Twenty-Eight:
Unmodified Bones
She was staring. She wasn't sure where she was staring, but she was staring. Her mind was elsewhere. It traveled to her childhood. To stories her father used to tell her on Onofrio when she couldn't sleep. Her mother helped sometimes when she was still alive. That made more sense. After her mother died Phiora's family was on Earth so many times and for so long they just about lived there.
The stories. They'd usually be about early childhood with the twins. Sometimes they'd be about other things, like why Onofrio keeps gaining and losing a moon. That was the one she wanted to hear the most.
"Every year," Zielli would say as he and Phiora stretched out on the rug on the floor of the family room, "our big moon, Comu, has a baby moon. The baby moon grows up and goes away. Then the big moon has another baby moon. A year later, the baby moon goes away. The cycle continues."
She believed that until after her mother died. Then she and Jim were talking one day on the first Earth trip since the incident and the subject came upon Onofrio's moons. She told the story word for word, which really wasn't hard now that she thought about it; the story was only a few words long. But Jim, not knowing the significance of the story, merely shook his head.
"The littlest moon doesn't disappear. The bigger one blocks it from sight because their orbits match exactly for a short time. In fact, the littlest moon is called Tour."
That realization crushed Phiora. For years after that she thought of Tour as a coward moon. Constantly hiding behind Comu like the child she always thought it was. Then years went by, and she stopped thinking of Comu and Tour altogether. She didn't care.
"Phiora...."
Her mind returned to the Enterprise in time for her to see Bones standing beside her, holding out a handkerchief. A second later she knew why.
Wiping the tears off her face and out of her eyes, Phiora smiled sadly. "Sorry. I was thinking about something that has nothing to do with anything." She sniffed. "So I'm pregnant, huh?" she asked into her lap, fiddling with the cloth.
Bones nodded and sat on the side of the bed. He heaved a hearty sigh. "You're a little ways over a month along." He really didn't want to say it. "You might have to make up your mind on your own, you know, in case...."
He didn't finish, and fortunately for them both she knew where that was going. Yet he saw the sadness trapped behind her eyes, and he sighed again.
"Why don't you wait 'til he gets back so you two can talk it out," he said. It wasn't a question. He patted her knee firmly. "Unfortunately I have to lecture you on ways to go about every option you have, so get comfortable."
To her own surprise, Phiora heard every word of that lecture.
Bones walked into Phiora's private room in the sickbay an hour and a half later. "Wanna know something weird?" She didn't answer, so he continued. "Jim just transferred visual contact with Spock down here to my portable vidcom," he told her, handing her the device. "Well, obviously Jim didn't do it himself, but at any rate, the line is private, and I'll leave so you can...talk." He raised his eyebrows, then left the room, closing the door behind him.
Taking that to mean the line was open now, she opened the vidcom and couldn't help the broad smile that conquered her face when she saw Spock. He looked just as fine as he said he was.
"I would extend the Vulcan kiss, but I do not believe I can fit my fingers through the printer."
And Phiora knew everything was okay. She knew in her heart and mind that Spock was going to come back. When, she didn't know, but he was going to be back.
Now to approach the other thing.
"That's okay, Spock. Seeing you is good enough for me right now."
Spock sensed the unease in her voice. "Phiora, something is troubling you. Is it the dispute we had before I was beamed onto this ship?"
Phiora shook her head slightly. "No."
"Then what is it? Your demeanor is worrying me."
She smiled a tiny bit. "You're becoming more and more human, you know that?"
"Your methods of evasion are proving to be unsuccessful and mildly offensive."
"I'm not evading...I'm only trying to decide whether to tell you now or in person."
"Tell me what? Are you ill?" She half-expected him to grab the monitor and start shaking it, even though his voice was still its usual, even baritone. That'd be a sight. "You do not need to hide anything from me, Phiora. I have been left alone for a time to make this call."
He might have spontaneously combusted if she didn't. "I'm trying to figure out how to tell you I'm pregnant."
The silence that followed almost seemed to Phiora like a giant lance that skewered right through Spock's chest. She noticed with some perverse amusement that the imaginary lance went through his chest to purposefully avoid his heart.
"That technique seemed efficient," he almost gasped. His eyes widened, and he looked away from the screen, the wires in his brain connecting and shorting out and reconnecting and sparking as he fought and fought against the instinct he'd unintentionally been developing to display emotion without further thought. There was a line to draw, after all. "You are...with child," he murmured slowly, as if trying to get it perfectly clear. "Undoubtedly...from one of our sessions of sexual relations."
