiling sweetly at everyone she turned her attention to the Captain. "I'm just picking up some work, that's all. I'll be out of your hair in five minutes." The man said nothing and yet the Lieutenant scowled. "And don't you dare think of tattling on me to Len."
"Wouldn't dream of it." Swiveling about he heard the Captain utter loudly, "Defying orders, insubordination with implied threat of bodily harm to a superior…"
Spock's eyebrows shot up. Those were serious charges to level against a fellow officer, however, the Lieutenant did not seem unduly ruffled by the accusations. Perhaps this was all part of their unorthodox relationship, or so he surmised. Meeting his gaze, he watched the blood rush to her cheeks and the Lieutenant quickly stepped forward to dismiss her subordinate. Spock returned to his own work.
27.1 minutes had passed and Ensign Bellor was still standing at ease against the far wall, eyes on her superior as she awaited return to her station.
"Uhura…" Captain Kirk warned.
She waved him off without turning around. "Five more minutes."
"That's what you said ten minutes ago."
9.78 minutes ago, he mentally corrected. Bent over his microscope he listened for the familiar comm. station chair squeak, indicating the Lieutenant was at last ready to depart. As she rose he heard the sharp intake of breath and whipped around in time to see her eyes roll to white as she sagged to the ground. Spock was out of his chair before Ensign Bellor had a chance to raise the alarm.
"LIEUTENANT!"
His knees burned against the carpet as he slid in to stop her head from hitting the corner of the console. Lieutenant Uhura was unconscious with no apparent cause. He rose with her cradled in his arms, shifting her limp form against him to allow for greater ease of movement; as he did so the palm of his hand ghosted across the exposed skin at the small of her back causing him to very nearly gasp. He'd been immediately pulled in by a bright white light—a life spark.
Lieutenant Uhura was with child.
"DON'T TOUCH ME!"
This was what she did not want him to know.
The world around him stilled. He was aware that the Captain had risen from his seat but it was as if the man were caught in a gravity well; his shouts came out as deep, overdrawn echoes and the rest of the command crew moved in the same stilted motion as they obeyed. Realizing that there were now two lives in his hands Spock broke with protocol and spun on his heel, bolting out the door into the lift while clutching her to his chest.
The whole episode took place in only 5.6 seconds.
Sprinting along, walls and crewmembers blurring together, Spock felt the light of both mother and child ebb and flow with each spasm. As he rounded the last corner he picked up on a tendril of Lieutenant Uhura's subconscious thoughts. The white light parted, revealing the red and orange-hued desert landscape of her youth. She twirled about, arms stretched over her head toward the light while she smiled and laughed. Slowing, she caught sight of him standing at attention some meters away and beckoned him to join her.
"Spokh!"
How his heart ached at the sight of that smile, the tinkle of her laugh. Even the sound of his name tripping off her tongue—his own mother had never been able to fully overcome her human accent and pronounce it quite right—and it made him hurt all the more knowing she would never be his.
The doors to sickbay flew open and Spock found Doctor McCoy on his comm., his team ready and waiting nearby.
"Tell me what we've got, Geoff!"
M'Benga looked to his tricorder as they moved as one entity across the room. "She's having another episode; I'm only reading trace amounts of anesthetic in her system."
"Dammit, Ny," the Doctor cursed. "Mackenzie, I need 50cc's…"
"She said she only needed 5 minutes. She looked fine, Bones! I figured what's the harm?"
"THE HARM," he raged into his communicator as his team scrambled and he reached for a hypospray, "Is that I ordered her on bed rest for a reason! Jesus, doesn't anyone listen to me anymore, or is the CMO just a figurehead on this ship?"
The kid wisely refrained from answering. Len knew if he should be pissed at anybody it should be Uhura for disobeying him in the first place but that didn't stop him from tearing into the Captain regardless. "What's her ETA?"
"Spock's got her. They should be…"
"They're here!" Geoff shouted. Hanging up abruptly he watched M'Benga run a tricorder over his friend. Spock stood with his wife in his arms looking as serious as a heart attack and the team guided them over en masse to a waiting biobed.
