AN: This is just a little Saru/T'Rina one shot that I wrote because I felt like I needed to write it. (I have no other explanation for myself.) It can be read alone, or it will be enhanced if you read it after "Marital Quarrel."

I own nothing from Star Trek.

I hope you enjoy! If you do, please do let me know!

111

"You do not have to stay," T'Rina said.

It wasn't the first time that she'd offered Saru an "escape plan" of sorts from the appointment. Just like the half a dozen times before, however, he refused it.

"I will remain," he said. "I have questions for the doctor, and I would like to be present for anything that she may tell us about our young."

"Very well," T'Rina said. "As you like."

T'Rina was already wearing the robe that they'd told her to put on in place of her clothing. She was seated on the examination table and, despite the fact that there was a chair nearby that was meant for him, Saru was standing near her. Every now and again, he paced around the examination room—something that was relatively difficult given that it was a small space and he was rather long-limbed. He had a deep-seated instinct to run—not out of fear, but more out of frustration or pent-up energy.

T'Rina, too, was quite nervous. She remained outwardly composed for anyone who might observe her, but Saru had found, especially since their first mating, that he had something of a second sense about T'Rina's emotions. He could practically taste them in the air around him, in a way that was very new to him. She could repress them as much as she wanted, but Saru was almost always aware of them. He could practically absorb her emotions through his skin.

"It is only logical to be nervous," T'Rina said, "when it comes to the fate of one's young."

Saru laughed to himself, amused.

"You're telling me that," he said, "when…you are insisting on keeping your own feelings hidden from me."

"Not hidden," T'Rina said. "I am not being dishonest about my feelings in any way."

"Then you are also nervous," Saru said.

"It is only logical," she said, nodding her head. She looked at him, making eye contact with him for the first time in a while. If he couldn't feel her emotions like electricity flowing in waves over his skin, he could certainly see them in her eyes.

He smiled and took her hand—a touch which she allowed him, and one which she had almost entirely separated, in their life, from the more intimate and similar gesture in her own culture. She gave him the slightest hint of a smile, just barely letting it touch her lips, because she knew that he treasured when she allowed him such, and she nodded her head gently.

They were here to see a specialist in interspecies mating. Their child—their young, their baby, or their offspring, depending on which word either of them chose at any given moment—was unique. As far as they knew, it was the first of its kind. As a result, it was prudent to seek the medical care and advice of a specialist in interspecies gestation and delivery.

"The anxiety is natural," she said, "but there is little need for it. I am not currently in any physical distress. Therefore, it is doubtful that the baby is experiencing any distress."

"Yes, but…we haven't yet heard what the doctor is going to say."

"Whatever she says will be words," T'Rina said. "They have no more power, Saru, than the words that you or I choose to say. Nobody here will take our young from us."

"It is possible that they…tell us that our offspring will not be viable," Saru said. "In which case…"

"In which case," T'Rina interrupted, "we will seek other opinions and further advice before making an informed decision, together, about how we wish to proceed." There was, Saru noted, just enough force behind her words to make it clear that she didn't consider this up for negotiation. "We will not be making any decisions lightly."

Saru didn't respond. T'Rina's tone had made it clear to him, really, that there was no need for response. They were here, today, to hear what a highly recommended doctor had to say, but they were only there to listen.

If they wished to have much more of a private discussion about things, they were denied that by the arrival of the doctor.

Dr. Zkvlynk was a member of the Xiolig species. The Xioligs were mammals. At first glance, though, they. appeared very much like insects who happened to enjoy something akin to opposable thumbs. They were beings with six appendages—giving more evidence to those who believed they were an insectoid species at first glance. They were quadrupeds, with both sets of their legs being very close together, and their final set of appendages worked very similar to the manner in which human arms functioned—complete with a set of hand-like body parts that included five fingers and the coveted opposable thumbs that some species lacked entirely.

Xiolig eyes were not at all like insect eyes, and were much more reptilian. Their faces could best be described as very animated, not truly insect-like, but very unique.

Dr. Zkvlynk smiled as soon as she entered the room and closed the door behind her. She offered a hand out in T'Rina's direction first, and then she took Saru's hand. Saru was uncertain if the handshake was part of her culture, or merely a greeting that she'd chosen as one that was familiar, and therefore comforting, to many of her patients.

"Dr. Zkvlynk, I presume," T'Rina said, doing her best with the pronunciation of the doctor's name. The Xiolig language was difficult and, thanks to the universal translators, there was little need for anyone to try to master it beyond the basics needed to correctly say someone's name. The doctor smiled at T'Rina.

"Dr. Z, please," she said. "You are T'Rina?"

T'Rina nodded.

"And this is my husband, Saru," T'Rina offered.

"Nice to meet you both," Dr. Z said. "I've been reviewing your files. A Vulcan and a Kelpien. I must admit, your child is certainly unique. I have found no other records of a hybrid that was even comparable. In fact, there is very little information at all about Kelpiens and breeding. I'm afraid there's next to nothing about your cultural practices, so you will have to let me know if I am in danger of violating some cultural norm or practice about which I am unfamiliar, as we proceed."

