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Author's Notes:

I LOVE kidfic, but I could do without Mpreg. So I came up with a way for Kirk and Spock to have a biological child without forcing one of them to take a feminine role in a same-sex relationship.

I work in a daycare/preschool, and a lot of these moments come from experiences there. This whole story came about with three ideas I had: 1. If I were a Vulcan, I could meld with this baby and figure out why it won't. stop. crying! 2. This kid tells me that clean diapers feel better than dirty diapers, but he won't use the toilet. Illogical. 3. I bet it'd be easy to potty train a Vulcan kid.




“There are three methods that can be used,” said the High Science Priest of Ganymede Zeus. “First is the surgical method. We extract sperm cells directly from the testicles and combine the DNA.”

“Extract?” Kirk questioned.

“Yes, with a hypodermic needle.”

Some part of Kirk’s brain was very proud of the fact that he managed to stop himself from yelping out loud. “Next!”

“The medical method requires both men to masturbate and collect their respective emissions in a sample cup.”

“Sounds much better,” Kirk muttered. “And the third?”

“The natural method is similar to the medical method with a slight variation to the procedure. Instead of requiring that each man masturbate separately, the two men engage in some form of mutual gratification until emission, at which point the semen is collected in two specimen cups.”

Kirk didn’t risk a look toward Spock.

The priest continued. “We have found that the natural method yields the best results. Achievement of mutual orgasm seems to increase the quality of sperm cells. Of course, the method you use is your choice.”

“The method we use?” It was the first time Spock had spoken since the explanation began.

“Surely you intend to experience the process.” When neither man replied, his voice began to rise. “We do not share information of the process to those who do not undergo the procedure. The punishment for such deceit is death!”

Kirk switched to his most diplomatic and placating tone of voice. “My first officer and I were not informed of this requirement prior to your explanation. How can we be held responsible when we were not cognizant of the requirements?”

The priest was unimpressed. “Ignorance of the law is not an excuse. Which will it be? The process or death?”


The whole mess had started when the Enterprise was sent to make contact with the beings on a small planet, Ganymede Zeus, in a relatively unknown star system. The civilization had recently developed interstellar travel, but its strategically important location made it an ideal candidate for membership in the Federation.

After an initial greeting via a ship to planet hail, Kirk and Spock had beamed down to the planet to speak with the leaders of the government. What they had found was, to put it lightly, unexpected.

The entire population of the planet was male.

Perhaps even more unexpected was what they had observed after spending several hours with the governmental leaders. The High Science Priest of Ganymede Zeus took the two Starfleet officers on a tour of the government center in the capitol city. If the lack of women was surprising, their discovery in the corridors of one building was downright shocking.

There were children.

All the children were male, of course, and they ranged across all age groups. Some children were with, what Kirk assumed were, their parents. Two male parents.

Spock had been fascinated, as had Kirk. Spock asked the High Science Priest about their species’ reproduction, explaining that it was not possible for two males in any currently known race to procreate. The priest had been happy to share with them the science behind how they had managed to perpetuate their all-male race. It seemed that, though the people Ganymede Zeus had only just attained warp drive, the study and knowledge of the sciences was quite advanced.

That was how the two highest ranking officers on the Enterprise had come to be in their predicament, apparently required to procreate.


Spock tried to reason with the man. “Captain Kirk and I do not share a romantic or sexual relationship. There is no logic in a decision to bring a life into the world when there is not a loving environment in which it can thrive and grow.”

The priest paused. “You are not in a relationship?”

Kirk, relieved at the priest’s change in demeanor, relaxed somewhat. “We are not.”

“Upon your arrival, our automatic brain scanners detected the presence of strong emotions between the two of you. Namely, we found a high degree of mutual respect, affection, devotion, and love.” He appeared confused. “And yet you say that you have no such relationship?”



Curious, the priest pressed on. “The scans clearly showed these emotions. The only explanation is that you both desire a relationship, but for unknown reasons, you have not yet consummated your desire.”

“Fascinating,” Spock said, ignoring Kirk’s incredulous look. “You say you have the technological means to scan a brain for such abstract notions as emotions?”

“Of course we do. Now, let us return to the topic at hand. Do you choose procreation or death?”

“Look,” Kirk interjected, “a starship is not the kind of place to raise a kid, especially not one that is on an exploratory mission. At any time the crew can be faced with unimaginable choices or the strong possibility of death.” Kirk shot a pointed look at the priest.

The three men stared at each other for a few moments until Spock broke the tense silence.

“Perhaps the captain and I could have some time alone to discuss our options, and you could use the time to consider our arguments.”

The priest considered the suggestion. “Very well. You may have ten Earth minutes to discuss your decision. I will lead you to one of our medical procedure rooms where you will have complete privacy.” He led them down the corridor to a locked room and paused outside. “Do not waste time attempting to contact your ship. This entire building is secure, and transmissions are blocked. You have no alternative. Knock on the door when you have made your choice.” He unlocked the door and left them inside.

As soon as the door shut, Kirk reached for his communicator. “Kirk to Enterprise.” He waited. Silence. “Kirk to Enterprise. Come in, Enterprise.” Again, the only answer was silence.


“What?” He turned to see Spock indicating a sign above the door.

‘External transmissions to and from this room blocked for your privacy.’

Well, hell. “Any bright ideas, Mr. Spock?” Kirk asked with a weak smile, already knowing the answer.


An hour later, Kirk said, “Well, uh…” He tried for a nonchalant tone, but he sounded strangled even to his own ears. “How should we do this?”

An angled eyebrow shot up. “I was under the impression that you have had ample experience with the procedure of sexual relations.”

Kirk’s face reddened. “Yes, I have. But this situation is a little new to me.”

“One would hope so.”

The Vulcan’s voice was almost teasing, and Kirk felt himself starting to relax. “All right, smart aleck,” he smiled. “There's no need to tease.” The awkward silence fell again. “I am sorry about this, Spock. I’d never imagined our first time would be like this. Plenty of other scenarios, but…” He cut himself off and shut his mouth.

Spock had gone completely still. “You have… fantasized about me?”

Kirk’s laugh was stilted and robotic. “I guess sometimes I get tired of thinking about blonde women.”

Spock looked unconvinced. “I see.”

“So… umm… look, if you really don’t want to do this, I won’t make you.”

“I believe the brain scans have already confirmed our mutual attraction. I see no reason for us to lie to ourselves or each other any longer.”

Kirk’s heart started beating faster, but he had to be sure that Spock knew what he was getting into. “There’s a difference between mutual attraction and having a baby together. I mean, do you love me?”

He chided himself mentally for asking that question. He hadn’t meant to bring love into the conversation, or the relationship for that matter, so soon, but the question was now hanging in the air between them. After a few seconds, he hastily said, “You don’t have to answer that. I know this isn’t easy for you, and I don’t want to push you into – “

Spock’s finger on his lips shut him up.