"Tell me what we've got, Geoff!"
"She's having another episode; I'm only reading trace amounts of anesthetic in her system."
"Dammit, Ny." If she didn't start slowin' down like he ordered her too… "Mackenzie, I need 50cc's…" McCoy looked down to the bed and stopped short. His patient wasn't there and everyone around him had their eyes trained on Spock. The Commander was still cradling Nyota in his arms and appeared to have no intention of relinquishing her.
I can't say that I blame him, Len thought with a gulp. A sense of foreboding stole over him as he slowly stepped toward the Commander. "Mr. Spock, you have to put her down so we can treat her."
"She is expecting," he answered robotically. Beside him he heard Wendy gasp and he had to stifle his own murmur of shock. Just how much had the hobgoblin discovered? Whatever he knew, his features betrayed nothing. "I must have your assurances that any course of treatment you embark on will not harm her or the child."
Taking another step forward Spock watched his every move like a hawk and McCoy swore he almost saw a grimace on the Vulcan's ordinarily blank face. "I give you my word I'll do everything in my power to help them both." His friend nodded but did not release her. "They're in good hands," he coaxed. "I swear I won't let anything happen."
If he didn't let go soon and if the spurt was bad enough the baby might do some serious damage to Nyota; that said it occurred to him he might have no choice but to treat her while Spock held on. He was about to order him up onto the biobed when he laid Uhura down so gently it made even his old, broken heart seize. How could she keep insisting that he was better off without her?
The Commander kept his gaze trained on her as he slowly backed away, becoming one with the wall so they could work.
"Mackenzie, I need 50cc's of bipurvicaine, stat."
U.S.S. Enterprise, Stardate 2261.102, 0210 hours. The sweat poured out of him—from the crown of his head to the tops of his feet—and dripped down into his eyes. Still Spock remained motionless, crouched in a defensive stance even as his vision blurred, until a flash of movement on his left caught his eye. Swiveling quickly on the ball of his foot he met his assailant head on and struck a hard blow across the chest, knocking the target down in one go. Another swooped in and he dove and rolled out of the way, popping up in the far corner of the room. Running full tilt he leapt in the air with a mighty roar and delivered a swift kick to the dummy's back.
He thought he detected movement to his right and turned to attack when the lights rose instead and the battlefield littered with bodies faded out of existence. "Simulation complete."
Spock straightened in the old, familiar posture. "Acknowleged."
He had arrived at the gym two hours earlier with the goal of finding a new means of counter-balancing his deteriorating mental and emotional state. Meditation was no longer a sufficient enough outlet for suppressing his thoughts and feelings for Lieutenant Uhura and the dreams were coming on more vividly with every evening.
Sitting in his office at the Academy, both reaching for the same PADD, the tips of his fingers brushing ever so lightly against the back of her hand sending sparks…
Standing behind her at a console in the simulation lab, leaning in to answer yet another question and resisting the urge to brush the loose hair away from her neck…
Walking across campus, her eyes and ears only for him despite the calls of her friends. Her dazzling white smile as she looked up into his face…how he ached to cup her cheek and trace the dimple that formed with his thumb…
The overwhelming emotions these visions dredged up lingered, despite the fact that the events themselves never occurred.
The knowledge that Lieutenant Uhura was now with child only cemented the reality of her marriage. Spock was peripherally aware that he had been planning to try and win her away from her spouse; it was reprehensible of him to even consider such a course of action and yet he had planned it all the same. With this latest revelation those plans changed. He would not break up her family—he would not be able to live with himself even if he succeeded—and so exercise became the last method available for purging all unrequited thoughts of her.
Spock happened upon the programs by chance that evening; apparently in his previous life he had programmed seventeen separate, simulated battles to be played out in the double decker arena of the gym, most likely for the same purpose with which he was employing them now. Reviewing his handiwork he wondered why he had continued to torture himself by remaining on-board, watching and working with her day after day, all the while knowing she was happily married to another. Spock told himself he stayed because it was beneficial to his career but that was not entirely true; even if there was no way he could ever be with the Lieutenant he no longer knew how to live without her presence.
