A/N: Thank you to all who have reviewed! I'm sorry it took so long to update but I've been having computer issues (and yes, it sucks).
Now keep in mind that there are allusions to adult situations in this chapter-nothing hard or over and I think it's within the T rating but I wanted to let people know all the same; so read at your own risk and consider yourselves warned!
Chapter 8
U.S.S. Enterprise, Stardate 2261.95, 0024 hours. He was terrified—absolutely, without a doubt, utterly terrified—a sensation that was as new to him and as it was unwelcome. Spock knew he was able and willing to assist but his aid was not needed.
No, that was incorrect. His aid was not wanted.
But as much as that knowledge stirred up the old hurts what Spock wanted more than anything else was to take the Lieutenant's pain away.
"Look, all it means is that we've found 38 ways how not to jumpstart his neurotransmitters. This doesn't mean we're giving up, Ny; none of us are. All it means is that attempt 39 is bound to work. You'll see."
And with that disheartening news the Doctor went back to his lab. It was all well and good for Len to stay optimistic; he didn't have to work side-by-side with Spock or carry his child…and while she knew it wasn't healthy the only outlet Nyota had was to go back and throw herself into her work.
In addition to shifts on the bridge and the work in her lab she also invested more time in her other ship-board pursuits. There was the weekly knitting club, rehearsals with the ship's choir, weeding in the botany lab, reading for the monthly book club, a random game of checkers or boggle in the various Recs… These were activities she always enjoyed, especially when she needed to unwind after a crazy day or if Spock was working late on one of his experiments, but now they were her only refuge. If she had any spare time then she'd start thinking about him—about the way they were now and the way they were then—and G-d only knows what her raging hormones would make her do after that.
Soon, however, she wouldn't be able to ignore their relationship anymore, or her condition. Her stomach was growing daily and it was only a matter of time before she'd need a maternity uniform. She may have put up a good front but Nyota wasn't sure she could raise their baby on her own.
Despite all that weighing on her mind tonight had been a good night; she was thoroughly exhausted from choir rehearsal and the gossip afterward and once she put away the last of the folding chairs she could head straight to bed and pass out 'til Alpha shift. She'd successfully survived another day and lately that was all she dared to hope for.
Scooping up the music books Nyota started singing one of the pieces they'd been practicing just to break up the stillness. "I'll be seeing you, in all the old familiar places, that this heart of mine embraces…ACH!" Her gut exploded and the books scattered on the ground as she doubled over, desperately clutching the wall to keep herself from falling. The pain was worse than anything she'd ever felt in her life and left her trembling so hard her knees were knocking.
What WAS that? was all she had time to think before another blow, this time from high up near her rib cage, was dealt. Nyota bit down on her lower lip so hard she tasted blood. Either her body was spontaneously combusting from the inside or she was having another miscarriage…
NO!
Was she really losing their baby? At this stage in the pregnancy it was uncommon but not completely unheard of. Nyota sucked in a breath as the stars swum in her eyes. As much as she'd tried to ignore everything over the last few weeks this child was her last little piece of Spock…
She started to whimper and hobbled along toward the turbolift, desperate to reach sickbay.
His midnight walks had become part of his routine as much as the extended meditation. Spock also found that his nightly strolls made him feel more connected to the ship—not the crew, per say, though that no longer bothered him as much as it once did. There were people aboard the Enterprise whose company he found tolerable and whom he preferred more than others. The Chief Engineer was one. Ensign Chekov and Lieutenant Sulu as well. The Captain he was generally ambivalent towards, though he found the man intriguing—a puzzle, if you will.
The Doctor he decidedly did not like.
Lieutenant Uhura…well, his relationship with her was rather ambiguous at the moment. Perhaps now that their diplomatic mission was concluded he might have a better chance of defining their interpersonal interactions than he had had time to previously.
Yes, that would be satisfactory.
From far down the hall he heard the faint sound of singing and realized it was the Lieutenant. It was unusual for anyone to still be up at this hour, especially in this part of the ship; normally this area was all but abandoned in the evening which was why he preferred walking here in the first place. However, knowing her as he did she must have her reasons for remaining on this deck; she never did anything without a purpose. Spock wondered if she would appreciate his company.
"…that this heart of mine embraces—ACH!"
He dashed forward at the sound of her distress and found her clutching the wall with a trail of music books strewn out behind her.