“The question is fair. You deserve to know how I… feel.” Years of being with humans hadn’t made it any easier for him to admit his feelings, or even their existence, but this was important, perhaps the most important moment of his life thus far. “I have no basis of comparison for describing my emotions with regards to you. I do not know whether what I feel for you is love, but I am confident that mere friendship is not an adequate description.”

“So,” Kirk began after drawing a shaky breath, “you’re saying you could love me at some point?”


Warmth suffused Kirk’s body as his mouth slowly spread into a grin. Without warning, he launched himself at Spock, pressing their dry lips together. “I guess I can tell you that I’m pretty sure I could love you, too. I might already.”

Spock’s arms threaded around Kirk’s waist, and he lowered his mouth to Kirk’s. His lips brushed the other man’s when he asked, “Shall we?” Kirk’s only reply was a breathy moan and a tug in the direction of the provided bed. He pushed Spock onto the bed and began tugging at his own clothing, eager to begin the “procedure.”

Brown eyes devoured every square inch of skin that was revealed to him while long fingers sought out his own arousal.

One look at Spock, who was rubbing at his own erection through his trousers, and Kirk pounced. He straddled Spock’s hips, grinding his erection into Spock’s and pulling off the science blue shirt.

“Oh god,” he moaned, eyes slipping shut as his fingers ran over Spock’s abdomen. “You feel so good. Want you so badly. Clothes off now.” He leaned down and bit Spock’s nipple, eliciting a sharp grunt.

Spock flipped their positions. Lowering his mouth to Kirk’s ear, he ordered, “You will cease speaking at this time,” and damned if that didn’t make Kirk’s blood boil.

The Vulcan divested himself of the remainder of his clothing so that he and his lover could take a quick moment to regard each other. Then he scooted his hips forward, and all bets were off.

Hot erections met as hips undulated uncontrollably. Spock leaned forward and kissed Kirk hungrily, trapping their erections together between two firm abdomens. Pressure built as the soft skin of their penises teased them. There wasn’t enough friction to get them off, but neither man seemed to want it to end yet.

Spock’s fingers traced Kirk’s lips while his own lips tickled the rounded ear lobes. He bit the tender skin behind Kirk’s ear and was rewarded with a gasp that caused Kirk’s mouth to open.

He bit lightly on Spock’s index finger, and Spock hummed lowly, putting more force into his thrusts. His spare hand reached down together their erections together. The increased friction drove the two into a frenzy.

With his last functional brain cells, Spock grabbed the specimen cups that had been set on the bedside table. He separated from Kirk and used one hand to hold the cup below Kirk’s penis while the other stroked him. Kirk mirrored Spock’s actions, and they were somehow able to climax at the same time without spilling any semen.

Spock collapsed on him and rested their foreheads against the other. Faced with a brilliant grin from Kirk, he had no choice but to smile back with one corner of his mouth.

“We’re going to have a baby.”


“We should probably… you know…” Kirk gestured to the cups they each held in their hands.

“Yes,” agreed Spock, but he made no move to get up. Kirk pushed him over to lie at his side, covered both cups with their labeled lids, and pushed them through the slot in the door to be collected by the staff.

“I feel I should say,” began Kirk, as he climbed into Spock’s arms, “that I’m very glad we decided on the natural method.”


Three days later (they were unsuccessful in their attempts to learn how the process had completed so quickly), Spock and Kirk were presented with a small, warm blanket that held the results of the demonstration. “Your son, Captain, Commander,” murmured the glowing priest.


The boy quickly became the center of their universe. The entire crew of the Enterprise cooed and fawned over the baby, his slight green skin tone, dark eyes, tiny hands and feet, pointed ears, dark hair… any feature that was visible.

1 day old

The two fathers found a moment of solace in Kirk’s quarters. They lay on his bed, facing each other with their son between them.

“Human name or Vulcan name?” Kirk asked, eyes never leaving the sight of his child’s fingers wrapped around his index finger.

Spock lightly rubbed his hand over the boy’s stomach. “Either option would be logical,” he sighed, gazing into the infant’s wide, brown eyes.

Kirk’s eyes rose to take in the barely discernable adoring smile on Spock’s face as he watched their son. Amused, he said, “Spock, did you just hedge an answer to a direct question? Fatherhood is already softening your logic?”

“I see no reason to resort to insults, Jim,” came the reply, accompanied by a stern glare and a stiffening of posture.

Laughing, Kirk leaned over the infant to press a kiss to Spock’s forehead. “Okay, we’ll table the name-giving discussion until we both have some ideas. It smells like he needs to be changed anyway.”

They stood, and Spock gathered the baby in his arms. Kirk led the way to the bathroom that connected their quarters, the bathroom that now housed a changing table.

When the natural method was finished and they were on the planet waiting for the process to be completed, Kirk had made a series of awkward communications with the Enterprise, giving orders for some things to be changed before they returned to the ship.

The biggest changes were to their quarters. Spock and Kirk would now share Kirk’s quarters so that Spock’s could be used as a nursery for their baby. Engineering had built a crib that was bracketed to the floor to prevent it from moving when the ship encountered any sort of turbulence. They had added the changing table in the bathroom and baby-proofed the three rooms.

The quartermaster set to work to create a supply of infant clothing for the child, in addition to blankets, toys, and diapers. Kirk was able to purchase some goods on the surface of Ganymede Zeus, but he had spent enough time in Starfleet to know that there was not such a thing as being too prepared.

“Good god!” Kirk exclaimed, aghast. He and Spock had opened the baby’s diaper for the first time and were about to attempt changing his diaper. “They said it was a boy!”

Standing at Kirk’s side, Spock raised an eyebrow. “Are you claiming that you are unfamiliar with Vulcan male anatomy?” Kirk stared at him, looking bewildered. “A Vulcan male’s penis is retractable. Did you not notice the characteristic when we underwent the ‘natural method’ procedure?” Kirk’s mouth had fallen open, but he made no attempt to speak. “Fascinating.”

“Your dick didn’t slide out of your body! I felt it against me before we even took off our clothes. I would have noticed a penis sliding out of a vagina-looking thing.” He tried to calm himself, but the concept of such a foreign anatomical setup was difficult for him to conceive.

Spock frowned infinitesimally. “Our copulation was incredibly stimulating. By the time we disrobed, my penis was fully erect and thus fully extended. When it is flaccid, the penis is protected inside the body to prevent injury or undue stimulation.”

Hearing Spock’s rich, clinical tone of voice explaining the mechanics of Vulcan erections was certainly rather stimulating for Kirk, whose pupils began to dilate as he imagined Spock’s erection rubbing against his own. “Damn, Spock,” he moaned, voice breathy and deep, “I never thought the words ‘copulation’ and ‘stimulating’ and even ‘flaccid’ could be so erotic. You are… unbelievably hot.”

“Actually, Jim, a healthy Vulcan’s body temperature is 32.78 degrees Celsius while a human’s body temperature is 37 degrees.”

“You’re also sexy when you pretend you don’t know any slang or idioms.” He thought for a moment, contemplating his next words. “So, in the interest of science and so on,” he purred, stalking predatorily toward Spock, “we should take some time to acquaint me with your anatomy. Right now.” He was starting to become uncomfortable by the arousal that had grown since Spock started describing their ‘copulation.’