His muscles ached pleasantly as he walked across the room for his water bottle and the burden he alone carried was momentarily assuaged. For the first time since discovering the true depth of his feelings for Lieutenant Uhura, Spock could think of her without being bowled over by his own inner turmoil.
"No."
"Len…"
"Don't 'Len' me, Ny. The answer's still no!"
"But I told you I'm sorry," she whined, following him around sickbay in the maternity uniform Christine brought her. The Doctor continued to ignore her as he stared at his PADD, filling out the paperwork for her release.
"And it's gonna take more than that for me to forgive you this time," came his quick retort. "You went AMA and passed out ON THE BRIDGE! Do you know what could've happened? They told me you almost cracked your skull open on the console and if they hadn't gotten you here as quickly as they did…!" He sighed and brushed his hair back, looking down hard into her face. Nyota stopped and swayed, finding it difficult to navigate now that her equilibrium was thrown off with her recently-added girth. McCoy instinctively reached out to steady her and his expression softened.
Nyota saw her opening. "Please?" she asked, batting her puppy dog eyes at him beseechingly.
His shoulders slumped. "Fifteen minutes," he grumbled softly.
"Thank you!" She reached up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek before spinning about toward the exit.
"You play dirty, you know that? You're worse than Kirk!"
She laughed. "Am not! And you love me because I'm nothing like him!"
"You two are going to be the death of me…"
Fifteen minutes; she had fifteen minutes to get back to her quarters and if she didn't answer his comm. when he paged Len would send out a search party to find her, dogs included (though how he planned to produce them was anybody's guess). If she set so much as one toe out of line from here on out he was going to lock her up in sickbay for the duration of her pregnancy—and she trusted him to do it too. Not relishing the prospect Nyota waddled along, enjoying her last minutes of freedom as she hurried back to her temporary quarters.
As she walked the stark hallways it dawned on her that it was the middle of ship's night. She'd been sedated so long her clock was all off which was why right now she had energy to burn. Looking down the hall she saw someone else had the same idea; the lights were dim but shining through the windows of the gym's observation arena and she wandered over to watch.
Her heart skipped a beat as Spock—barefoot, shirtless and sweating profusely—launched himself into the air only to transition into a defensive crouch at the last second and land on the balls of his feet. He was breathtakingly beautiful, always, but especially when he let loose like this. His alien strength and grace made him an awesome sight to behold and she appreciated the chance to openly admire his form.
His back was turned to her and as she studied the muscular planes and ridges, recalling the last time she'd held him close. They made love the night before he beamed down and she'd dug her nails into him mercilessly, causing Spock to shudder and thrust into her in an explosion of ecstasy that sent them both tumbling over the edge.
Heat pooled in her core just thinking about it.
She stood staring at him so long remembering what was that when he finally sprang into action again she squeaked in surprise. He'd sliced the previously unseen target once across the chest before jumping and rolling out of the way of a second one sneaking up from behind. With a great roar he flew through the air and his foot landed squarely on the target's back, knocking him down for the count and ending the simulation.
Nyota hustled along before he could catch her staring, knowing she would have to learn to content herself with these few stolen moments whenever she could.
U.S.S. Enterprise, Stardate 2261.105, 2036 hours. Kirk raised his glass and surveyed the rest of his friends seated around the table with a happy gleam in his eye. "To Uhura!" he cheered.
"To Uhura!" McCoy tipped back his glass without a second invitation while Sulu, Chekov and Scotty clinked mugs. Spock stared into his own drink disbelievingly before taking a sip; Jim wondered if it was because he was surprised that he knew he liked Guinness or because he had some stored expressly for him. As he resumed his seat Jim winced at the ache from the bruise in his forearm.
"Bones, are you sure you don't have…"
His friend was already pouring another three fingers of bourbon. "No."
"But it hurts!"
"Well then let that be a lesson to you next time you open your mouth without thinking."