"Lieutenant." She looked up at him with large, frightened, brown eyes full of unshed tears and he swallowed down the panic that billowed up within him. "Allow me to assist you."
"No, it's alright." Pulling herself more upright she forced a smile on her wan face. "I'm fine, see?"
Scanning her closely he watched how her legs trembled with the effort. "Fine has variable definitions, none of which apply to you and your current circumstances. It is only logical you allow me to assist you." Spock stepped forward to help support her and she stumbled back.
"No."
"No?" Why was she refusing his offer of aid? Had he not just said that such a refusal was illogical?
Her glance darted from his outstretched hands to his face and back again. "Please don't touch…AHHH!" She crumpled again, her knees hitting the floor hard, and the suddenness and severity of her pain made his eyes nearly bulge out of his head.
It was clear that Lieutenant Uhura was in need of immediate medical attention. She would be wise to allow him to carry her to sickbay, but he could not violate her personal space when she had so expressly forbidden it—though he was not above arguing with her to make her see reason. She was on her hands and knees now, her hair dark hair plastered to her forehead and her breathing labored.
"Lieutenant, you must desist in this beha—…"
"I SAID DON'T TOUCH ME!" The force of her shout sent him stepping back several paces as if she had physically assaulted him. Inwardly it felt as if she had. "McCoy," she panted. "Call McCoy."
Spock flipped open his communicator, his eyes never leaving her drawn face.
"ARGH!"
Len tumbled to the floor, sheets wrapped around his legs, the emergency page rousing him out of a rare, sound sleep. All he could think of as he grappled for the device was that someone better be dying or else they soon would be…
"Yeah?" he muttered groggily.
"Doctor McCoy." Oh great, the hobgoblin. Just what I need, a midnight house call with the elf…
"Go ahead, Commander."
"I am on Deck 16, approximately 3.4 meters from Recreation Room 10 with Lieutenant Uhura. She requires immediate medical aid."
Damn. That got him up on his feet in a hurry and he cast about looking for a shirt to throw over his head. "Can you get her to sickbay?"
"Negative. She is refusing my assistance."
"Damn stubborn, foolish woman. Alright, I'm on my way." Clicking over to the emergency channel he paged the night staff to warn them then switched over to the transporter room.
"Aye, Scott here."
Oh hell, McCoy thought as he smacked his forehead. First he couldn't find his shoes and now this. If Scotty had those damn scramblers off-line for some new-fangled upgrade than he was going to kick his ass into the middle of next week, do no harm or not. "Emergency Medical Transport, Mr. Scott. Deck 16, as close as you can get us to Rec Room 10."
He heard a loud thud and a hiss as the engineer scurried about. "I'm gettin' a read on ye. 3…2…1…"
The dark confines of his room ghosted away and were replaced by the over-bright lights of Deck 16. Len paused only a moment as his stomach struggled to catch up before seeing Nyota on all fours on the ground. Racing to her side he dropped to his knees in front of her with Nurses Hoichi and Gerard right behind him with the backboard and medkits.
"I SAID DON'T TOUCH ME!"
Her own eyes were blurred with unshed tears but there was no mistaking the hurt she saw in Spock's face—and knowing that she'd done that to him when all she wanted to do was spare him pain made Nyota feel lower than dirt; but she didn't trust her shields right now, not when she was hurting this much, and if he so much as glimpsed the truth this way...
Not for the first time she found herself wondering if this was the universe's way of setting right a wrong. After all, in another timeline their relationship never went beyond simple friendship. What if his amnesia was just this timeline's way of fixing everything? If it ultimately made him happier than she could live with that—or learn to live with that. She'd find a way.
Still there was so much she wanted to say, least of all apologize for her panicked screams, but the sharp twist in her gut prevented it. "McCoy," she whispered. "Call McCoy."
He whipped out his communicator but she never heard him speak—the world around her was deathly quiet and all she could focus on was the fire tearing through her body. Spock stood at attention a half meter away, his eyes never leaving hers and his hands clasped firmly behind his back. Nyota didn't know if she wanted to thank him for his consideration or scream. Seconds passed in quiet fury and black spots replaced the stars in her vision. If she passed out before Len got here Spock would have no choice but to help her and she'd be powerless to stop him.
The swirl of transporter lights just beyond his shoulder caught her gaze.
"You came," she whispered, a sad smile crossing her face. Carefully he brushed the hair out of her eyes and took her pulse. Her heart was racing.