Spock cleared his throat and stepped back from Kirk. “Perhaps we should attend to our baby.”

If that wasn’t the verbal equivalent of a cold shower, Kirk didn’t know what was. He turned back to their unnamed child to see him staring intently at his parents. Creepy.

“Right. So… how do we… clean his… you know…”

“His genitals?” Spock supplied.

“Yeah, genitals,” repeated Kirk, happy to have a nicely detached and mature term for their child’s… privates.

Spock stepped forward and proceeded to give his captain a lesson on the proper cleaning and care of a male Vulcan infant’s body.

2 days old

“I think we should give him a Vulcan name and a human name.”

“I also believe this would be the most logical course of action. He is to be a child of both worlds, and his name should represent his heritage. I have one request regarding his name.”

“Okay, what is it?”

“I would prefer that the child carry your surname.”

Kirk smiled softly. “You want him to be a Kirk?”

Nodding, Spock replied, “He should have a surname that is pronounceable to many diverse cultures and races. I have been asked quite often about my family name, and very few languages have compatible consonant and vowel arrangement.”

“If his surname is Kirk, I want his first name to be a Vulcan name. Do you have any suggestions? I don’t know many Vulcan names, other than the names of people we know. And we’re not naming our kid Sarek.”

A corner of Spock’s mouth twitched, and his eyes glowed with amusement. “I have no intention of assigning our child the name of any Vulcans with whom we are acquainted and certainly not that of my father.”

Kirk pressed a kiss to that smirking pink mouth. “Do you have anything in mind?”

Spock could feel Kirk’s breath on his face, and he closed his eyes to savor the sensations, physical and emotional, it provoked. With a shuddering inhalation, he whispered, “Syvek.”

“Syvek,” Kirk repeated. “Syvek. Is that s-y-v-e-k?” Spock nodded. “Syvek. I like it. Syvek Kirk. Hmmm… We’ll need to give him a middle name because the last letter of his first name is the same as the first letter of his last name.”

“Syvek George Kirk,” Spock suggested, aware of the human practice of honoring one’s parents or other relatives by choosing to reuse a name. In fact, Kirk’s name was one such example.

“Syvek George Kirk… No, I don’t want him to have ‘George Kirk’ in his name. Maybe… Could we give him Bones’ name?” He knew that there was some lingering animosity between the two, but he was also aware that most of the disagreements and banter were playful.

“Syvek Bones Kirk? I do not find that name suitable,” he said dryly.

Kirk laughed. “You should joke more often. It’s adorable.”

“Vulcans do not joke, and they are certainly not characterized by the adjective ‘adorable,’” was Spock’s severe reply, but he felt affection and fondness emanating from his companion. “Syvek Leonard Kirk, then? That is acceptable.”

“Great! Let’s go tell Bones!”

1 week old

“He has your eyes. And your nose. And your ears.”

“Many Vulcan traits are dominant.”

“Why’s he so green? You don’t look very green most of the time.” Kirk could hardly believe that he had made it a full week without having asked that question. He wasn’t sure how it would be received, and he had no intention of giving Spock the idea that he was somehow disturbed (or worse, disappointed) by the fact that their child had green blood instead of red.

“Have you never seen human Caucasian newborn offspring?”

“Sure I have.” He wasn’t sure where this was heading.

“Their skin tends to be dark red or purple due to their immature circulatory system and underdeveloped epidermis. Such is the case with Syvek. His tint will fade.”

Kirk sighed in relief. “Good. I find his greenness somewhat unnerving.”

“I confess that I hold a similar opinion.”

The two men smiled at each other (and it still made Kirk’s heart pound to see Spock’s smile, even ten days after they had shared their first kiss).

“I love his tiny hands and feet,” said Kirk. “There’s something about his fingernails that really drives home the fact that this little thing is really a human. Er, human-Vulcan hybrid. Uh, humanoid.”

Spock rubbed his thumb over the sole of a miniature green foot, watching the toes fan out while the foot flexed, and murmured, “Indeed.”

Putting his index finger upon Syvek’s palm and watching his little fingers clamp around it, Kirk felt an incredible happiness begin to bubble throughout his mind and body. “I love the way he grabs onto my finger like that, as if he wants to cling to me forever.”

“Infants are born with a palmar grasp reflex that causes their fingers to grasp any item placed upon their palm,” Spock stated matter-of-factly. “There is also a plantar reflex, which I have just demonstrated, that occurs because the corticospinal pathways that run from the brain down the spinal cord are not fully myelinated.”

Kirk glared at Spock. “Thanks for that,” he spat with venom.

“I am uncertain of what has caused your sudden change in demeanor,” Spock said evenly, warily.

“Of course you are. Do you have to ruin everything?” Kirk stood and stalked away, leaving a bewildered Spock behind.

“What caused such behavior?” he asked Syvek, who gurgled back happily.

2 weeks old

Syvek screamed more than any baby Kirk had ever seen. He cried for hours, and nothing could calm him down. Spock was on the bridge, and scared that the baby was sick, Kirk ran through the corridors, holding the wailing infant securely against his chest. He burst through the door into sickbay (of course, the door wasn’t really made for bursting, so he actually ran through the doorway) and called out for his CMO.

“What the hell, Jim? Why is that kid screaming? Why are you out of breath? And why the hell are you yelling out my name at the top of your lungs?”

“He won’t stop crying! I don’t know what he needs!”

Bones waved his scanner around the child, searching for any abnormalities. According to the results, the infant was not hungry, tired, or sick, and his diaper was clean. “How long has he been crying?”

“Umm, about… half an hour? What time is it?” He checked the sickbay clock. “Yes, thirty minutes. I don’t know what the hell to do!”

McCoy raised an eyebrow at Kirk. “Thirty minutes? You pansy. Hold your kid, rock him, play with him, sing… no, talk to him… Thirty minutes is nothing. Come back in three hours if he hasn’t stopped.”

Before he could leave, he heard the bosun’s whistle, and the intercom lit up. “Spock to Captain Kirk.”

Kirk deposited the shrieking baby in McCoy’s arms and went to the intercom. “Kirk here.”

“Captain, is something amiss? I sense some amount of distress through my link with Syvek.” Spock’s voice was as professional as it had been three weeks ago, before they could have contemplated the possibility of such a change in their relationship, let alone the existence of their baby. He was ever aware of his duty and the fact that he was using a ship communicator to contact Kirk.

Something caught Kirk’s attention. “You have a link with Syvek? Since when?”

“Perhaps we should discuss this privately in… your quarters.” The pause lasted perhaps half a second, but both Kirk and Bones recognized it.

Kirk huffed out a small laugh. “You can refer to it as our quarters, you know.”

“Very well, Captain. Will you return so that we might discuss this together?”

That he did not choose to use the pronoun did not escape Kirk’s notice. “All right, all right. We’re coming.” He ended the link. “See you later, Bones,” he muttered, as he accepted the squirming, squealing child into his own arms.