"Come on, Doc," Sulu chimed in, "Can't you give him a little something?" Jim grinned before the pilot added, "Because it'd be so worth it to see Uhura haul off and slug him like that again." Kirk's face fell as the group chuckled.
"The Lieutenant hit you?" Spock asked.
Oh. Right. He hadn't been on the bridge when it all went down. He felt his cheeks grow hot.
"Da!" Chekov replied a little too enthusiastically. "The Lieutenant, she came onto the bridge and before anyone could say anything the Keptin said 'Vhoa Momma! Vhat did you do, svallow a basketball?' and then VHAM! She hit him!"
Remembering the moment vividly Jim rubbed his arm. "She doesn't pull her punches either," he mumbled.
"Lieutenant Uhura is a Starfleet officer; she has been trained never to 'pull her punches', nor should she have to."
"Aye," Scotty agreed as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, "I'd have punched you too, Cap'n, if'n it'd been me you wer sayin' that to."
Annoyed, Kirk tossed out the deck of cards and threw up his hands in defeat, wincing again as he jostled the bruise some more. "Alright, I get it, I had it comin'…now somebody deal!" Sulu grabbed the pack and shuffled as they all retreated to their steins.
"I wonder what she's havin'?" the engineer asked as a card was tossed in his direction. He looked to McCoy for a clue but got none while Chekov began calculating the odds under his breath. "It doesn't matter either way really; it'll be nice havin' a wee bairn toddlin' around the ship."
That remark got the Doctor's attention. "Spoken by someone who's clearly never had kids."
"None that he knows of, anyway," Sulu teased.
"Hey! Laddie, I'll have you know…"
"A starship is no place for a child," Spock interjected coolly. He examined his hand as the rest of the table gawked at his uncharacteristic outburst. "When we joined Starfleet we understood and accepted the fact that we would be placing our lives at risk yet we each went through with the decision to enlist. A child born aboard a starship, especially a ship such as the Enterprise, has made no such choice. To fall pregnant at this juncture in her life and career and without the support of her husband was a reckless action on the part of Lieutenant Uhura."
Everyone froze. He was calling his own child a mistake? Grasping futilely at the wheel to try and steer the conversation away Jim joked, "If I didn't know any better, Mr. Spock, I'd say you were demeaning my fair ship. The Enterprise is perfectly safe."
"To Uhura!"
His crewmates sat back, clinking glasses and chattering. Spock stared down at the dark black liquid, curious to know how the Captain came to learn of his fondness for Guinness. Every time Spock thought he understood what manner of man the Captain was he would display a new facet of his character that at turns baffled and intrigued him.
James T. Kirk was a man that refused to be classified.
"Bones,"—the manner in which the Doctor squirmed under this address secretly pleased Spock to no end—"Are you sure you don't have…"
Dr. McCoy freshened his drink, not sparing a glance at the pitiful whine coming from his superior officer. "No."
"But it hurts!"
"Well then let that be a lesson to you next time you open your mouth without thinking."
It was an interesting study, witnessing the two men banter with such ease and familiarity. Spock almost longed for a similar relationship for himself.
"Come on, Doc," Lt. Sulu said, "Can't you give him a little something? Because it'd be so worth it to see Uhura haul off and slug him like that again."
He very nearly betrayed his shock but managed to swallow down his drink without incident. This was twice now that he knew of of the Lieutenant being insubordinate, and while the Captain welcomed a certain degree of familiarity actually striking a superior officer was punishable by court martial and dishonorable discharge. Previously he had never known his former student to lay a hand upon anyone unless it was in self-defense. "The Lieutenant hit you?"
The Captain's face suddenly grew flush.
"Da!" The navigator hastened to reply. "The Lieutenant, she came onto the bridge and before anyone could say anything the Keptin said 'Vhoa Momma! Vhat did you do, svallow a basketball?' and then VHAM! She hit him!"
"She doesn't pull her punches either," Kirk uttered under his breath.
Incredibly he found himself defending her behavior. "Lieutenant Uhura is a Starfleet officer; she has been trained never to 'pull her punches', nor should she have to."