"Of course I came! I wouldn't scramble my molecules for just anybody, Darlin'."
She looked about ready to add something to that when another gasp was wrenched from her lips and her whole body tensed. Worriedly, he looked over to Hoichi holding the scanner but the man shook his head. She's not losin' the baby, that's good, but then what's goin' on?
He was about to order his team to roll her onto the backboard so they could hurry to sickbay and find out. "You're not wearing any shoes," she blurted out.
Len chuckled and looked down at his hairy feet. Of course she'd notice that at a time like this. "Well that's because there wasn't any time…you're an important case. Just be grateful I wore pants to bed or I'd be here in nothin' but my skivvies." Seeing her smile a little more warmly helped ease his own panic. "Now, care to tell me what's the matter?"
"I…don't…know…" she lied, wincing and grabbing his arm; her iron-clad grip almost made him grimace. He knew she was trying to keep her secret just a little while longer and he hastened to reassure her that the baby was well.
"It's going to be alright."
She nodded and relaxed as he and Gerard helped ease her onto the backboard and strapped her in for the ride to sickbay. All four of them raced off without another word, leaving a stunned Vulcan Commander in their wake.
U.S.S. Enterprise, Stardate 2261.96, 0448. He sat on a couch reading a technical PADD, idly stroking a cool object perched in his lap. Examining it further he saw he was caressing a lovely, slender, brown foot. His eyes followed the accompanying leg and Spock discovered Lieutenant Uhura resting at the other end, her back pressed against the armrest and her own work in hand.
She was dressed in tan shorts and a plain t-shirt and appeared very much at ease in his company; more importantly she was not the least bit put off by his touch. Deciding to take leave of his senses he pressed his advantage and laid his palm down where ankle met calf, sending her a short burst of affectionate, sexually-tinged thoughts.
"Mmmm." She shifted her free leg and continued to moan invitingly, making his lok* twitch. 2.1 minutes later he utilized this ploy again and studied her reaction. Her heart beat faster, her temperature rose and her scent now pleasantly filled his nostrils.
Yawning, she stretched and withdrew her feet, making him almost sigh at the loss. She was fatigued then. He would let her rest.
Slowly he became aware of her weight shifting on the sofa and turned to see her crawling forward until she was able to straddle his lap. Spock was further surprised when she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a long, passionate kiss. He kissed back just as fully, pulling her closer so that their chests were flush and he could feel her heart racing beneath her shirt.
"Come to bed, Spock."
His lok tenting his pants he needed no further inducement and her half-veiled eyes flew open as he leapt up off the couch and carried her away. Leaning down to nuzzle her neck she raked her fingers through his hair, occasionally tweaking the tips of his ears so that rational thought was nigh near impossible.
"Mine!"
Spock awoke alone, the snarl dying on his lips, his sheets torn and his lok swollen and straining between his legs.
It had been a dream—nothing more than a dream.
Cursing this quirk of his physiology he rose and tore the ruined bedding off in one swift motion, discarding it in the trash all while the echo of 'Mine!' reverberated in his head.
Lieutenant Uhura was married. She was not his to have, nor did she want him, let alone have his friendship. Re-examining her recent behavior could not have made that fact more clear.
"Commander, I am not avoiding you. There is nothing to avoid."
"If you are suggesting that I am shunning you socially…"
"I SAID DON'T TOUCH ME!"
Those thoughts did more for him than a cold shower ever could.
He had returned to his quarters several hours ago in a highly agitated state. Spock had been distressed by the amount of pain the Lieutenant was in and perturbed and confused by her actions. Her attitude and his frame of mind initiated the chain of events that followed and at least partially explained why she had been the focus of his dream.
But why such a mundane setting? And why the reversal in her attitude? Was he trying to remember her as she was or impose on her what he wanted her to be? That thought brought with it another curious question.
What did he want her to be?
Thinking back on the vision he recalled the intimate, skin-to-skin contact, the kisses, the longing…
MINE!
Spock's eyes snapped open.
He had amorous designs on Lieutenant Uhura. Serious ones.
The notion was nearly unfathomable. He had always admired her intelligence and was aware even when they were still at the Academy that she possessed a maturity and poise well beyond her human years. Her…physical fitness…too…was not lost on him. In fact, he thought the last 3.89 years serving aboard the Enterprise had only served to enhance all of her natural qualities.