Spock was waiting at Kirk’s desk when he and Syvek entered their quarters. Syvek was still screaming, and Kirk explained why the two of them had been in sickbay. At the end of Kirk’s story, Spock nodded and put out his arms to take the child. Cradling the boy in one arm, he used his other hand to put his fingers on Syvek’s meld points.

Syvek immediately stopped crying. Kirk watched as his two Vulcans breathed slowly, eyes closed in concentration. A few minutes later, Spock removed his fingers and opened his eyes. He smiled down at Syvek, who was sleeping peacefully, looking completely content.

After carrying the baby through the shared restroom and into his quarters, which they had converted to a nursery for the baby, Spock emerged and fixed his gaze on Kirk, who had taken a seat on the bed. He sat beside him and began to speak.

“Vulcan children and parents share a familial bond. Syvek instinctively formed this bond with me the first time I held him.”

“Wait,” Kirk interjected, “how did you get him to stop crying?”

“He was experiencing some mild discomfort. I used the bond to help soothe his pain and to begin to teach him how to do so himself.”

Feeling like a complete failure, Kirk said, “So there’s nothing I could do to help him, short of giving him some pain medication, which would be absurd. I couldn’t have known he was in pain, so I didn’t think of giving him drugs.”

“Medication for pain is usually unnecessary for Vulcan, except in instances of extreme injury or illness,” Spock admonished, somewhat alarmed at the thought of giving medication to a two-week-old baby.

Kirk rolled his eyes, saying, “I know better than to give him any medication that is not strictly needed. And Bones wouldn’t allow it anyway.” He thought for a moment. “I’m never going to be as good of a parent as you. I don’t have a telepathic bond with him.”

Hearing the heartbroken tone in Kirk’s voice caused a pang of sympathy within Spock. “He also bonded with you, but due to your low esper rating, you are unable to detect the bond.”

Kirk’s head jerked up to meet Spock’s eyes. “I want to feel that bond! Is there any way I could learn how to use it, or at least how to become aware of it?”

There was so much hope in Kirk’s hazel eyes that Spock found it hard to breathe. Heart thumping in his side, he made a suggestion he had planned on delaying. “I could… help you learn how to manipulate the bond.”

“Okay. What do I need to do?” Kirk turned so he was fully facing Spock, drawing his left leg up on the bed and hooking his right leg over his left ankle.

Spock looked down. “You would need an intermediary, someone to enter both your mind and Syvek’s, to show you the bond and allow you to recognize it.” He stopped speaking.

“Can’t you do that?”

“Yes, I can, but joining our three minds together will be dangerous in some ways.”

Kirk waited, but Spock did not continue. “In what ways will it be dangerous? I don’t know what you’re getting at, Spock. Just tell me everything.”

“Jim, our bonds with Syvek are extraordinarily strong. Parental bonds are the second-strongest bonds that one can make. Because you and I are not bonded but share a child, allowing our parental bonds to contact each other will create a bond between us.”

“So let’s do it. Let’s bond.” He was uncertain as to why this was supposedly dangerous.

Spock closed his eyes and sighed. This was clearly going to be more difficult than he had anticipated. “The bond that the contact will create is a matrimonial bond.” He watched understanding dawn in Kirk’s eyes. The understanding morphed into fear, into panic, and into refusal. This final emotion caused Spock to look away again.

Kirk winced. “Look, Spock, I do love you, more than I’ve ever loved anyone before. But the bonding thing sort of... scares me.” He stood and began pacing. “I haven’t had much luck with long term relationships, and I’m not that comfortable with commitment.”

Spock’s posture became more and more rigid throughout Kirk’s speech. His face slipped into a seamless Vulcan mask, one Kirk hadn’t seen for months. “I will remind you, Captain,” he began, tone colder than Kirk had ever heard it, “that you have already committed yourself by agreeing to have a child with me.”

He deflated a bit. “Yes, but... I... Well... That’s different!” he insisted.

“I respectfully disagree, sir. In fact, this commitment is more binding than even a romantic one. We have decided to devote ourselves to the child; therefore we are devoted to each other for at least the duration of his life.”

Kirk thought about Spock’s words but was unable to come up with a solution. “I’ll…” Kirk looked at his feet and his shoulders drooped. “I’ll be back in a little while.”


“Damn it, Jim! What is your problem? I thought you loved him!” McCoy exclaimed. “What the hell were you thinking?”

Kirk’s head was perched on the desk in McCoy’s quarters, and his hands were clasped around an empty glass in front it. He tried to breathe evenly as he rested his forehead on the edge of the desk and closed his eyes before he began to speak.

“So much has happened in the last few weeks. I never thought I would become a father. It’s not as if I had any problem with being a dad; I just figured it would never happen. Nature of the job and all, I guess. Now… I have this… baby, and somehow that squirming, screaming poop factory has become the most… beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. And he wouldn’t exist without Spock.

“The problem is that even with an unplanned pregnancy from a one night stand, the future parents have several months together, during which they can get to know each other, come to love… each other. Spock and I had three days. Three awkward days, which were spent avoiding each other as much as possible and carefully ignoring the elephant in the room whenever avoidance wasn’t possible.

“When we had to decide whether we were going to have a child or face the death penalty, I told him that I loved him. He said he believed he could love me someday. God, the joy I felt at those words… But what he wants now is not love. It’s commitment to someone who doesn’t love me; it’s a free pass into my thoughts and feelings, accessible at all times.”

Bones waited a moment before he said, “You’ve melded with him before. He asked for your consent, and you seemed happy to give it. What’s so different about a bond?”

“He asked for my consent! That’s what’s different!” Kirk sighed, feeling old and tired. “A bond would be an all-access pass to my brain. He wouldn’t need to ask for consent.”

“Are you sure that’s what a bond would be?”

“That’s the impression that I get.”

“Well, what’ve you guys been doing the last two weeks? Spock’s quarters are now Syvek’s nursery, right? You two sharing a bed?” He really did not want details, but his friend needed to talk to someone, and that someone was clearly not going to be Spock this time.

“What do you think we’ve been doing? Yes, we are sharing quarters, and we are sharing a bed. But we don’t exactly have a lot of time alone. We’re working different shifts now so the kid has at least one dad with him at all times. Usually when we are together, Syvek’s there. And at night, when Syvek’s actually asleep, I’m so exhausted that I can barely keep my eyes open. Of course, Spock’s a damned Vulcan, who doesn’t require the same amount of sleep as a human does. God, Bones, I’m sleeping beside the second hottest guy on the ship, and we’ve only gotten each other off twice. And that’s counting when we made Syvek!”

They were both silent for several minutes when something finally clicked in McCoy’s head. “Let me see if I’ve got this right. You love him, he probably loves you, and you’re afraid to bond with him because you think it will rob you of your mental privacy.”

“Yes, except for the part where you think he ‘probably loves’ me,” Kirk sighed.

