Disclaimer: Characters/situations/Dialogue you recognize was all borrowed from someone else's brainchild. Everything else is my fangirlish ramblings.

This was written to fill a prompt on the Star Trek Xi Kink Meme http:// community. /st_xi_kink_meme ?thread =6162145#t6162145 (remove the spaces) Hopefully this does the trick. Enjoy!

When Amanda Grayson had agreed to be a surrogate mother for her friend Winona Kirk and her husband George after it was discovered that Winona was unable to sustain any pregnancy to term, she had never imagined that nine months later both Kirk's would be dead on board the USS Kelvin, and she'd be giving birth to an orphan. Now though, after her labour was done and the small, pink, human body was cradled in her arms, she allowed herself to grieve for him, for this tiny boy who had no family left in the world. In fact, the only people he had were Amanda herself, her husband Sarek, and her own son Spock, who was barely a chubby toddler himself. Both of whom, were in fact utterly fascinated by the small squirming bundle in her arms. It could even be said that both males were captivated, Spock reaching out a pudgy hand in childish curiosity, making a soft sound of awe when the newborn grasped his larger forefinger in a tight grip. Amanda warmed at the sight, an idea building in the back of her mind.

"Sarek…" She did not even have a chance to ask before her husband was replying.

"Yes, Ashayam." Amanda tried not to boggle at him in surprise, but she must have, because he continued. "The boy has no one else, and you wish us to raise him. That is acceptable."

"It is illogical." Amanda's tone was soft, and she knew her brilliant husband was understand all the connotations she wasn't stating outright, would understand all the difficulties and trials they had accepted when decided to have Spock would be doubled by raising a fully human child, one who was obviously not even blood kin. The council alone could make a sound argument for them turning the baby over to a Federation orphanage; as a Starfleet orphan the boy would probably be well provided for. But Amanda knew his parents, had loved them as dearest friends, she could love this boy as her own, perhaps already did. She would not surrender him without a fight, and her husband agreed quietly, his hand on the shoulder.

No, she thought as she looked down at both her sons, some families are tied by things deeper than mere biology, and she swore she'd never stop fighting until all the doubters believed it, too.

"His thoughts are soft, and warm." Spock's small, clear voice was full of as much wonder as she'd ever heard, his moon-like face turned towards her. "What is he called?" Despite herself, Amanda smiled.

"James Tiberius." And that was that.

"Jamie has fallen and needs tending." Amanda looked up from the roses she'd been trimming, pushing a stray lock of hair off her face as she moved to face her son. Spock was holding his little brother comfortably; despite the fact that the closeness of their age meant that he was barely bigger than the three year old in his arms. Said three year old had fat tears of pain running down his cheeks, although his face was straight and he didn't make a sound. His brother likewise, appeared mostly unaffected, his concern only visible in his pursed lips and frantic eyes. Standing, she made her way over to the boys, helping Spock set his brother down on the nearest bench before kneeling in front of him to examine the nasty scrape on his knee. Spock, seeming to realize he was crowding her and blocking the light instead climbed up onto the bench himself, scooting over until he was pressed up against his brother's side, the smaller boy leaning into him for comfort, tears slowly drying.

Amanda left the boys in the midday sun for a moment, returning indoors to fetch the med kit, including the small dermal regenerator they kept on hand for just such emergencies. Returning outside, she smiled slightly upon noticing Jamie's small hand clutching tight to Spock's sleeve, tears stopped but small face still pinched in pain. She set about cleaning the wound, gently wiping away blood and dirt before mending it with the regenerator, listening with a small smile as Spock murmured quiet reassurances to his brother in both Vulcan and standard. She finished in just a few short minutes, Jamie mumbling to her in polite gratitude. She returned inside to replace the med kit and wash her hands, taking the time to prepare a small snack and a pitcher of the boy's favorite cool beverage. She joined the boys once more in the bright Vulcan sunshine, were they enjoyed their snack with a quiet conversation, the whole time Jamie's hand never unclenching from his brother's clothes.

When she finally shooed the children off so she could continue pruning her hard-won roses, she watched with a warm heart as Spock swept his brother into his arms, just as before.

"It is illogical that I allow you to risk falling again." She heard her oldest son tell the younger boy as they walked away, Jamie winding small arms about his brother's neck.

"You broke Slovak's nose."

Spock had retreated to his room after the disheartening conversation with his father. If Vulcan's felt, he would be feeling failure and self-recrimination. He had injured another boy in an emotional display, caused his parents to disagree and disappointed his father. Now, as he lifted his chin to meet the piercing blue eyes of his younger brother, he had one more person to answer to for his actions.

