" Ohh…Ho-hum."

Uhura gave a muted snort of amusement, and she rolled her eyes in a cheeky, light-hearted manner. All morning, she'd had the pleasure of overhearing her Russian friend's mumblings and grumblings. With a cheerful smile, the African young woman continued to tap the keypad in front of her, making the computer sing in its lifeless, metallic voice. She adjusted some dials as she did so with a lingering, delicate touch the way she always had. From across the bridge, Chekov sat rather stiffly at his station. His boyish brown eyes, full of lust, were absolutely drawn to those hands. Those long, well-manicured fingers. Young and still very naïve, Chekov often had thoughts about Uhura's hands. Each day, in fact, brought him a new light bulb moment. Sometimes he wondered how she was able to keep her nails so clean and perfect all the time without breaking at least one. Other times, these thoughts were definitely very personal to him, and they were only for him. Like whether or not she could do anything else with her fingers. Things she could do to him. Of course a relationship between them would never have worked. Chekov, and actually a lot of men and women on the Enterprise, knew that so painfully well. But even with this knowledge, it never stopped the fantasies that would form so effortlessly in his mind. Chekov turned his head away before Uhura could catch him gushing over her.

" Rough night, Pavel?" she asked, smiling cheekily. Her eyes didn't leave her computer screen for a nanosecond.

Chekov smiled tiredly in response. He really did feel tired, despite still reeling from his schoolboy crush. He opened his mouth to speak, but he was inadvertently interrupted by a violent, shuddering yawn. In that one deep, overly dramatic intake of breath, Chekov's mouth stretched open so wide that he could have parked an entire starship in it. When he finished, flailing his arms about wildly, he smacked his lips in a way that a child would. As Uhura turned to watch his performance, not knowing what Chekov truly thought of her, a small but definite grin spread across her face. Years, along with fine lines and wrinkles, melted off of her, and her skin just seemed to glow in the light of all that she was. She was even about to unleash her melodious laugh in reaction to her friend's strange ways, but she stopped herself almost immediately. She couldn't hurt his feelings, even if it was in jest. As he looked up to her again, she did the opposite – a little in shame. Swiftly, she turned her head away, her faked attention onto her computer. She then stood up for a few minutes, strode over to Spock's station, where Lieutenant Parker was filling in for him. She bent over Parker's computer, learning forward slightly, to help the woman with the device. With the way Uhura's back arched over the computer, her firm, curvaceous buttocks stuck up a little bit in the air, where her cute little knickers were clearly on show. This, of course, grabbed the attention of a wandering eye or two. Chekov's puppy-dog eyes widened ever so slightly for a second as he felt himself turn red in the face. His heartbeat quickened fast and his trousers began to tighten slightly around the crotch. But as Uhura started to move around the bridge again, completely unaware of the chaos she was creating in Chekov's brain, the young navigator suddenly remembered where he was and he quickly deflated. He coughed and cleaned his throat rather sheepishly. He returned to his work, masking all admiration for this woman. He had to remind himself that this was not a very nice thing to do, especially to a friend, and that Uhura was not just an object for people to gawp at. She was an amazing lady with quick wits and a great mind full of opinions and dreams. Chekov couldn't really remember how long he had had these feelings for this woman. He guessed that they had always been there, since the day he met her. And it wasn't just a sexual attraction, either. He was absolutely sure that he was quite insanely in love with her. But in that peculiar Russian brain of his, he thought it best to keep it a secret. For a little while, at least.

" I guess you could say dat," he replied nonchalantly. He yawned again and stretched his arms up, releasing his body momentarily from an ache in the shoulder.

Uhura smiled again as she returned to her seat, though she didn't say a word.

There was a pause.

" Uhura?" Chekov eventually piped up to break the silence. " Vas it just me or did you also hear strange noises last night?" Usually so mildly deep, the pitch of his voice got curiously higher as he asked his question.

Sulu, having been sat next to him this entire time, perked his head up once he heard the topic of the conversation. This was now the perfect time to join it, and he, too, swivelled his chair around to face them both. " You mean like the screaming?" he asked, frowning a bit.

Uhura paused to think for a second, and it clicked very quickly for her. She snapped her fingers excitedly. " Spock! I bet it was Spock!"

Chekov furrowed his brow in utter confusion. " Mr. Spock? Vhy vould it be him?"

Sulu paused for a fleeting moment, looking slightly flabbergasted at the Russian's naivety. But then he burst out laughing. " Because, genius, it means he probably had his baby last night," he cried after his laughing fit had passed. He was bouncing up and down in his chair a little bit with excitement.