"Since our marriage is unique," Saru said, "and since—our family arrangement will be quite unique, T'Rina and I have decided to create many of our own private cultural practices for our family."

This raised a smile from Dr. Z.

"That is not unusual," she said.

"We are aware," T'Rina said.

"Of course, we will be adhering to many Vulcan practices," Saru said, "but there are some that allow for—flexibility—especially within private realms."

"I am aware of many of those," Dr. Z said. "Don't worry. I am not judgmental about the practices of other species, or the choices of individuals to pursue what feels acceptable to them. There are many practices of my own species which I eschew, and some that I am actively working to change."

She took them both in, blinking, and Saru had a moment to study her eyelid structure—remarkable, he thought, and perfect for protecting eyes from the harsh environment of her home planet.

"You may relax here," Dr. Z said. "Both of you," she added, pointedly looking at T'Rina.

Saru sensed that T'Rina did relax, though not as much, perhaps, as the doctor might have hoped.

"What are your immediate concerns?" Dr. Z asked.

Saru looked at T'Rina. She looked at him and nodded her head gently, giving him the permission to speak for both of them. He cleared his throat. He felt nervous, not because he feared the doctor, but because he feared what she could tell him. It felt as if she had the power, somehow, to declare that they would not have this child, which they both wanted. Saru knew, of course, that wasn't the case—even if she told them something unpleasant, she would only be reporting the facts as she knew them to be—but it didn't keep him from feeling nervous.

"T'Rina's immediate concern was the blood composition," Saru said.

Dr. Z consulted the padd she'd brought in with her.

"The lab results and tricorder scans performed by my staff confirm that the baby's blood composition is copper-based. It's true that the blood composition can be one of our leading causes of fatalities related to interspecies procreation, but it appears there is no threat of that, here."

Saru turned to look at T'Rina. She stared straight ahead, and he could sense that she was working harder than usual to keep her emotions at bay. As a pregnant Vulcan, it was acceptable for her to express more of her emotions than usual—pregnancy being one of the conditions that allowed for it—and since they were in a private space, she was allowed more freedom to choose how much she felt comfortable expressing.

At the moment, it was evident that she wanted to keep as much to herself as possible.

"One of our other—biggest concerns," Saru said, hesitating when it came to word choice, "is that…Vulcan gestation is ten and a half months. Kelpien gestation is approximately eleven and a half months. If T'Rina conceived at the time of our first mating, she would have spent no longer than three months in gestation to this point in time."

Dr. Z made a sound that Saru quickly figured out was something like a nervous laugh.

"Are you about to tell me that you're not sure this child is, in fact, the result of your union?" She asked.

Saru sensed T'Rina's reaction even as he saw it in her eyes. She tensed up, nearly like she would rise off the table.

"I beg your pardon," she said, her voice shaking just a little with mostly-controlled anger. Saru heard it, even if Dr. Z couldn't. Still, he had a good feeling that the doctor probably did sense it. "The baby I am carrying is most certainly the result of our union—even if I am not certain about the exact moment of conception."

"What concerns us is not parentage," Saru said quickly. He reached out to touch T'Rina, and she allowed it. "What concerns us is…well…"

T'Rina ran a hand over her belly, smoothing down the gown she was wearing.

"We are concerned because it would appear that the child is experiencing some sort of…rapid growth," T'Rina said.

"We want to make sure it's healthy," Saru added.

"I see," Dr. Z said, taking in the visibly rounded appearance of T'Rina's belly. Such a rounded state would not be unheard of in pregnancy, and they took no alarm from that, by itself. It was, rather, the fact that it seemed entirely too early in the pregnancy for such a thing to be quite so pronounced that alarmed them. "Would you mind if I examine you?"

"That is why we are here," T'Rina said.

"Of course," Dr. Z said. "Lie back, please? May I—expose your abdomen?"

T'Rina lay back and moved the gown for the doctor. Saru watched as the doctor probed T'Rina's belly. He watched T'Rina—in particular, he watched her eyes. He felt himself practically tasting the air around him, actively sensing her reactions and, it seemed, responding to some practically instinctual need to make sure that she didn't need him to respond in some way.

"May I—perform a scan of the baby?" Dr. Z asked. "So that we have some image of what we are looking at?"

"Of course," T'Rina said, without hesitation.

It took the doctor only a moment to bring up a screen where Saru realized they would see their child in its current form. She said a few things to T'Rina, which he heard, but mostly felt were meant to be soothing. There was nothing said that T'Rina wouldn't have been able to figure out on her own. Soon, she was using a small disc to scan T'Rina, and she was projecting an image for them.

"There are some signs of slight maternal distress," Dr. Z said. She gave them both a reassuring smile. "Nothing unexpected for a tense situation. Vulcans can suppress their emotions, but their internal functions do not always cooperate with their outward appearance. Try to remain calm, if you can. There are no clear signs of distress from the baby. It's safe to relax as much as possible."

"I am calming," T'Rina said, matter-of-factly. "Please, proceed."

"This will be a live birth," Dr. Z said, her words coming out as something between a statement and a question.