"I did." He refused to flinch, even when the words finally re-opened the split in his lip, a small bead of green blood welling up and making its way down his chin. Although his expression changed only marginally, Spock recognized the frown on Jamie's face instantly. His brother stood swiftly, crossing the room and gently blotting at the droplet with the corner of his sleeve. Spock pulled back in consternation at the gesture.

"It is illogical to dirty your clothes in such a fashion." Jamie's not-frown deepened a little further.

"It is illogical to leave your face bleeding when I can fix it. Especially when I'm part of the reason you got into the fight in the first place!" Jamie's emotional control, while impressive for a young human was tenuous at best by Vulcan standards, and it was slipping badly, revealing his agitation. Spock sought to reassure him instinctively.

"It was a failure on my part, an emotional lapse of control I won't allow again." Jamie twitched in such a way that told Spock the other boy was dying to roll his eyes, or snort out loud, or any other very human emotional response he'd inherited from both his biology and their mother's example.

"He called our father a traitor, our mother a whore, and implied that I should have been terminated in utero. I'd say he had it coming. Besides, I overheard the instructors speaking afterwards, and apparently he cried like a small terran female."

This time Jamie's wicked grin was undeniable. Despite himself, Spock felt a surge of righteous vindication, and while he forbade himself from any outward displays, his younger brother knew him too well, and the smirk widened. Suddenly ashamed again of his obvious reactions, Spock carefully dismissed the emotion. Like a small window, Jamie's previously open face shuttered closed as well in response. Spock couldn't help but marvel a little, secretly and on the inside, at how sensitive his brother was to him, without the benefit of Vulcan blood, including their usual touch-telepathy. Jamie, while capable of utilizing the coolest of Vulcan logic like a sharp-bladed weapon when required, was always at his finest when reacting with his human intuition first, using logic as a solid backup for his so-called emotional "leaps of faith." Spock knew it had frustrated and baffled more than one instructor and council member over the years, but Jamie had always been as devoted as possible to holding his composure in public, so no one had ever had serious grounds to protest his awkward position as the second son of Ambassador Sarek and his Human wife. Alone like this though, Jamie was animated and unrestrained, laughing and snarling and crying as he felt with untold depths of passion. It had always been their compromise, beyond these walls they were proud Vulcan's, born and raised. In here, together they are human, or as human as they dared.

"Teach me."

"No!" Spock's reflexive response had contained more heat than intended. "You are human; you lack the physical strength and resiliency necessary to successfully master the same martial arts I have studied." The response we even and perfectly logical, but both boys knew that truthfully, Spock was terrified of hurting the younger boy, and equally terrified by what Jamie might use the knowledge for, later.

"Spock, seriously, now you're just regurgitating the arguments the council members used to keep me out of the official classes. While my opportunities and freedoms may be more restricted than yours, the expectations of proper behavior placed on you by our society are much more stringent than the ones placed on me. In fact, most of them seem to think of me as nothing more than a particularly intelligent, bipedal animal in traditional Vulcan robe. My indiscretions are mostly ignored or written off as the unfortunate byproduct of my Terran biology. Teach me to fight, so next time they open their mouths I can shut them up, and no one will be able to accuse you." Jamie burned with sincerity, and Spock felt unusually humbled by his brother's protective instincts.

"They will know who taught you, Jamie." The protest was token; they both knew by Spock's tone and the use of his brother's favorite nickname was indicative of agreement. Jamie just grinned and fluttered a hand dismissively in the air.

"Do you think their Vulcan pride would actually let them admit to getting a beat down from a human, if it came to that?" Jamie's eyes were intent, and Spock looked away under the sudden heavy speculation. Little by little things had been changing. The older they got, the more pressure they encountered from all sides, the harder it had been to hold true to the patterns of youth, and they both knew it. Today something had changed irrevocably. Gathering his resolve and stepping forward to show his brother the first stance, Spock knew he'd fight with all he had to keep outside forces from pulling his family apart.

"Spock. May we speak?"

Spock felt his shoulders tense involuntarily, and without breaking stride or turning he diverted to a more reclusive corner of the bustling Vulcan spaceport. Finally facing the other male he allowed what Jamie called "his best Vulcan face" slip a little, softening with affection and concern for the younger teen. His eyes roved over Jamie's tight expression, noting his veiled anger and the duffle bag slung over his brother's shoulder.