"Aye. I'd have punched you too, Cap'n, if'n it'd been me you wer sayin' that to."
Tensed and waiting, Spock watched Captain Kirk out of the corner of his eye as he tossed a deck of playing cards into the center of the table and threw up his hands. "Alright, I get it, I had it comin'…now somebody deal!"
Lieutenant Sulu grabbed the pack and Spock retreated to his Guinness to hide his relief. Talk quickly returned to speculation over Lieutenant Uhura's child.
"I wonder what she's havin'?" the Chief Engineer asked. When he rushed the Lieutenant to sickbay Spock was too preoccupied with keeping her and the child alive to determine the gender—and as they were all well aware of the 50-50 odds of the infant being of one sex or the other he refrained from answering. Picking up a card tossed in his direction he carefully considered his hand. "It doesn't matter either way really; it'll be nice havin' a wee bairn toddlin' around the ship."
"Spoken by someone who's clearly never had kids," Doctor McCoy muttered behind his cards.
"None that he knows of, anyway."
"Hey! Laddie, I'll have you know…"
"A starship is no place for a child," he interjected, surprised by the sound of his own voice. "When we joined Starfleet we understood and accepted the fact that we would be placing our lives at risk yet we each went through with the decision to enlist. A child born aboard a starship, especially a ship such as the Enterprise, has made no such choice. To fall pregnant at this juncture in her life and career and without the support of her husband was a reckless action on the part of Lieutenant Uhura."
His logic was sound and yet Spock was puzzled as to why he spoke about her in such a negative fashion. He knew as surely as he knew the first 100 decimal places of pi that the Lieutenant was not a rash person and would be the best possible mother a child could ever want or need—so why was he lambasting her life choices?
And why was he being so vocal about this position with his crewmates?
"If I didn't know any better, Mr. Spock, I'd say you were demeaning my fair ship. The Enterprise is perfectly safe," Captain Kirk said with a laugh. This was not a humorous discussion.
"Negative. In the last 2.96 years the ship has been involved in 87 separate altercations, a 31.3% increase over other starships of this class, which have resulted in 154 casualties. To expect to raise a child alone and in such a hostile environment is naïve of her at best." Spock placed two cards down on the tabletop, recalling a footnote he had read in the Captain's file. "You of all people, Captain, should understand the perils of being born in space."
Looking up across the table he heard the Doctor mutter a quiet "Easy, Jim" with the others looking back and forth at them nervously. He had said nothing untrue—so why did Spock feel so ugly for having said it?
He was horrified by what he was hearing; still, Sulu knew the Commander only said what he did because he was extremely concerned. Despite their excitement they were all worried about Uhura and the baby too.
After all, it's not as if their anxiety was without precedent.
He looked up to find Spock standing at ease just beyond the lab doors. "Hey Spock! How's Uhura?"
The Commander waited until Sulu approached to answer. "She is…improving."
His heart went out to them. There'd been rumors flying about since she got sick five days ago but nothing had been substantiated. Still, if what they were saying was true it would explain why his friend looked so lost.
"The Lieutenant insisted I vacate our quarters; I chose to stop and inquire if you are in need of any assistance."
Sulu grinned. "Sure. I can always use another pair of steady hands." He led him to the back of the lab, away from the other whispering botanists, and prepared to pull out a pair of work gloves.
"That is unnecessary."
He looked at Spock quizzically. "Are you sure?"
"Affirmative."
They worked side-by-side in silence for over an hour re-potting the specimens collected on Galleos III until Beta shift trickled out and they were the only ones left. Now that they were alone Spock sunk his hands wrist deep into the earth and kept them there a moment before settling the cactus-like plant in it's new home. It was an uncharacteristically human gesture.
"Lieutenant Uhura was with child," he finally admitted in a low voice.
Oh. So the rumors were true. "I grieve with thee." It was a phrase he'd had to utter too many times in the last 2-plus years…but the sentiment was never more true then today.
Spock nodded. "I find I am…conflicted."
Conflicted?
Wait, was he…?