"Naturally," T'Rina said.

Dr. Z glanced at Saru, as if she weren't sure. He forgave her any initial misconception about his species. He knew that her species also gave live birth, but he would have never imagined that, if there was as little in the databanks about her species as there was about his.

"Without much information on Kelpien gestation, I can only say—this baby looks quite healthy," Dr. Z said. "You can see that…here is the skull, the spine, we have one…two arms. There is one leg, and there's the other. I can see a clear heartbeat, here. It's properly located for a Vulcan heart." She stopped talking for a moment and focused on her scans. Saru didn't know much of what she was looking at, but she seemed very adept at what she was doing, moving rather quickly as she seemed to zoom in and out on areas that she wanted to pay close attention to in her search. "I have to admit—I would say the development here appears to be exactly what I would expect."

"Then—why the rapid growth?" Saru asked.

Dr. Z looked amused, something that was only compounded by the way her antennae twitched. She very clearly looked Saru up and down and gestured back to the image, changing it slightly. The view she chose made it clear that they were looking at a baby, and Saru could hardly pull his eyes away from it.

"That's a really clear image, isn't it?" Dr. Z said, sounding somewhat affectionate, even.

"That is our child," Saru said.

"Remarkable," T'Rina said, leaning up a little from her position, though not enough to disturb the image.

"It is quite remarkable," Dr. Z said. "It still has a lot of growing to do, and it will take a more developed form with time. You can see the position that the baby has taken. And this is T'Rina's womb."

"I don't understand," Saru said.

"Your baby isn't experiencing anything that appears to be the result of rapid growth," Dr. Z said. "Everything seems developmentally where I would expect it to be, if you conceived this child approximately ten to twelve weeks ago."

"But—" Saru said. He stopped when he felt T'Rina wrap her fingers around his arm. When he looked at her, she was looking at him with a hint of a smile in her eyes. She allowed a touch of it to come to her lips.

"Our baby isn't too big, Saru," she said. "Our baby is simply…big."

"Your baby is big," Dr. Z confirmed.

Realization started to sink in for Saru. They let him have a moment to come to terms with it.

"Will that be—dangerous for T'Rina?" He asked.

"Her body should know what to do to handle it, and it should adjust as the baby grows," Dr. Z said. "However, we'll keep a check on things—presuming that you want to stay with me throughout your pregnancy. Otherwise, whoever you choose will monitor the baby's growth and its impact on T'Rina."

"What about…" Saru stopped. He looked at T'Rina, but it was clear that she was letting him voice his own concerns. He sighed. "Kelpiens have…hooves."

Dr. Z smiled. She gestured back toward the screen and trailed her finger in one area—a finger that, unlike human fingers, was very thin and very long.

"Even in the scan, I can see the eponychium," she said.

"Meaning?" Saru asked.

"It's a soft layer of tissue," Dr. Z said. "It'll protect T'Rina during gestation, labor, and delivery. Shortly after birth, it will fall away." She turned her attention to T'Rina. "Do you have any questions or concerns?"

"No," T'Rina said simply. "Only…"

"Yes?" The doctor urged.

"Is the pregnancy viable?" T'Rina asked. "I would appreciate absolute honesty."

Dr. Z went about putting away everything from the scan.

"We will face whatever challenges may arise, as they become evident," she said. "But—I have no reason to believe that this baby is not healthy, and I have every reason to believe that it will continue to grow well."

Saru sensed T'Rina's relief. He felt his own, too, but strangely he also felt as if her relief was what mattered most to him.

For her part, T'Rina drew in a visibly deep breath and let it out a touch more dramatically than she normally would.

"Thank you," she said.

"You're welcome," Dr. Z responded.

"Your species—you don't raise your own young," T'Rina said.

"No," Dr. Z said. "As part of our culture, we mate with partners that are chosen for us. The best choices for breeding. We give up our young at birth. Only those that are chosen by the government of our planet are given young to raise, and…even then…they cannot be your biological offspring. It's thought to strengthen the societal bond and avoid personal attachment."

"You don't agree," T'Rina said softly, the words coming out as much more of a statement than the question they might have been. She already knew the answer. She sat up on the table, and Dr. Z didn't protest. The examination, Saru sensed, was done unless there were further questions about their baby.

"It is one of the things that I am fighting to change about my culture," Dr. Z said. "But cultural change comes slowly."

"But it can come," T'Rina said. "Especially when it's important, and people are willing to fight for it. What makes you want to be part of this profession? It must be difficult, seeing everyone with their children."

"On the contrary," Dr. Z said. "I find it to be one of the happiest things to experience. Given my own experiences, there is little that I find more joyous than the moment when I am able to introduce new parents to their wanted and loved child—and know that they will go on to live a happy life together."

T'Rina studied her a moment. Saru felt a shift in the air around him—he felt T'Rina's pleasure with the answer. He felt her peace. He saw Dr. Z's antennae twitch, and he thought that, perhaps, she felt it, too. He couldn't help but smile.

"I hope that—one day you shall do the same for us," T'Rina said.

Dr. Z smiled.

"I'm looking forward to it," she said.