Bones’ eyebrow shot up. “When you first told me the story of what happened on that screwy planet, you told me he said he wasn’t sure what love felt like but that he felt something beyond friendship for you? And that he said he could love you after a while?”


“Jim, from a guy like Spock, that’s practically a declaration of unconditional love!”

For the first time since the conversation had begun, Kirk felt a small sense of hope.

But McCoy wasn’t finished. “Now the only problem is that you’re afraid he’ll read your mind all the time.” Kirk nodded. “Problem solved. If a bond would allow him to read the thoughts of the other person without establishing a meld, he wouldn’t have needed to meld with Syvek.” He sat back and smiled, feeling very self-satisfied.

Kirk stood suddenly and slammed his glass down atop the desk. He turned and dashed out the door, barely hearing Bones’ parting, “You’re welcome!”


Gathering his thoughts at the door before entering, Kirk took a deep breath. He strode in with confidence to speak with Spock. Spock, who wasn’t sitting at the desk. Wasn’t on their sofa. Wasn’t in bed. Wasn’t in their bathroom.

Suddenly Kirk didn’t feel quite so confident. Doubt and fear swirled together and settled into the pit of his stomach as he slowly approached the connecting door between Syvek’s room and the bathroom. Bracing himself for whatever he might find beyond that door, be it Syvek alone, Syvek and Spock, or (please don’t let it be) no one, Kirk hit the door trigger.

His eyes didn’t immediately adjust to the relative darkness in the nursery, and he felt a brief touch of terror just before he heard Spock’s voice.

“Do not worry, little one,” Spock was whispering to the infant and stroking his cheek where they sat in the rocking chair Scotty had built for them. “If Daddy declines my proposal, we will find a Vulcan healer who can show him your bond and teach him to use it. We will find a way for you to experience the touch of his beautiful mind. You need not suffer the pain of rejection on my behalf.”

Kirk knew he should say something, alert Spock to his presence, but he was riveted to the spot, unseen by Syvek or Spock.

Spock continued. “Your daddy is truly a magnificent human. Try not to let his emotions upset you; he feels them rather deeply but tends to hide them even deeper. He is much like a Vulcan in that respect. You will both learn how to control your own emotions more effectively so that you may function efficiently, but I will not require you to purge all emotion from within yourself. I do not desire for you to do so.

“I was not considered to be a true Vulcan by some when I was a child; my human half was often ridiculed by peers and even elders. I spent years attempting to rid myself of emotion and even considered undergoing Kolinahr, but I now know that to have done so would have prevented my current situation. If I had been successful in purging my emotions, I would not have entered Starfleet. I would not have met your daddy, and worse yet, you would not exist.

“Your childhood will not be free from pain, for such an occurrence would be not only most unusual, but would likely cause significant damage to your development. No, there will be pain, but you will also know joy, pride, curiosity, affection, and love. You will never doubt that you are loved. Both of your parents love you more than you can imagine, more than even we can comprehend.

“So do not fret, Syvek. Your existence is still a surprising one, and it cannot readily be explained by any science we have discovered, but neither Jim nor I would trade it for the universe. Whether I can make your daddy as happy as he has made me remains to be seen, but know that you will always have a loving family to care for you.”

Kirk stood still, barely breathing. He didn’t want Spock to know he’d been listening this whole time or to think he’d been eavesdropping, but he couldn’t just leave without alerting Spock with the sound of the door. And those words… That eloquent speech Spock had made to their son, that speech about Kirk and love and childhood and emotion and love and Kirk… He was nearly lightheaded with the amount of tenderness that Spock’s thoughts and words revealed.

His selfish motivation for wanting to avoid the bond shamed him. He had jumped to conclusions about the nature of the bond, a completely unknown subject to him, and hadn’t stopped to ask Spock about what it would entail. He’d heard the word “matrimonial” and bolted.

Decision made, he reopened the door behind him and stepped noisily into the room to alert the occupants to his presence.

Syvek was nearly asleep, so Spock rose and set him in his crib. Kirk followed him through to their shared quarters, and they both sat at the small table usually reserved for chess.

Kirk spoke first. “I have some questions I need you to answer before I can make my decision.” Spock nodded and gestured for him to continue. “Will this bond be like a permanent meld? What is the nature of a matrimonial bond?

“Having never experienced such a bond myself, I can only give you repsonses based upon my own logical deductions and the few secondhand testimonies I have heard.”

Kirk thought for a while about what he’d discussed with McCoy. He thought about his own revelations during that conversation and those he’d had as he listened to Spock talking to Syvek. Suddenly aware that Spock seemed somewhat uncomfortable, uncertain even, he stood and went to Spock’s side, taking the Vulcan’s face between his hands.

“I love you. If someone were to collect all the affection, desire, attraction, and admiration I’ve had for all of my past partners combined and multiply it by Graham’s number, it wouldn’t come close to approaching the amount of love I feel for just your little finger.”

He pressed his lips against Spock’s in a chaste, tender kids. When he pulled back, he brought his hands down to rest on Spock’s strong shoulders.

“It scares me, how much I love you. It’s as if I have a 7 card and a 9 card, and the dealer is showing a 6. Commonly accepted wisdom states that I should stand because it’s risky to hit on a 16 when the dealer is showing 6 or lower, but it’s just as risky to stand on a 16. If the dealer wins, I could lose everything. But if the dealer busts, I win more than I ever thought I could. Problem with that is that I’m a gambling man. I can’t resist a good game. What if I lose it all in the next round? What if I don’t know when to get out? What if I get stuck in the game? What happens when someone else wants to play? What if I have to play to save the ship, the crew?”

Spock considered the deluge of questions carefully, and he replied, “I regret to say that, as I am unfamiliar with the game of poker, I cannot adequately answer your queries. Could you rephrase them without using a metaphor?”

Kirk laughed. “First of all, I was talking about blackjack. But what I’m saying is that I’m afraid I’ll mess this up. If I do, I’ll lose everything I care about. Everything.”

“Jim, we will work through any problems we face together. I refuse to give up where you are concerned, especially now that we have a son. Please take some time to reflect upon your feelings and come to a decision. I will not attempt to rush your conclusion.”

“Thanks,” Jim smiled. “Let’s go to bed, then.”


Kirk felt that he needed to know what he would be getting into if he agreed to the bond. What would a psi-null being feel, and how would it affect the Vulcan to whom the being was bonded? He could think of one person who could answer these questions.

That was how he came to be in the somewhat awkward position of having a vid conference with Spock’s mother, asking about her bond with Sarek.

“Does he hear your thoughts all the time?”

Amanda smiled. “No, he does not. We can both sense the other’s emotions and, to a certain extent, physical sensations. For example, if we are at a formal reception and one of us is caught in conversation with someone uninteresting, the other will sense that person’s discomfort. Once, several months into our marriage, I was speaking with the Holy Justice of Blandovia at a dinner celebration, and the justice was boring me almost to tears with a description of the Blandovian legal system. Sarek felt my boredom, approached us, and asked me to join him on a walk.”