Phiora narrowed her eyes at that phrasing. "Yes," she said carefully. "Doctor McCoy said I'm a little over a month along. Which would mean the conception was on Beylon. In the medical edifice." She paused. "Where we used nothing."
Spock suddenly seemed to be holding his breath, and he stared at her through the screen, rather as if he wasn't sure what to do with himself now. He seemed to understand that she wasn't saying he was at fault, but merely informing him of their mistake as a whole. His eyes darted to a place beyond the screen, as if someone just joined him in the room.
"I am needed elsewhere," he said finally after a few bizarre seconds of him just...watching something beyond the screen.
Phiora nodded slowly. "Alright. Spock," she said, just before he turned the vidcom off. "I love you."
He mouthed it back, but didn't say it aloud. He then turned off his vidcom.
After a moment of contemplation, Phiora got up to return the vidcom she had to Bones.
When she entered his office, he was gnawing on a carrot and looking at something on his computer terminal. He looked relaxed—his boot-clad feet were propped up on the desk and he was carefully yet absent-mindedly swiveling in his chair as much as his outstretched legs would allow. He saw her and grinned, letting his feet fall to the ground.
"Thanks," he said, taking the vidcom. "Hungry?" he asked, motioning to the plate of mainly Onofrian food sitting evocatively on the desk, cautiously away from where his feet had been propped up. "I figured you'd want a little bit of home right now."
Whether it was genetics or hormones, Phiora wasn't sure, but those tears just popped up and she smiled gratefully at this truly selfless gesture.
"Hey now," Bones said softly, standing up and leaning over to take her arm and usher her into the chair in front of the food. "None of that." He smiled and replaced himself in his own chair. His smile grew when she did, in fact, start eating. "Good. As a doctor I was worried about your appetite. You're not exactly eating for yourself anymore."
"You like Spock now, right?"
Bones quite cleverly stopped the bit of carrot he almost inhaled from entering his lungs, then discreetly coughed it into the right tube. He cleared his throat. "Well...it's not as if I ever disliked him, necessarily. Why d'you ask?"
Phiora shrugged as she speared a tomato slice with her fork. "You two seem like you can tolerate each other more. Just something I noticed."
The doctor chewed thoughtfully. "I s'pose I've gotta get used to the guy now. Hell, I told myself that a year ago." He was quiet for a moment. "Did you tell him?"
Phiora nodded but didn't meet his eyes. "I did. I think it really startled him."
"Well, I guess I don't have to remind you...."
"Children born out of wedlock are unheard of within the Vulcan culture. I know." She stabbed another tomato slice a little harder than she intended. "But then again, we're the first and only Vulcan-Onofrian couple to exist." She stared at the fruit that occupied the fork. "And he's half human."
Her voice had gotten so quiet by the end that Bones had to lean forward a bit to hear her. "All of that is also true," he said lamely.
"Am I making his life worse?"
Bones had to truly gape at her before processing what she asked. What threw him farther, though, was the expression on her face. She really expected an answer.
What broke off during that throw was the honest answer he gave her.
"In some respects. Culturally. But I think he's willing to finally tell that small, isolated area of Vulcan culture to shove it and where shoving would be most logical." He winked at her. "Don't go thinking he's rejecting all of Vulcan culture, either. That's definitely not something to worry about.
"Now to answer that question on a personal standpoint." He folded his hands. "He loves you. If you're making his life worse, it's only because he holds that much emotion for you. Frankly, I'd do all sorts of fancy tricks in front of a whole lineup of Starfleet admirals for that kind of misery. Yes, Vulcans are different. It may be doing something to him. But I can tell you right now as a doctor, a friend, and an observer, that he will get used to his love for you and be comfortable with it. Truth be told, I wasn't sure a baby was going to make that go any faster. But if he took the time to let that information simmer around that massive noggin of his as opposed to bolting, then that shows he'll more than likely be willing to give it a shot."
Phiora smiled warmly and continued eating. Then she stopped.
"Were you listening to us?"
Bones propped his feet up again, away from Phiora and her food. "What? No." He looked a little too offended. "I wouldn't do that. I don't do that."
Phiora shook her head, smirking.