"James, go home." Inevitably, James bristled.

"No Spock, I get why you turned down the Science academy, and I understand that you fought with father about it, but you don't get to leave without saying goodbye, and I want to go with you." Recognizing an argument brewing, Spock fought to nip it in the bud.

"Jamie, I appreciate your concern, but this is something I need to do alone. You are correct, I should not have left without informing you, but I cannot accept your company at this time." James deflated then, understanding his brother in ways Spock had always been in wonder of. In all his life, even his mother had never had such a thorough familiarity with his very soul as his brother did.

"Two years, Spock. I'll give you two years, until I've completed my standard education. Then I'll be joining Starfleet too, so you'd better be prepared to be seeing me then." James was adamant, and Spock could admit to himself the rush of affection he felt.

"That is acceptable." The expression on Spock's face didn't look like much, but to Jamie it was like the most brilliant smile.

Later, on the shuttle, and during the trying acclimation of his new circumstances, that last conversation shone brightly in all Spock's memories of home.

It had been a long shift, only a couple weeks into his new assignment as Chief Science Officer aboard the USS Yorktown, under Captain Pike. Spock was weary, but pleased. A minor crisis today had shown the crew to be a group of bright, capable people, and Spock was logically very pleased to be a part of them. Despite their impeccable response, it had still left him physically drained, and he looked forward to a quiet evening of rest and meditation. It wasn't until he'd emerged from his sonic shower and donned his sleep clothes that he noticed a message waiting for him. Closer inspection revealed a long-distance comm from Earth. Spock settled in to view the pre-recorded message, the softness of his features was apparent even before his brother's face appeared on the viewscreen. James shifted a little under the watchful eye of the camera; he'd always admitted to feeling a little awkward making pre-recorded messages, and it was obvious, despite his wide grin.

"Dear Spock" he began, as if reciting a letter; and Spock was warmed by his brother's endearing antics.

"Today I returned to Earth after completed my first posting as Navigator aboard the USS Farragut. Despite the excitement and adventure of deep space, I admit to enjoying to feeling of good old terra firma. I made the acquaintance of a new recruit today on the shuttle from Riverside to San Francisco; an accomplished civilian doctor prior to his application, and a colourful character to be sure. I will keep you informed of our doubtless entertaining exploits."

"Mother commed earlier today, she sends her regards. Father's still being stubborn and refused to speak to us, but I noticed him lurking in the background, so you know he cares in his very proper Vulcan way." Here, he faltered a bit, and when he resumed it was with a more casual air.

"I was hoping you'd be here, but the Yorktown's a good opportunity for you, and I know you'll do well. I've been contracted to spend some time on a quick tour with a diplomatic vessel, then I'll be grounded in a teaching position, most likely until the Enterprise ships out, if the Admiralties not-so-subtle hints are anything to go by. You too most likely, considering your excellent service record. If Pike get's captaincy like it's rumoured he will, I can bet you'll make XO. In the meantime, stay safe, and come back a more wise and experienced men than before, as I know you'll do. I miss you, bro. Sincerely, Lieutenant Kirk." There was a second more of Jamie fidgeting, before the message cut out.

I was with a duality of melancholy and elation that Spock went about composing his reply, postponing his restful evening in favour of his familial obligations. Obligations, he could admit, he was more than amenable to fulfilling.

"We must gather with the rest of Starfleet... to balance the terms of the next engagement!"

"There won't BE a next engagement! By the time we've gathered, it'll be too late! But you say he's from the future and knows what's gonna happen? Then the logical thing is to be unpredictable!" Kirk was fighting his temper with every word, desperately trying to make his argument as concisely, as logically as possible to the man before him. Looking at the perfectly composed Vulcan features, disdain apparent only in the slightest cant of an eyebrow, Jim figured he was probably failing.

"You are assuming that Nero knows how events are predicted to unfold, the contrary. Nero's very presence has altered the flow of history, beginning with the attack on the USS Kelvin, culminating in the events of today, thereby creating an entire new chain of incidents that cannot be anticipated by either party. "

"An alternate reality..." Jim barely spared a glance towards Uhura when she spoke, busily trying to stare down the acting Captain… who wasn't even paying attention.