“I never knew he was such a romantic,” laughed Kirk. “What do you mean when you say you can sense physical sensations?”

She smirked, lines crinkling at the corners of her eyes. “Imagine being able to detect the physical status of your partner. Not only would you know when to attend to him in sickness, but you would be able to detect pleasurable feelings as well.” She glanced around before leaning closer to the screen and lowering her voice. “The bond makes for the most mind blowing sexual relationship you can imagine.”

Kirk’s jaw dropped, and his eyes widened. “Oh… Kay…” He didn’t need a mirror to tell him he was blushing.

“Mother?” croaked a voice to his side. He turned to see that he wasn’t the only one blushing furiously. Spock must have entered just in time for that comment.

“Greetings, Spock,” she said warmly. “I assume you heard that last remark.”

Spock moved into the view of the camera so that he was visible over Kirk’s shoulder. He intended to say something, though he was not sure what he would say, but he was cut off by his mother’s delighted exclamation.

“Syvek! There’s my grandbaby!” Spock looked down at the child in his arms. He had forgotten he’d been holding the baby when he decided to show himself to his mother. It seemed this vid conference would be much longer than Kirk had intended.


With the baby napping, Kirk took advantage of the quiet moment to approach Spock about their discussion regarding the matrimonial bond.

“I talked to your mother to find out about her observations of and experiences with the matrimonial bond. I’ve come to a decision.”

Spock set down the data PADD and stood to look Kirk in the eye.

“Let’s do it. It won’t be easy, but I’ll never stop loving you. We’ll work through all the difficult things that happen and end up stronger as a result. While I am not sure if I trust myself to do the right thing all the time, I know that a life without you is not one that I would like to suffer.”

He was frozen for a moment, but Spock quickly regained his senses enough to embrace his captain, soon to be his husband. “Thank you, Jim,” he whispered.




1 month old


Spock paused in writing his report to attempt to identify the strange sound he’d heard emanating from the bathroom. He listened. There was a large, noisy intake of breath and then, “Pbbbbbbbbt,” followed by a small laugh. Curious, he stood and went to the door. He watched Kirk inhale and bend over to press his lips to Syvek’s bare abdomen where he laid on the changing table. Kirk then exhaled, buzzing his lips on the infant’s belly and eliciting a loud giggle.


Kirk straightened and turned to Spock with a huge grin on his face.

“Hey! Isn’t his laugh adorable?” He turned back to Syvek and cooed, “Yes it is! Your laugh is so cute!” He leaned down and touched their noses together, laughing when his son grabbed at his nose.

“What is the purpose of such an action on your port, Jim?”

Kirk shrugged. “I just like to see him smile. And it’s easier to change a happy baby’s diaper.” He handed Syvek to Spock and washed his hands, meeting Spock’s eyes in the mirror and saying, “It’s time for me to get to work.” After drying, he kissed both of his boys and strode out of the rooms.


Kirk entered his quarters after his shift to relieve Spock and send him to his own shift. When they had decided to adjust the schedule to allow them to work different shifts, Kirk had offset the science station shift rotation by 15 minutes to allow himself time to get to his quarters to take Syvek from Spock and to allow Spock to get to the bridge.

He entered quietly, unsure whether or not Syvek would be sleeping, but instead of encountering Spock and their baby, he found the room empty.

He turned toward the bathroom just as a high-pitched squeal pierced the air, coming from the direction of the bathroom. When he reached the door and looked in, he had to grin to himself.


It seemed that Spock also enjoyed hearing their boy laugh.

3 months old

“Bones, this book says he should be rolling over by three months, but he isn’t! What’s wrong with him?”

McCoy groaned. The chronometer glowing in his room read 2:31. He glared accusatorily at the intercom that had woken him. “Jim, why the hell are you calling me at 2:31? No, better yet, why are you testing Syvek’s development at 2:31?”

“Oh God, you’re deflecting! Spock! Why is he deflecting? Bones, what the hell is wrong with my baby? Is he paralyzed? Oh shit, his heart is racing!” Kirk had passed “hysterical” and was heading for “anxiety attack.”

Bones sat up. “Spock? Are you there? Why are you letting him call me at this hour with these questions?”

Spock’s cool voice replied, “Doctor, I believe Jim is somewhat delirious from lack of sleep.”

“Seriously? Why are you both awake?”

“It is interesting that you should ask, Dr. McCoy. Jim insists that we both rise and attend to Syvek every time he awakens during the night.” Spock’s formal tone hinted at exactly what his opinion was on the subject. “It seems to be necessary to inform you yet again, Jim, that Syvek’s heart rate is well within the normal limits of his Vulcan biology.”

“Jim,” the doctor sighed, “go to sleep. Your kid is fine. Three months is a general estimate, not a finish line. All babies are different. Let Spock deal with the kid at night; you know he doesn’t need as much sleep as you do. Oh, and let me sleep at night, too, will you?”

4 months old

A warm tongue was working its way down Kirk’s body. It twisted and swirled upon the skin above his sternum, zigzagged across his abdomen, lapped at his navel. There was a soft hip at his left hip and warm breath on his erection. His hands fell to Spock’s shoulders, and he shuddered as he felt them begin to lower.

A sudden cry pierced the air, and Kirk found himself jerking awake with a gasp Spock laid at his side, still dozing. The baby monitor, which was set up on Kirk’s nightstand, was blaring in Kirk’s ear.

Annoyed that Spock was sleeping through this (he glanced at the clock and groaned) 3:14 am wake up call, he set the monitor on the pillow by Spock’s ear and maxed the volume.

Spock shot up, startled out of his sleep.

You go see what’s wrong,” Kirk ordered. “I was about to have a sex dream.”

Spock raised an eyebrow, unimpressed, as Kirk rolled over and pouted.

5 months old

“Captain Kirk to Bridge.” Kirk’s tone of voice verged on panicked, almost desperate.

Spock hit the button on the captain’s chair intercom unit. “Spock here.”

“Oh thank god you’re there.” His voice was accompanied by the grating sound of a crying infant. “I can’t get your child to stop crying!”

“Jim,” Spock sighed, “as I have explained before, it is most illogical to deny your own claim to parenthood when you are emotionally compromised. The fact that our son is crying does not make him any less yours. It might make him more yours than mine.”

Spock’s eyes travelled around the bridge to glare at any crewmembers whose snickers hadn’t been muffled well enough to escape the Vulcan’s superior hearing.

Kirk sighed. “I know that, Spock. But I’ve been down here for 3 hours, one of which has been spent trying to make this thing be quiet! He’s driving me crazy!”

“Captain, this is not the proper place to have this discussion, and there is not likely to be anything I could do that would yield different results. I suggest you take the child to Dr. McCoy if you think he is unwell.” Spock’s tone was final, and he punctuated his suggestion by ending the link.

He had barely removed his hand when the unit flared back to life.

“Spock! Don’t you hang up on me!”

The XO clenched his jaw. “Is there something you require, Captain?”

“I already took him to McCoy. He said nothing was wrong.”

“I thank you for the update. Will that be all?”