" He did tell me a couple of days ago that he suspected he was having contractions," muttered Uhura thoughtfully. " It would also explain why we haven't seen the Captain today yet."

" Oh," said Chekov in a rather disappointed tone. " Is dat all? I vas t'inking maybe someone had died."

Both very much out of control now, Sulu and Uhura didn't try very hard to conceal their sniggers. Neither of them knew where Chekov could have gotten that idea from. Even if there was a death on the Enterprise every once in a while. But what they didn't expect was the Captain to arrive right at that moment. He slunk sneakily onto the bridge as if he was somewhat sheepish about missing the start of his shift. And indeed he was embarrassed. But that wasn't the reason why everybody gasped. In his arms, so protectively and fatherly, he held Jeremy close to his chest. Wrapped up warm in a woollen blanket, the little green-blooded baby snoozed heavily and happily. It was clear now that he had recovered from the trauma of his own birth, and had welcomed his new surroundings with open arms. The bridge crew wasted no time in making a crowd around their Captain and his sandy-haired son. The women, especially, were particularly taken with the baby. Kirk, a somewhat addict to all kinds of attention, was not so taken with the fuss this time. He had a duty to Spock, and to Jeremy now, to always keep him from harm. Delicately, he moved his hands up the baby's spine to bring him closer to the crook of his shoulder. The new father did all he could do to shield his son from the dangers of broody Starfleet officers.

" Can I have some quiet now, please? Please," Jim tried. But it didn't work. He then came to realise that there was no stopping them now. Jeremy was wide awake by now, blinking his little eyes with the upmost curiosity, so the Captain just let it happen. He held out the baby closer to the crowd so everyone would have the chance to see him properly.

Perfectly in harmony with one another, the crew cooed in awe of the new baby. Jeremy didn't seem to mind, he merely heaved a yawn and attempted to rub the sleep from his eyes. Without success, of course.

" Oh, he is absolutely beautiful, Captain!" gushed Uhura. In order to be heard over the cooing crowd, she had to raise her voice a little bit. " How did Spock do? Was he OK?" she asked. With one very caring finger, the young woman prodded Jeremy's bottom lip gently, making it pucker in response.

Jim chuckled heartily. " Yeah! He was…He was wonderful," he answered wistfully. It took him a moment or two to realise how much of that was true. All morning he had watched Spock, going through Vulcan hell and back to bring their son into the world, but still he came out on top like he always did. Jim felt a quiver of pride and excitement.

" Are you, by any chance, going to have more?" asked Chekov, sniggering cheekily in amidst the crowd.

" More?" Jim seemed quite taken with the idea. He had already thought of this prospect anyway. But he didn't want to get anyone's hopes up, namely his own. In the end, the Captain just shrugged as if he wasn't sure. " Let's see what Spock says about that, huh?"

Chekov nodded, not believing it for one second. He knew Jim wanted more; he could see it in his face and in the twinkle of his eye.

Chekov then caught the Captain grinning at him from ear to ear as if he were a small schoolboy who had just told a very naughty joke. Jim knew, without a single doubt in his mind, what the ensign was thinking. Jim had already sort of guessed that he couldn't hide his feelings anymore, so the best thing he could do now was poke fun at himself. This caused Chekov to laugh a little as he continued to gaze in awe at the new baby.

In order to rest his body from the traumatic birth of his son, Spock had no choice but to stay in the sanctity of the immaculate sickbay. This was where he slept, quite heavily, for what seemed like a thousand eons. Naturally, Dr. McCoy had a duty to keep a close eye on Spock's progress into good health, which he was happy to do. The Vulcan pregnancy had been a rarity after all. However, as he, Nurse Chapel and Dr. Simms continued to make their observations throughout that short period of time, they all started to notice something rather strange about the sleeping science officer. But they just didn't know what it was, and they all mutually assumed that it was simply the tiredness or hormones getting to him. They were half-right in agreeing that hormones had some part in this, but something much more sinister was at work here. Whether Spock could survive it or not, that was the real question. The newly-found father lay flat on his back, for he was still sore from earlier, with his arms firmly down by his sides. He kept his head tilted slightly to the right of the pillow, which would only twitch every now and again as he dreamt, and he appeared to be comfortable and at peace. Appeared to be. That was all he appeared to be; on the surface. Embraced by the spectacular warmth of his pillow and his duvet, no one would ever have suspected that the Vulcan was slowly starting to fall under a dangerous spell. Inside, in the universe Spock called his own, everything was so unearthly dark that he could barely see to the end of his nose. There were strange noises here; voices that called out to him. They were hypnotising him, pulling him in with their songs of jeer. He couldn't hear exactly what they were saying, but he knew that these voices were in desperate need of his pain and heartbreak. Of course, as everyone on the ship already knew, he'd had his fair share of pain and heartbreak over the course of these past nine months. The pain of having to see Kirk with another. The heartbreak of losing a son. Beneath it all, Spock was still healing from it, and it would be a long time until he saw the sunlight again. But forever a fighter, Spock couldn't allow these mocking voices to win.