"Spock, it's not that I don't want to help you but I'm not sure I'm the best person to talk to about this. Maybe the Doctor…"
"I seek unbiased, third party insight into the situation; this is something Doctor McCoy cannot currently provide. Your input in this matter is important as not only is your discretion assured but your judgment is also sound."
That was high praise coming from him. Hoping to live up to the Commander's expectations Sulu nodded and waited for him to continue.
"The dangers to Lieutenant Uhura's physical well-being should she conceive again are numerous. She could suffer from any number or combination of the following ailments: gestational diabetes, copper poisoning, placenta previa, placental abruption, pre-eclampsia…" The list was dizzying and only served to make him more doubtful he should be giving any sort of advice. "This pregnancy was ectopic. Had she remained oblivious to her condition and left it untreated the Doctor concurs she would have bled out within hours."
Ignoring his gasp of shock Spock carried on. "Now is neither the time nor the place for us to be having a child. The Enterprise is not only an unsuitable environment for such an endeavor but having a child would necessitate Lieutenant Uhura take the focus away from her career. Such a move would be unwise."
Sulu took the information in then asked the question that'd been uppermost in his mind since this whole talk began. "If you don't mind my asking, if now's not a good time and you two aren't ready then why didn't you get your boosters?"
Spock shifted away, his head hung low. "We were—unaware—that natural conception was a viable option given my hybrid parentage."
The notion sent his head reeling; first learning that Uhura almost died, then discovering that Spock thought he was sterile. He officially knew more about the Commander than he ever wanted to.
"In spite of recent events I am under the apprehension that it is her desire to attempt to procreate again." He made the prospect sound so off-putting that even he was momentarily loathe to consider 'procreating'—ever.
"Well what do you think about that?"
"The chances that she will suffer…"
"You've already told me about the risks," Sulu cut him off. "Tell me what you think about Uhura wanting to try again for another baby." The Vulcan stiffened beside him and remained conspicuously quiet—it was very telling.
"Ok. Do you want to know what I think? I think that you love her and that you'd do anything to protect her…and for a man that doesn't like to admit to feelings seeing her hurt right now and knowing you could lose her again in the future if you do this is scaring the hell out of you."
A pair of soulful brown eyes stared back at him, the fear palpable in their depths. "I will not lose her."
"You're right, because everything you've told me so far says that while another pregnancy might be dangerous it wouldn't be impossible, right? After all, you're living proof that Vulcans and humans can have kids. Plus there's the chance that she could have a problem-free pregnancy."
"The VSA scientists responsible for my…"
Now that was a story he really didn't want to hear. "Spock, just tell me, what if she got pregnant again? What would you do?"
"I will not allow for that possibility to occur."
He frowned at the Commander's certainty. "Right. Well, let's forget for a minute that you 'won't allow it'. Stuff happens. IF Uhura got pregnant again, what would you do?" Sulu waited a beat but no answer was forthcoming. Faking nonchalance he turned back to his potting. "Maybe you'd divorce her? After all, I mean, it would be her fault. I don't think I've ever heard of Vulcans divorcing but hey, you could be the first. Either way it's her problem, right? I mean, she's the one that allowed herself to get knocked up in the first place…"
A snarl came from his right. Sparing a glance at the Commander he saw the second-ever expression on Spock's face; brows drawn tight, lips curled in a sinister sneer, hands clenched so hard they cracked the terra cotta. The look said that if he were any other man he'd kill Sulu for even suggesting such a blasphemous thing and Hikaru gulped hard hoping he wasn't quaking like a leaf. Perhaps he had pushed him just a little too far… "Right…so I'm going to ask you again; if Lieutenant Uhura got pregnant—planned or unplanned, shipboard or planet-side, now or in five, ten, or fifteen years—what would you do?"
Spock relaxed but still didn't answer, only this time he didn't have to. They both knew he'd move Heaven and Earth for Nyota if it kept her happy and safe; Sulu also knew that the shock of learning he could have a child had awakened the desire in him just as much as it had in his wife, only he refused to admit as much out of fear for her health. Sulu grinned, glad to have averted disaster and knowing he'd helped the Commander.