So when had his regard for her changed? Surely not while they were still in San Francisco; there was the impropriety alone to consider, not to mention the damage that could have been done to his career if it ever came to light. Yet Spock was acutely aware that these—feelings—had not simply arisen overnight. They had taken time to develop, possibly years.
Another thought sent a shock through his already overloaded system. Had he—prior to the incident on Anguillida—made his intentions toward her known? If he had done so while the Lieutenant was married or even betrothed than he could not fault her for her scorn.
Looking down at his lap Spock saw his hands trembling; he had been both unaware of the sensation and was now unable to halt it. He had 2.25 hours left before he was expected on shift and yet there was no way he could function on the bridge in this state. Walking over to the terminal he called up the duty roster and contacted a subordinate to replace him, then returned to the mat and lit a match for his firepot. The primal urge to mark and mate swelled up within him even as he fought mightily to tamp it down.
This will not do. Lieutenant Uhura is married.
This. Will. Not. Do.
He would master these emotions. He was above succumbing to their whims unlike his human colleagues. He was Vulcan. These—feelings—for her would pass.
They would.
They had to, or else he would need to transfer ships to escape her pull.
U.S.S. Enterprise, Stardate 2261.97, 1515 hours. Nyota sat before her comm. screen, shawl draped around her shoulders, and sighed before pressing the button. Her father-in-law's imposing image sprung up moments later. "Greetings, sa-mekh**."
"Ko-fu***."
The one word left her feeling suitably chastised and she watched with downcast eyes as he took in her radically changed form. Before she'd managed to hide her pregnancy by sitting with a PADD in her lap or by making the view-screen smaller. Now there was no taking it back; Sarek knew all.
"The damn VSA scientists withheld everything!" Len ranted after she'd been stabilized and awake for more than five minutes at a stretch. He and his team had had to sedate her for over a day as they tried to figure out what was wrong. There was nothing in the medical journals McCoy had at his disposal and with his hands tied he'd turned to the last person she wanted involved—Spock's father.
"They didn't think it was important," the Doctor continued, his drawl thickening as he growled, "To note the extreme intra-uterine development in the hybrid pregnancy that lasted 10-14 days! How in the world is that NOT important? Ambassador Sarek said they almost lost Spock AND Lady Amanda because no one knew that would happen, and yet they didn't think it was SIGNIFICANT enough after the fact to put it in their papers…for crying out loud! What the hell else d'ya think they left out?"
She wondered that as well as she idly rubbed her belly.
"I should have been informed. It was your duty as a member of this clan to notify us of a viable pregnancy."
Sarek's deep intonation quickly brought her back to the present and she fiddled with the end of her shawl. "I was going to, soon, I was just waiting…"
"Spock needs be informed as well."
Nyota quietly seethed. She knew she'd been wrong not to tell Sarek and she was grateful to him for saving both their lives but that didn't mean he had any right to dictate how they were lived from here on out. "Look, Sarek…"
He dismissed her with a wave of his hand. "This charade has gone on long enough. We have tried things your way. He needs to be told."
"You don't know what you're talking about! You don't see him everyday, he's happier this way!" she shouted back. The sudden jolt sent Baby S'chn T'gai kicking away, making her stomach stretch at odd angles in an almost-comical fashion.
The Vulcan's eyes widened and neither spoke until the movement ceased. "The child is like his father," he murmured quietly, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. Turning his dark eyes to her he added, "I do not believe that Spock is content in his present condition."
Sarek was hitting her where it hurt and he knew it so she went for the low blow too. "You don't know that. You don't know him like I do."
There—she'd hit her mark…too bad it didn't feel quite as gratifying as she'd hoped.
New Vulcan Colony, Stardate 2261.96, 1515 hours local time. Her address scrolled across the screen and Sarek paused, hesitating a fraction of a second before dismissing his assistant and accepting the call. Despite all outward signs to the contrary he was still greatly distressed by his recent communications with the Enterprise (and a certain lack thereof) and was unsure if he was emotionally stable enough for the coming conversation.
"Thank you, Ambassador. No disrespect to you or your people but what were they thinkin' leavin' out crucial information like this? Didn't they ever anticipate that Spock might want to have kids one day? Or that there'd be other Vulcan/Human couples that'd want to have children of their own?"
