A/N: The end! I couldn't get this last bit out of my head so I had to write it down and voila, here you go! Thank you all for taking the time to read and review over the last 18 chapters; it's been a pleasure writing for you all and maybe I'll be able to do so again in the future. Now enjoy!

Epilogue

U.S.S. Enterprise, Stardate 2264.220, 0513. His heat against her backside was only mildly oppressive as they lay together naked on the pallet, their legs entwined. She was sore in places she didn't know she could get sore; and even though Spock seemed to be resting peacefully behind her she didn't dare relax because inevitably just as she dozed off he'd be on her again. Still, she'd signed up for this the minute she fell in love with Spock (even if she didn't know it at the time), although that didn't make it any easier to bear now. When he first pitched Pon Farr to her the idea of a 5-7 day love fest with her husband sounded absolutely divine but now that she was in the middle of it Nyota found it was far from reality.

But if this was what it took to save his life then it was a sacrifice she was prepared to make. Next time, however, they'd be better prepared. Restraints, she'd definitely have to look into better restraints, and some extra dermal regens and hydration hypos too.

Just then he stirred against her and she braced herself for another round only to find his hand moving languidly from her shoulder to her hip and back again, tracing patterns as it went. He was being more playful then he'd been in recent days and for a split second she worried that she hadn't done her duty. "Ashayam?"

"Be at peace, Nyota. The fever has broken." Now she really did relax and she turned over so they were face to face. His eyes twinkled and his smile was bright. "In a few hours I should be well enough that we may return to T'Alora and to our quarters."

"T's fine," she replied, stroking the side of his face. He looked very dashing with a few days' worth of stubble on his chin and his hair in his eyes; her appraisal transferred across the bond and made him smirk and raise an eyebrow. "She's been staying with Len and Chris and I've been checking in. If anything after this she may want us to go away more often; apparently she can 'out-logic' her Uncle Bones into extra dessert more easily than she can her Daddy."

Spock smiled and leaned in close, cradling the side of her face as their foreheads touched. "T'Alora is cunning, just like her mother. Also, her use of logic has improved a great deal, as her previous attempts at procuring more after-dinner sustenance through me has been met with varying degrees of success in recent weeks."

Nyota sighed and snuggled in deeper against her husband's chest. "Mmm, sounds like our kid. With my good looks and your logic…"

"T'Alora will be quite formidable as she matures, yes," he finished for her. Spock sent thoughts her way of him using his suus mahna to fend off young men once their daughter reached adolescence. He did not relish the idea in the slightest and she laughed at a prospect that was still years in the making.

Suddenly his mood shifted and he tensed; reaching a hand up to her psi point the delved deeper into her mind before retreating just as quickly. Easing her out of his embrace and back onto the mattress Spock sat up. "You are in need of medical attention. I must page Doctor McCoy."

"Spock, I'm fine," she protested, grabbing his wrist before he could stand. The stiffness in her shoulder made her wince, not helping her argument at all. One eyebrow rose slowly to show he was not convinced. "Ok, maybe I'm not fine fine, but it's nothing some water and a few muscle relaxants can't help heal. Truthfully I think we both came out of this a lot better than we thought we would."

He nodded. "Indeed we have, which is why I must page Doctor McCoy. The objective has been reached."

Maybe it was the exhaustion or maybe it was just watching the cool Vulcan mask slip back into place but Nyota could not figure out what he was talking about. "Objective? What objective?"

He sank back down onto the pallet, cradling her cheek with one hand while placing the other over her abdomen, showing her a faint white light.

"A baby?" T'Alora's conception had been a 1 in a million shot—1 in 417,967, Spock mentally corrected her—and though they'd touched on the subject of having another child in the time since their daughter's birth they realized it wouldn't be easy. In fact the odds of them successfully conceiving another child, even during Pon Farr, were astronomical.

"Assuming all goes well with this pregnancy T'Alora will become an older sister by the middle of next year; which is why the Doctor must be called in at once." Spock stroked her cheek, marveling with her at their latest creation, before striding over to the comm unit on the opposite wall. He was nothing if not devoted to her and to their family's well-being.

She brought both hands down to her still-flat stomach in total awe. "Another baby…"