If Spock and Uhura ever had a daughter though G-d help any boy that tried to date her…
"Who says he isn't supporting her?"
All eyes turned in his direction. "Come again, Sulu?" Jim asked hotly. McCoy still had a hand on his arm as if he wasn't quite sure the Captain wouldn't jump out of his chair and beat his First Officer senseless. He certainly looked like he still wanted to. Spock also turned to face him, intrigued.
Sulu gulped hard, knowing he was treading on thin ice yet again. "Well, I just think that Uhura does have her husband's support. Maybe he wants to be here but can't for one reason or another," his eyes darted around the table, quickly catching and releasing the Commander's piercing gaze, "And maybe he's just as excited about the kid as we are—more really—but he's worried too; scared out of his mind even.
"I mean, look at everything that's just happened to land her in sickbay and all. And maybe the timing isn't great but kids come when they come and I think we all know there's no such thing as perfect timing." He put his cards down and looked them all square in the eye. "He's probably out there right now freaking out because he can't be here, and as happy as he is about having a kid he's probably scared shitless at the very real possibility of losing her."
No one spoke but Sulu saw the Captain's stance soften. Everyone tried to gauge whether his little speech had any effect on Spock but the Commander's expression never wavered.
"Your judgment is sound. Perhaps if Lieutenant Uhura's husband were returned to the Enterprise he would be able to assist her in maintaining her health and rearing the child; thenthe situation would not appear so dire."
Hikaru caught the Doctor frowning while the Captain merely grimaced over the top of his glass. "Believe me, Mr. Spock, we all want him back…and we're trying everything we can think of to make that happen."
U.S.S. Enterprise, Stardate 2261.105, 2312 hours. Jim put away the poker chips and washed the dirty mugs, leaving them to dry on the rack beside the sink before turning back to the room. Looking at the table he couldn't help but picture Spock sitting ramrod straight in his seat, holding his cards and looking as placid as could be.
"A starship is no place for a child… To fall pregnant at this juncture…was a reckless action…In the last 2.96 years the ship has been involved in 87 separate altercations…which have resulted in 154 casualties. To expect to raise a child alone and in such a hostile environment is naïve of her at best."
He got Sulu's message too, loud and clear—even without knowing he was both the husband and father-to-be Spock was still scared for Uhura and the dangers she faced—but the whole conversation still irked him something awful.
"You of all people, Captain, should understand the perils of being born in space."
Yeah he did; he really, really did…which was why it was high time he did something about this whole G-dawful mess. Nyota needed to be made to see reason. Bones wasn't any closer to finding a cure and, good as he was, there was no guarantee he'd ever find one by the time she was ready to give birth. What did she expect to happen then? That Spock would see the kid with his pointed ears and ignore the obvious? His First Officer was many things but stupid wasn't one of them; the same could also be said for his Chief Communications Officer.
So why were they both acting like idiots?
The phrase 'Love has its reasons that Reason knows not', suddenly sprang to mind.
Huh—guess that Pascal fella was onto something.
Acting on impulse he headed for her room, stopping mid-way down the corridor and looking around. He had the feeling he was being watched but the hall was empty. Knocking on her door he felt like a nervous kid picking up his first date and only when Uhura answered with her robe cinched tight around her belly did he realize the late hour.
This baby—this baby was coming whether they were ready for it or not. This conversation couldn't wait any longer.
He was certain he had never been so circumspect in his previous life. Cursing his condition Spock re-traced his steps to the Captain's quarters so they could review aspects of their upcoming mission as he had intended to do at the evening's conclusion. He was very nearly there when he heard the Captain exit, pause once in the middle of the floor, then stride off in the opposite direction. Instead of calling out to him Spock followed at a discreet distance to see where he was headed at such a late hour.
And follow him he did—one floor up to the ambassadorial and guest quarters which were currently unoccupied. Curious to learn what he was doing Spock stopped and listened as the Captain rapped at one of the doors. A pair of soft footsteps shuffled forward.