Judging by the odd expression on his face he determined the human physician was not asking rhetorically; however, in all honesty, until Sarek received the call 33 minutes and 8 seconds ago he was of the same mind as the VSA scientists who helped make Spock's conception possible—that his son would never be able to reproduce naturally. At best, biological parenthood might be obtained through more of the same artificial means he and Amanda had endured; at worst, his son would experience a childless existence.
And now it was discovered that his only daughter-in-law was 4.56 months with child.
A new life for the clan. For him. For his son. After the devastation Sarek was unsure that such a thing was possible. Where once the S'chn T'gai clan had been a large, noble house numbering in the hundreds there were only four dozen left; distant cousins, uncles, aunts, all stragglers clinging to each other and their name. T'Pau was getting far in her years and soon that generation would be gone as well, dwindling their numbers even more. If more children were not born in the coming time then the descendants of Surak would be absorbed into other clans and erased just as surely as their planet had been.
Turning his attention to the screen he eyed his daughter-in-law closely. She was fuller of face than when he last spoke with her two weeks ago and looking down at her stomach he realized he should have recognized the signs sooner.
"Greetings, sa-mekh."
"Ko-fu." She certainly looked penitent. "I should have been informed. It was your duty as a member of this clan to notify us of a viable pregnancy."
Nyota looked away and fiddled with the scarf draped about her shoulders. "I was going to, soon, I was just waiting…"
"Spock needs be informed as well."
He remembered well the day Amanda told him of her pregnancy, how she scarcely dared to hope and he could feel her anxiety and pleasure hum across the bond at the prospect of giving him a child. His son deserved such a moment with his own adun'a****.
His daughter-in-law, on the other hand, saw things differently. "Look, Sarek…"
No; he would not 'look'. She must be made to see reason. "This charade has gone on long enough. We have tried things your way. He needs to be told."
"You don't know what you're talking about! You don't see him everyday, he's happier this way!"
Sarek very much doubted her words and was about to say as much when her stomach lurched, the child within moving frantically about.
"Sarek!"
Her alarm had him on his feet and out his study in 1.59 seconds. Moving swiftly through the house he came across her in the informal living room resting on the lounge. Amanda had one hand placed on top of her stomach while the other gripped the back of the furniture. Standing in the doorway, Sarek panicked at the sight until she lifted her hand and urged him closer; clasping him by the wrist he felt nothing but joy and love as she pulled his palm to her stomach. A tiny foot instantly connected with his hand.
Her eyes lit up at his surprise. "See? We already have a little suus mahna***** master on our hands. He's going to be just like his Daddy…"
"The child is like his father," he murmured quietly, hoping the hint of emotion was not detected by the cunning linguist his son had bonded with. Returning to the matter at hand his eyes darkened. Nyota may not have fully understood how deep the bond ran but Sarek did and now with a child on the horizon he needed to make her see. "I do not believe that Spock is content in his present condition."
"You don't know that," she retorted sharply. "You don't know him like I do."
Sarek was stunned. Her words wounded him more deeply than she could have imagined—or perhaps that was her intent, to shut him out where she felt he had no business interfering. Under normal circumstances Nyota would have been correct; however, the situation they now found themselves in was far from normal.
"My Amanda often said she was extremely emotional during this stage in Spock's development. She too admitted to saying things she later came to regret," he replied, softening his stance. "Do not misconstrue what I am saying. I am only involving myself in this matter because I am concerned for your wellbeing, as well as that of Spock and the child."
Turning, he blinked away the abhorrent piece of dust in his eye. The uncles, aunts, cousins with him on New Vulcan—he had no true ties to them. Spock and Nyota and now this child were the ones he held closest to his heart. "You are also the only family I have left."
*lok = Vulkhansu for male genitalia
**sa-mekh = Vulkahnsu for father
***ko-fu = Vulkhansu for daughter
****adun'a = Vulkhansu for wife
****suus mahna = Vulcan martial arts
A/N 2: Hi again all. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I know people are getting frustrated and think that this is dragging out a bit and with that in mind I have a proposal to make. I am currently working on Chapters 15 and 16 and (I believe) nearing the end of this tale. Now what I normally like to do is have a story near-completion before I start posting, then post chapters periodically so that I have a buffer between when I start and when the conclusion is actually due. What I'm thinking of doing is posting the next few chapters in rapid succession and then maybe going on a bit of a posting break.
So, with that said, anybody care to share their thoughts with the class? Good idea, bad idea? Let me know either way because I'd love to hear from you!