Spock’s cold tone was starting to grate on Kirk’s nerves. He transferred Syvek to his other hip, wincing as the boy let out a particularly loud screech. “No, that will not be all! He won’t. Shut. Up!”

“Quite an irritating characteristic, no doubt,” Spock replied in a clipped tone. “Have you attempted to feed him?”

“Yes,” Kirk answered, rolling his eyes. “He’s already eaten.”

“Have you changed him?”


“Have you put him down to sleep?”

“Yes! I’m not a damned fool, Spock! I rocked him; I sang to him;” – and here Kirk ignored the involuntary snort that had filtered from Spock’s end of the link to his – “I read to him; I played with him; I bounced him up and down; I swung him around; I – “

“Jim!” Spock interrupted, stopping the hysterical tirade.


Syvek still cried in the background.

“How did you rock him?”

“What? On the rocking chair…?”

“In what position did you hold him?”

“I tried cradling him in my arms, holding him on my lap, and holding him against my shoulder. He screamed the whole time. Why does it matter?”

“Try holding him upright upon your lap, facing you.”

There was some angry mumbling and shuffling as Kirk made his way to the rocking chair. Spock waited a few moments, listening to the hushed sounds of the bridge.


“It worked!” Jim exclaimed. “Hey, buddy! Look at that smile! You look so happy now,” he cooed. “Do you like sitting like this? Aren’t you glad I figured it out? Your daddy is so smart!”

Spock’s eyes flicked to the ceiling in his approximation of a human’s eye roll as he ended the transmission again.

16 months old

“Zizzizz gubult,” said Syvek, nodding.

“Is that so? Where did you hear that?” Kirk asked, interested.

“Ummmm, azzizuz wuzhabuzh.”

“Hmm, that’s not a very neutral source. Almost sounds like something from Fox Intergalactic News.”

“Dabbab. Doo. Gub,” was the sage reply.

“Now that’s a point I’ve never considered.”


The sound of a throat clearing brought both Kirks’ attention to the presence of Spock, whose curious eyebrow seemed to suggest that he’d been listening for a little while.

“Hey, we’re just about done,” Kirk told him. “Right buddy?” he asked Syvek.

“Umm, wubbuh zuggle,” the baby said seriously.

Kirk picked him up from the changing table in their bathroom and carried him toward the door. He stopped in front of Spock and gave him a quick peck.

Noting the slight furrow in his lover’s brow, Kirk explained his and Syvek’s conversation to Spock with a simple, “Meaningless conversation. Just an illogical human behavior,” before leaving the bathroom, laughing.

20 months old

“Is your diaper wet, Syvek?” Kirk asked as he and Spock prepared to take their son to the officer’s mess for lunch.

“No,” was the quiet reply.

“Is it stinky?”


“Right…” he said, approaching the toddler. He felt the kid’s diaper, finding it somewhat squishy. He sighed and picked him up. As he passed him to Spock, he said, “Change him, will you?”

“Very well.”

Laying the child on the changing table in the bathroom, Spock attempted to understand the rationale behind their son’s lie.

“Syvek,” he started, discarding the wet diaper in the garbage chute, “do you enjoy the sensation of sitting in your own waste?” Syvek blinked, and Spock rephrased his question. “Does a wet diaper feel good?”

Syvek shook his head.

“Does a dry diaper feel good?”

Syvek nodded.

“Why do you not tell us when you need to be changed?” Spock lifted the boy to a standing position and pulled up his pants.

Syvek shrugged.

“Illogical,” Spock muttered as they rejoined Kirk. Syvek reached for Kirk, who pulled him into his arms.

After hugging his daddy, Syvek turned to Spock, a serious look on his little face. “Not evewyfing is lodical, Fahver.”

21 months old

Kirk sat in front of his 21-month-old baby. Syvek was in his high chair, lunch set out on his tray. He had eaten one piece of a green bean and two bites of his grilled cheese sandwich and had taken a few drinks of milk. The diced apples were untouched.

“You are the slowest eater I’ve seen in my entire life. What is wrong? I know you like this stuff.”

Syvek simply stared at him with a slight smile on his face.

Kirk gathered some apples on the boy’s spoon and brought it close to his mouth. Syvek turned his head away.

“Oh come on! Try it! They’re apples. Just like applesauce. You love apples!”

“No.” There was still something so precious about his son’s tiny voice. Kirk knew the novelty would wear off soon, especially where the “n-word” was concerned, but for now the sound of his child’s high-pitched voice never failed to melt him a little.

“Just try them!” he pleaded.


Kirk sighed. “Are you all done?”


Kirk was exasperated. “Then eat, for crying out loud! I know you like it! And I made it just as Father does. American cheese, wheat bread, real butter, and barely toasted on both sides.”

Spock and Kirk had decided early on that they wanted their son to eat only natural foods. As much as possible, they avoided the replicator. They would stick with canned fruits and vegetables, when fresh weren’t available, that had no preservatives. The men purchased dairy fresh and in bulk when they visited a planet that supported the proper creatures. Freezing cheese was somewhat more difficult than freezing milk, but they managed.

Keeping their son on a natural diet was costly but logical. Their parents approved strongly of the endeavor and aided them as well as they could. Spock’s mother would bake dozens of loaves of bread; his father used some of his political influence to arrange occasional deliveries to starbases near the Enterprise’s location, once to the Enterprise itself; Kirk’s mom provided the canned food and sometimes a little something extra for Kirk and Spock.

“Jim,” said Spock, interrupting his latest attempt to convince Syvek to eat more food.

“Spock! I didn’t hear you come in. Is it lunch time already?”

“It is 13:15,” Spock replied evenly. Nevertheless, Kirk wasn’t fooled. He heard the undercurrent of his tone, the unasked question of ‘Why is this happening?’

“Oh,” said Kirk. He glanced around nervously, feeling like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. His eyes settled on Syvek, who was now looking down at his food, interested in it for the first time. He wasn’t actually eating it, but he was looking.

“May I ask why Syvek is not yet napping?”

“He won’t eat! I don’t know why. He likes green beans, apples, and grilled cheese, but he’s only had a few bites.”

“You are no doubt aware that his afternoon nap is to take place at precisely 12:30.”

“Well, he won’t eat!” Kirk hated the part of himself that felt guilty for messing up the precious schedule, but he couldn’t, and wouldn’t, starve his kid.

“Jim,” Spock began, softening his tone when he sensed the conflict within Kirk, “the child is quite intelligent and quite stubborn. He is delaying his nap. He will sit here for hours if he believes it will excuse him from his nap.”

Surprised, Kirk looked at Syvek. His head was ducked over his tray, but Kirk could see his grin.

“Well, I can’t put him down hungry!”

“He will eat when he wakes.”

Kirk sighed. “You try to feed him before I put him down.”

“I would first like to remind you that we had an appointment set for 1300 hours.” Taking in the blank look on Kirk’s face, he added, “In supply closet 5 on deck 3.”