"Precisely. Whatever our lives might have been if the time continuum was disrupted, our destinies have changed." Silence fell over the bridge for a moment at that declaration. Jim thought about the biological parent's he'd never known, the one's that had been murdered by the very madman that was now threatening Earth, and had already destroyed Vulcan. Jim thought about the thousands of ways things would have been different for him had they lived, had Nero never appeared at all. Standing there on the bridge of Starfleet's newest flagship, Jim pondered Butterfly effects and brotherhood and the importance of family that ran deeper than mere genetics. The thought of a lifetime's worth of everything that had mattered, and did the only thing he could do.

He laughed, loudly, the sound causing the entire command team whiplashing about to face him. When he finished it was with the universe's largest shit-eating grin that he addressed them.

"So, we're not who we should be, is what you're telling me? None of this was meant to happen? Fine, I can buy that. I can agree that somehow, that one goddamn maniac in his oversized boat changed the face of the entire universe simply by falling backwards in time, yeah, sure, ok. But I'm missing the part where we're all meant to lie back, put our legs in the air and let him continue to fuck us over!"

Jim was on a roll now, pacing energetically, making eye contact around the room. He was hyper aware of Spock's heavy unyielding gaze on him, the other man knowing too well that he could not be stopped once he reached this level of momentum, and willing to let his human counterpart make his point, before attempting to tear it to shreds. This was one argument however, that he had in the bag.

"You want logic, Spock? Fine here's logic for you; Nero, having just destroyed the entire secondary fleet and committed genocide in response to some threat, real or perceived, that hasn't even occurred yet, is now on his way to Earth. Our home, and the location of the Starfleet Academy and another major federation power. Doubtless, his plan is to continue with the raining down of death and destruction. Tell me, after Earth, where will he go next? I'd bet my future firstborn that he's not planning on going home to Romulus for some tea and a nap. He's already proven that he has a black hole device, and is not afraid to use it, so what's stopping him from continuing on down the line? Nothing, I tell you, not the threat of the Fleet, not the innocent lives lost in the process, nothing. He's going to keep going, until every planet in the Federation falls. Hell, maybe every planet everywhere. Incalculable lives lost, cultures and histories and civilizations destroyed, over and over and over again." Jim took a moment here to draw a breath, and for effect, truth be told.

"If Ensign Chekov's estimations are correct, Earth will be gone in a little less than 14 hours. Reconvening with the fleet in the Laurentian system and organizing some sort of counterattack will take at least 27 hours. By the time we made it back, Nero would be gone, with no way of tracking him down unless we somehow managed to intercept a distress signal from the next target, on its way to where Starfleet used to be. We could spend years chasing him around the Galaxy and beyond even, and never get the upper hand. You're right, Spock, we are outmanned, and outgunned. But we can't be counted out just yet."

"Right now, on this ship, is the best and brightest group of graduates Starfleet's ever seen. This ship itself is the newest and most advanced ever built by the Federation. We know where the Narada is going, and with any luck we have the element of surprise. We also have the most brilliant mind to ever turn down the Vulcan Science Academy in charge." At this, Jim turned and addressed Spock directly, noting the slightest inclination of his head, meaning that the other man was accepting the praise as the Olive branch it was.

"I believe I am the only person to have ever declined the invitation, making your final point moot." Jim smiled now, recognizing the statement as a round-about apology and acceptance of position. Buoyed by his small success and waving a hand in the air, Jim took the bait, speaking lightly.

"Yeah yeah, you're more useful in Starfleet, only a half-Vulcan anyways so their precious record isn't damaged, I was there, I know the story. I still say you're a goddamned rebel and you know it, bro. You guys should've seen it" Jim said, sparing a glance to their audience, "never heard someone make the words 'live long and prosper' sound more like 'fuck off and die painfully' in my life. Anyways, what the hell are we arguing about? We can all agree that as it stands, it's a bad fucking idea going after Nero, with a miniscule chance of success…"

"-2.729 percent, considering current factors."

"…less than three percent, thanks Spock. But what are the chances of stopping him if we don't?" Kirk slid his eyes back to the stoic figure of the Commander, unsurprised to see the finest traces of hesitation in his expression.

"…Less than 0.1622 percent. A nearly guaranteed failure; and Earth will certainly not survive." The tension after Spock's declaration seethed in the utter silence of the bridge. Taking stock of the strained faces around the room, Jim felt his resolve harden, ready to drive the point home.