"Captain."
He would recognize that voice anywhere. The previously unknown occupant was none other than Lieutenant Uhura.
"Oh hell, I'm sorry, I forgot it was so late. Can we talk, please? In private? It won't take long."
She hesitated a moment before allowing him to pass, the closing door ending all chances of his catching the rest of their conversation.
The revelation gave Spock new evidence toward unraveling the identity of her absentee husband. If she was quartered in the ambassadorial suites rather than the officer's billet than her spouse was most likely a high-ranking Starfleet official, quite possibly even an attaché. No wonder then that he was not currently aboard the Enterprise. Spock understood well; his own father had often spent several weeks and months at a time away from his family in the course of his diplomatic service.
Or perhaps…
The Commander shook his head. The Uhura he had known had more integrity than that. She would never stoop so low as to become a Captain's mistress.
Even if her relationship with Kirk was highly unconventional.
"But you agreed. You promised."
She paced before him, arms crossed over her belly.
Jim nodded. "I know but I don't think it's in his best interest to keep him in the dark anymore."
"You can't do that!"
"With all due respect, Lieutenant, I can."
Nyota stopped and stared. If Kirk was pulling rank he was serious and she couldn't let him unravel things now. Spock was in a good place, she could handle this for their sake, just… "Please," she pleaded. "Don't."
The Captain sighed and hung his head. "This is an impossible position…you know that, right?" Did he not see how she struggled through each shift to do what was right for Spock? "And you know I don't like no-win scenarios."
She stepped over and placed a hand on his shoulder, almost as if in benediction. "I have faith in you; you and Len and Spock." With a wan smile and false cheer she added, "Try 39 is bound to work, right?"
He looked up at her with those eyes—sky blue but with the depth of oceans—only this time instead of overwhelming confidence they were full of skepticism. "Well maybe this time your faith's unfounded." Jim jumped up and strode to the window, turning his back on her to watch the stars race by. "Nothing's working. Bones is grasping at straws and I hate to say it but I'm out of ideas too. And have you even thought about what you'll do after the kid's born?" The intensity in his gaze when he looked at her again was frightening. "What'll you tell Spock then? Or are you hoping he'll overlook the pointed ears and slanted brows? Maybe he'll deny it right up until the day the kid starts saying 'logic'."
Truth be told she had considered the possibility of what she might do when the baby was born; she'd considered it a thousand times, and each time she came back with an unsatisfactory answer. Each night she prayed that it wouldn't come to that.
Sighing, he folded his arms across his chest and turned around. "Ny, don't you think it'll be more of a shock for him when he sees his name on the birth certificate?"
"I'd tell him before it came to that…"
"Would you? Would you really? Because this kid needs a father just as much as a mother!"
James T. Kirk was many things but he was not one to raise his voice in anger, especially to a friend. Nyota froze in the middle of the room and stared at him hard trying to figure out what really brought this spate of doubt on. "Jim?"
"'You of all people should understand the perils of being born in space.'"
Oh. Oh no. She recognized the Spock speak straight away. "Jim, he didn't mean it…"
"I know that," he said brusquely, brushing her hand aside. She didn't believe him and judging by his closed off body language neither did he. "But that doesn't change facts. This baby is going to have aunts and uncles aplenty but he or she is also going to need both parents—I can't stress that enough."
She reached forward and clasped his hands in both of hers. "And he—or she—will have that; Spock just needs a little more time."
We all just need more time…I hope…
A/N 2: Hi all. I'll keep this brief. I quit my job recently and am going back to school; I was supposed to be out celebrating with friends tonight and things took a turn for the unexpected/unpleasant. I'm ok now (my friends are ok), but let's just say that it's all left me quite shaken. With that said I know I have some people that simply HATE the plot of this story...and while I've appreciated the constructive criticism and respected their opinions I am in no mood to entertain any more of it right now. So please, if you don't have anything nice to say just don't say it at all. Next chapter you may feel free to unload but right now...right now just please keep it to yourself. I'm sorry and thanks for your understanding. ~Wahoogal