" Your son is gone. It's hurting you. We can see it. We can smell it on your blood."

" No," Spock whispered gruffly.

" There's nothing for you in life's land. Come, we'll take it away."

" No, I-I have twins. I have another boy. I have everything I need in that place."

"But he'll never measure up to Thomas…Come away with us, Spock."

" You can't have me!" Spock protested with confidence, still falling fast into the isolated depths of his dream. " You'll never have me!"

Still asleep, Spock let out a wheezy gasp of fright, catching Nurse Chapel's attention as she changed the flowers by his bedside. " Spock?" she murmured worriedly. She brushed a gentle hand against his forehead and received quite a shock. He was burning up. Having become overwhelmed by the seas of panic, the poor nurse began to tremble with fear and excitement. But still, she never forgot her place and called the doctor within seconds. " Doctor, please come quickly!"

Both doctors looked up, but it was McCoy who got there first. He stayed eerily calm as he examined his patient. He frowned thoughtfully as he felt Spock's cheeks, while Simms watched on curiously, wondering if there was anything she could do to help.

" He's burning up!" Chapel tried to explain through shaky breaths.

" I know," McCoy muttered, having felt Spock's temperature through his touch. " Simms, hand me my tricorder," he briskly added. As he said this, he whipped the duvet off Spock's body as fast as he could in order to start cooling him down. Dr. Simms was quick to bring the tricorder, and in no time at all, McCoy was searching for the reason behind this sudden change.

Spock, of course, was completely unaware of the chaos he was creating. He was still imprisoned by the blackness of his dream, and the voices were still goading him.

" You'll take a thousand years to heal," the voices all hissed in unison.

As Spock began to listen more closely, he started to realise that these voices belonged to all the people he had met throughout his life. There was a voice that sounded like his mother, one like Kirk and Kathy, even one that sounded identical to the maid his parents had when he was a child. There was just one voice that he didn't recognise, and he had good reason not to recognise it. This voice hadn't quite developed yet, and was still trying to be found by the newborn Jeremy Kirk. Well, there was one thing that Spock was completely sure of. Nothing could harm him or kidnap him because there was indeed nothing to fear. He was still heartbroken over the death of his son, and no amount of Vulcan logic would ever heal him, but he would never let it consume him. The hurt was a part of him; it was what made Spock the way he was. As a new father, he had a duty to kill and die for the twin that had survived. Even if it meant being parted with the one that hadn't. He awoke rather suddenly, which practically frightened the life out of Dr. McCoy.

" Spock!" he cried.

Slightly weakened, Spock felt his voice leave him. So he merely blinked, rather awkwardly, as if in response.

" Lie still, Spock. You know, I was pretty sure you were gonna die o' a broken heart."

Spock nodded slowly and silently, overcome with exhaustion.

McCoy's features softened a little as he smiled warmly. " I'm glad ya didn't," he added gently.

" Wait. A broken heart?" came a brand new voice; a voice that hadn't spoken in quite some time.

Everyone looked up to find Captain Kirk standing there in the doorway, the baby still in his fatherly arms. Spock could almost grin when he laid eyes on him, but he kept his emotions a secret for now. Having just come in at that moment, it was pretty understandable that the Captain would look bewildered, confused and worried all at once. He never once took his eyes off Spock. Dr. McCoy puffed out a breath sheepishly, and then tried to mask it with a smile.

" Nothing, Jim. Everything's fine. I was just sayin' that, um, Spock 'ere had a bit of a funny turn. Didn't ya, Spock?" McCoy explained, his tricorder trembling slightly in his sweaty grasp.

Kirk frowned. " Funny turn?" he enquired, tilting his head subtly to the side.

" Yes, Jim."