Recognition dawned in Kirk’s eyes. Without a word, he pulled Syvek out of his high chair and carried him into Spock’s old quarters. He laid him down in his crib and covered him with his satiny Periodic Table blankie. Re-emerging from the adjoining bathroom, he grabbed Spock’s hand and pulled him into the corridor in the direction of the turbolift that would lead them to deck three.

25 months old

“Do you need to use the facilities before we depart?”

“No!” Syvek shouted, running toward the turbolift.

Spock caught up to him easily, using his much longer stride to his advantage. He knelt to his 2-year-old’s eye level.

“Syvek, once the shuttle embarks, you will not be able to relieve yourself for 2.3 hours. I believe that you should attempt to empty your bladder.”

“No, Fahver,” the boy sighed, almost sounding exasperated.

Spock let out a similar sigh. “Very well, son.” He held out his hand, which Syvek gripped obediently. When they entered the lift, Syvek pulled on Spock’s trousers. Spock picked him up and allowed him to hold the control lever. “Shuttle bay.”

Kirk was waiting inside the shuttle bay, overseeing the loading of their luggage. Syvek squirmed until Spock set him down, and he ran to his daddy as quickly as his chubby legs would carry him.

“Daddy!” he squealed when Kirk picked him up and swung him around.

“Hey, buddy. You about ready to go?” Syvek nodded. “Need to go potty first?” He nodded again.

“Syvek,” Spock began, “I asked you the same question 2.74 minutes ago, and your response was negative.”

“Nuh-uh!” Syvek shook his head vehemently.

“Syvek…” said Kirk in a warning tone.

“He dinnint!” the boy cried. “He’s lying!”

Spock bristled at the accusation. “Vulcans do not lie. Lying is illogical.”

“I gotta go potty,” Syvek whined, bouncing in Kirk’s grasp.

He set the child down, smiling as he watched Syvek run in the direction of the nearest head. Looking over to Spock, he saw that his lover was vaguely perturbed, the expression on his face was Spock’s equivalent of a pout. Kirk reached out his fingers and brushed them against two of Spock’s.

“I did ask,” Spock murmured.

“And I believe you, but what exactly did you say to him?”

“I asked if he needed to use the facilities, and he said, ‘No.’ I reminded him that the duration of the shuttle ride would be 2.3 hours and suggested that he attempt to empty his bladder.”

Kirk’s chuckles had grown steadily louder throughout Spock’s explanation. Spock raised an eyebrow to the captain, silently asking what was causing the reaction.

“Oh, Spock,” Kirk laughed. “If we’re ever going to get this kid potty trained, we’ve got to work on our terminology. It’s not the ‘facilities;’ it’s the potty. You can’t tell him to ‘relieve himself’ or ‘empty his bladder.’ Ask if he needs to go potty or pee or poop. The word ‘urinate,’ or any of its cognates, will not work for a 2-year-old. And don’t try 'defecate,' 'excrement,' 'stool,' 'waste,' or anything else like that. Stick to short words that he can actually pronounce.” Spock continued to regard him silently, eyebrow still raised. Kirk smiled. “Trust me.”

Spock sighed. “Very well, Jim.”

Syvek came running back to his parents. “All done! Let’s go!”

Spock offered the child a small smile. “Did you wash your hands?”

The boy hesitated. “Yes.”

Kirk grabbed the small hands and found them completely dry. “Go wash your hands.”

2 years, 9 months, 14 days old

“Syvek, please remain seated while I refill your glass.” Spock eyed his son before heading across the mess hall to retrieve another glass of milk. Kirk was planet side on Shentai II with a medical away team, aiding with the CMO’s treatment of Fardonian chrysothanium poisoning victims, so Spock and Syvek were spending the day together.

After spending half an hour that morning in the ship’s pool attempting to teach the boy to swim, Spock had returned with Syvek to their quarters so they could shower and dress. Arguing with the toddler over his decision to wear tan khaki pants with the top half of his pink dinosaur costume (minus the hood) had proven fruitless.

The two had visited the arboretum for a cursory lesson on biology that quickly became an impromptu (that is, one-sided) game of hide and seek. It had only taken Spock 1.3 minutes to locate the child, who had somehow managed to camouflage himself, pink clothing and all, in an Andorian shrub, but Syvek had managed to “lose” his shoes during that time.

By the time Spock located the shoes, buried – buried! – under a Terran oak tree, his control was wavering. Though it was somewhat earlier than Syvek’s usual lunchtime, his father was ready to have a couple of hours to himself during the boy’s afternoon nap, so they went to lunch.

Spock had barely begun filling the empty glass when he heard his son’s excited voice.

“I’m naked! I’m naked!”

Steeling his shoulders and taking a deep breath, Spock turned to see his son (no, ¬Kirk’s son, because despite all the times he’d told Jim it was illogical to deny parenthood based on a behavior, this streak of exhibitionism was all Jim) standing on the table in his underwear.


The boy turned and smiled. “Iss Girls Gone Wild! Wooo!” he yelled, shimmying and shaking his chest.

Snickers and laughter erupted throughout the mess hall. This seemed only to encourage the child, who began to strut along the length of the table. Spock grabbed him and retrieved the discarded clothing from the ground.

“Whass wrong, Father? Iss Daddy’s favorite holo!”

Spock didn’t answer, just stalked out of the room with clothing in one arm and a mostly-naked boy under the other.

3 yrs, 11 days old
“What’s this for?” Syvek asked, holding a strange Y-shaped object.

“Stethoscope. It’s for listening to a patient’s heart and lungs.”

Syvek frowned as he considered McCoy’s answer. “Why do you listen to them? What do they say?”

“They don’t ¬say anything, kid. A doctor listens to the sounds the heart and lungs make so he can tell if they’re working properly.”

“What about this?”

“Otoscope. It’s used to examine the ear canal or ear drum.”




“Blood pressure cuff.”


“Reflex hammer.”




“Syringe. Look, are we about done here?” Bones asked, glancing into the bag of pretend doctor toys he had regrettably given to Syvek for his third birthday last week.

“No way!” Syvek yelled, aghast. “Get your ass back on that biobed! Your exam has not even started.”

Bones sighed before reclining on his couch, almost regretting allowing the kid to observe his own bedside manner. Small, soft hands pushed his shirt up his chest and picked up the plastic reflex hammer.

“Oof!” McCoy coughed, startled by the strength of the three-year-old’s thrust of the hammer into his stomach. “It’s not for stomachs!”

“Do not make me setate you,” the ‘doctor’ threatened, dangerously wielding the toy syringe.

“Sedate,” Bones corrected, wondering why he had gone with the vintage equipment style instead of a toy medical tricorder.

If the kid was this bad at three, what would he be like at 13? Bones sighed wearily and fell back on the bed, allowing Syvek to continue his exam. He could make it through this. 

"You need bitamins," Syvek announced, but McCoy barely had time to translate "bitamins" into "vitamins" before he was unconscious.

Apparently he needed to calm down with the hyposprays. The kid had jammed the toy syringe into his neck hard enough for it to act as a Vulcan nerve pinch.


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