"Look, Spock, it's a known quantity that I'm a reckless asshole. God knows you've told me enough times in the past. But you know me, I wouldn't do this if it wasn't right, wouldn't endanger the lives of this crew, the Vulcan refugees, and our parents" Jim was sure to stress the words, ignoring the startled gasps from around them. He knew without even having to study his brother's face that their minds had both gone back to that moment on the surface of Vulcan, waiting for their beam-up, watching the ground crumble around them and the momentary panic as it began to shake itself apart under his feet, the inescapable pull of heightened gravity dragging them down. Jim remembered the look on his brother's face, remembered tightening his grip around his mother, remembered waiting for the inevitable drop before stumbling and crashing to his knees on the transport pad, having been saved a fraction of a second from certain death. Shaking off the phantom terror, Jim again spoke to the bridge as a whole.

"I know we've all suffered losses here today, if not on Vulcan than with the destruction of the secondary fleet. I can't speak for anyone else here, but I feel that we owe it to them to end this. If we don't at least try, guys, they'll have died in vain, and as suicidal as it is, if Nero isn't stopped, there won't be anywhere safe in the Galaxy for any of us, or our loved ones. Right now, we're the last, best shot the Universe has." Jim's tone was as heavy as the grave, and every eye is riveted on him, until from behind him, Spock speaks again.

"I hereby resign my position as acting Captain of this ship, as I have been emotionally compromised. Effective immediately, Lieutenant Commander and acting First Officer Kirk will assume my responsibilities. Please note the date and time in the ship's logs."

"WHAT?!?" The simultaneous cry from all over the bridge would have been comical in any other circumstance. As it is, Jim whipped around and faced his brother dead on.

"Tell me you're kidding, Spock! And don't tell me Vulcan's don't kid, you've done it before!" Jim sucked in a deep breath, searching his brother's gaze, but he could see no mirth in the dark eyes.

"I can find no fault with your logic, Jamie." The use of the old nickname tightened something in Jim's chest painfully. Noticing, Spock took a step closer before continuing. "You have suffered as many losses as myself today, and still held yourself up not only as an outstanding officer, but displayed a level of emotional control greater than my own. Many years ago, we had argued about your reckless tendencies, and I accused you of not understanding fear in the face of certain death, but in front of all these witnesses you have proved me wrong. I have also not failed to consider your unusual… talent for succeeding in a no-win scenario. As an officer, it is only logical that I defer command to you for the sake of this vessel and the lives of the crew and civilians on board. As an older brother, I am… humbled." The combination of Spock's words and the pride in his eyes had Jim's own eyes shining with restrained tears.

"…Older brother?" Bones' voice cuts into the moment and both men turn, suddenly uncomfortable under the intense scrutiny. "Damnit Jim! I've done your medical checkups since I joined up, after you hauled my drunken ass off that shuttle. There's no way you're harboring any Vulcan DNA under that golden tan, I'll bet my medical license on it!" Jim grin's cheekily, running a nervous hand through his hair.

"Long story? Tell you all later, y'know, after we save the world?" Turning back to Spock, Jim spoke again. "Look, don't go hiding somewhere, ok? I'm still going to need your help here, I can't do this alone, and you've always been best at watching my back." Jim grinned as Spock nodded in assent.

"I feel it prudent however, to inform you that of all the illogical stunts you've concocted since our childhood, this one undoubtedly is the most reckless and ill-considered of them all." Recognizing the teasing tone, Jim rolled his eyes while responding.

"You've said that so many times the words have lost all meaning, seriously. Besides, we'll come up with a plan, we always do."

"With your permission, we may be of use in that direction." The unidentified voice from the entrance drew the attention of every person on the bridge. Standing there was a man in a knit wool cap and a scruffy winter coat, as well as an elderly Vulcan. An oddly familiar-looking elderly Vulcan, and apparently Jim wasn't the only one who thought so, hearing Uhura's startled breath and Sulu's murmured curse. Now Jim may not have had a Vulcan brain, but his human one was far from lacking, and his admittedly brilliant tactical mind was currently re-evaluating their options based on their new arrivals, and liking the improved odds.

"Awesome." He said, eyes glowing. And really, it was.

Later, after the world was indeed saved, and the Enterprise had returned home, and the mourning was done and Kirk was made Captain and Spock his first officer, after the start of their five-year exploration mission had heralded a handful of close calls and crazy misadventures, Chekov will look up from his console during a slow Alpha shift and say; "Brothers, sir?"

All eyes will move toward the center of the bridge, to where Jamie spins in his chair and smiles at his Science Officer, his XO, and his brother in all but blood.

"Well, it all began many years ago, on Earth, when a young woman named Amanda Grayson met another young woman named Winona Bell at a Xenolinguistics conference in LA…"

Together, they tell their story.