In the background, Spock exchanged a pair of pleading eyes with Nurse Chapel, who understood the Vulcan's request straightaway. As the two men continued talking, the nurse seemed to be at a loss for words at first, not knowing exactly how she was going to say this. She opened her mouth before shutting it again. But after glancing at Spock for a second time, she managed to pluck up the courage to say something.

" Um, well…Isn't it time we leave these two lovebirds alone with their baby? They still need to bond a bit more, and the little one might be hungry, too," she piped up with enthusiasm, smiling sweetly as she always did.

As McCoy took a short while to think it over, Dr. Simms appeared to agree with the nurse and then she, too, tried to persuade him to give his consent. Dr. McCoy wasn't sure if it was a good idea. Spock, after all, had been through a huge ordeal, and it was clear that he hadn't quite recovered, so McCoy didn't really want to risk any more upheavals. But in the end, the doctor's repressible kindness won him over. He gave a deep, primitive grunt as if he didn't care in the slightest. He then left without another utterance, barely beckoning the others to come with him. And with that, the growing Kirk family were left to talk in only each other's company.

Now that he had been given this moment of privacy with his new family, the Captain wasn't entirely sure what to do with it. His words just seemed to leave him without ever being heard. As he gazed upon Spock's face, Kirk came to a realisation that had never occurred to him before. Spock had been the carrier of his child, yes. There was definitely no denying that anymore. But he was also part of the Kirk family tree now, as Kirk was part of Spock's family. They shared the alien hybrid who rested so contently in the Captain's arms now. Spock and Kirk were not just t'hy'las anymore. They were so much more than that. They were parents of this wonderful little thing, and of the brother, too, who they were sure to meet one day in the afterlife. If there ever was such a place. Kirk heaved a sigh of pure contentment with the world he and Spock had created together. There were to be no secrets now, which meant that Kirk could make such a proposition in this sentimental moment. Sure enough, the infamous boyish grin slithered across his lips and refused to leave. Before making his move, Kirk glanced down at Jeremy who, in return, gurgled at him as if to get him going. And that gave Jim Kirk the boost to approach the Vulcan's bed, striding confidently in his boots as he did so.

This whole time, Spock had been watching the Captain more closely than usual. He wasn't sure if it was the fatigue from the birth or the lingering feeling of terror from his nightmare, but Spock was starting to lose his emotionless demeanour. Kirk was just so beautiful to him. He was like a statue made of gold, placed in the middle of the universe so everyone could marvel at his beauty. But best of all, Spock was the only one who could claim him as his own. As his strength gradually began to come back to him, Spock vowed silently to the gods he had always denied were real to appreciate Kirk's love for always, and to show it in the best or worst of times. So when Kirk approached the bed, preparing his weakened voice for a challenge, tears welled up in those Vulcan eyes and began tumbling down like the waterfalls of ages' past. Touched by this display of warmth from the alien, Kirk almost shuddered as he felt tears in his own eyes, but he kept them at bay for the time being. They weren't ready to be exposed yet.

Somewhat clumsily, due to his hands being already full, Kirk motioned to Spock with urgency. Confused at first, Spock didn't understand what the Captain was trying to say but quickly caught on. With a soft, pained grunt, the new father struggled slightly to make room for his captain to join him in the bed. The couple lay together in silence for what must have been an hour, stealing glances of each other and of their baby, until the Captain was ready to speak his mind.

" Spock?" he piped up cautiously.

" Hmm?" This was all Spock could say. He was busy touching Jeremy's face, feeling his soft skin to soothe him to sleep as he started to fuss.

" Now, I know we agreed to marry in the New Year, but do we really have to?" Kirk asked.

At this, Spock glared at his fiancé in disbelief. " What do you mean, Jim?"

" Well..." Kirk began. He was obviously trying to stall, but it was the only thing he could do in order to choose his words without coming off as a complete nutcase. A fleeting glimpse of Jeremy's button nose gave him strength. " We've got this little one now and..." He paused again. The words were lost to him once again.

" Jim, what are you trying to say? You're never this...tongue-tied, as you humans would call it," Spock quipped. A not-quite-a-smile formed on his lips, and he took Jeremy from Kirk's arms to hold him for a few minutes.

" I want to get married, Spock," confessed the Captain with no shame or embarrassment in his voice. " Not next year, not even tomorrow. I want to marry you now, Spock. Now."

Spock didn't know how to respond at first, having felt taken aback by the offer. But it was a no-brainer. " Yes."

Yes. The answer was always going to be yes.