A/N: Let us all thank SpockLikesCats for editing this chapter. Her assistance was invaluable in presenting this story the way I imagined. Last minute changes make all remaining mistakes completely mine.

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Chapter 9: An Intrinsical Gift

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T'Etras, the midwife, appeared from inside the cave. In her arms she held a newborn covered in blood and other body fluids which, drop after drop, fell to the sand. The umbilical cord was tightly wrapped between her fingers as she presented the child to his father.

"Skon, your son."

He held his breath while observing the infant carefully.

Thick black hair. Maybe that explained T'Rama's feeling of heartburn toward the end of their pregnancy.

Small mouth.

Curious, large black eyes. Here, he obviously took after his mother.

A small nose and delicate, still-furled ears.

Ten fingers. Five per hand.

A round belly.

A lok.

A large lok.

This was quite a large lok for a newborn. Skon calculated its length. Approximately 5.9 centimeters. Well, it is obvious from whom he got that, he thought, swelling with illogical pride.

A pair of long legs. His son would be tall, like his parents.

Ten toes. Five on each foot.

Skon finally exhaled. The child's eyes widened.

Perfect.

He was perfect.

Studying his son, Skon returned his inquisitive look. He realized that the infant was shivering.

All of a sudden, the newborn's expression changed into anger. He kicked into the air and a loud cry, disproportional to the infant's size, echoed inside the cave.

So much for the small mouth. Its size is misleading, Skon thought with wonder, realizing that his son was protesting because he was cold.

And the midwife was waiting for the nafai-tor – his acknowledgement.

"He is acceptable," Skon replied and, honoring a tradition that dated back thousand of years, bowed his head in respect to the woman who first presented him his heir. "My mate?"

"She is well; we are preparing her. You will join her soon – I shall return," T'Etras replied quickly and withdrew back into the cave, taking the newborn with her.

When she left, Skon let out a deep breath.

"I believe congratulations are in order," Solkar said, sensing his son's profound relief. Next to him stood I'Chaya, waving his tail.

"Congratulations, then," his father nodded subtly.

"Woof! Woof!" I'Chaya's enthusiastic barks echoed inside the cave.

"I thank you both. T'Rama is well. And we have a son. Did you observe how tall and strong he is?"

"Yes, Skon," Solkar said, thinking how illogically amusing was for a new father to state the obvious. Had he behaved similarly the first time he became a father? How embarrassing.

Skon set his emotions about the child aside and calculated the hour. The labor had lasted for an unusually long time. Now through his marital bond came a feeling of calmness, obviously from the drugs. In what condition was his bondmate?

"T'Rama will need several weeks to recover from this ordeal. She must be very tired," he murmured, unable to hide his concern.

Again Solkar stepped in as the voice of reason. "When the appropriate time comes, the healers will give us all the necessary information regarding her recovery. Now, we must welcome our clan's newest member. Personally, I am quite fond of the idea of being a grandfather. And I have always held T'Rama in high esteem."

Skon looked at his hands. Earlier he had clenched his fists so tight, his palms were lined with bloody green crescents.

Then his gaze fell on the floor, where the midwife stood a few moments before. There were spots of green on the sand … blood that belonged to T'Rama. He knew that he could never make up for all the suffering she had gone through to bring into life their child. All of their children … including the three that did not survive.

"She is a most worthy bondmate," he agreed, not without a small hint of emotion in his voice.

"I am certain she is an excellent bondmate. But I wasn't referring to that."

"What do you mean?"

For a moment Solkar stood thoughtful. "My son, before you left for your kahs'wan, do you recall that you requested to take along a certain item you considered essential?"

"I admit I do not."

"You were not very interested in taking water, or even a small knife. You asked for the book you were currently reading. You wanted to finish it."

That minor detail eluded Skon. "Did I?"

"You do not possess … a practical mind, Skon," Solkar shook his head. "You are brave, intelligent and kind. The best son a father could ask for. Your translation of 'The Teachings of Surak' in Standard Terran and Standard Tellarite has proven to be an invaluable tool in bringing us closer to both species.

"But you are not practical, my son. When you emerge in your studies, you forget yourself. That is why your mother and I decided to bond you with T'Rama.

"Her father often commented on his little daughter's organizational skills and their benefit to the family household. The kitchen cupboards, her room, her clothes, her shoes, her parents' shoes, her books, their books... She even monitored her father's work shifts, to make sure he didn't overtax himself…

"T'Rama arranged everything and everyone within her reach with an alarming exactitude. I must admit, I always believed my friend exaggerated. That was, until the heating system in my office broke down and he came to repair it. When he opened up his briefcase, I observed his tools, PADDs and manuals.

"When I mentioned how efficiently everything was arranged, he informed me that it was his small daughter who insisted on helping her father every morning preparing his briefcase. She had even created a program to monitor the family's supply of food, which alerted her parents when the optimum amount of any item fell below thirty percent. He confided in me that his bondmate found that amusing, but he didn't share that opinion. He was worried T'Rama might lack the necessary imagination to complete her studies. Fortunately, she did not.

"That was when I first considered her suitability to be your potential mate. You were both of the same age. I did some research on the family. The parents were from a small village in the South and from an unimportant clan. They moved to Shi'Kahr after their daughter was born. The child went to the Science Academy's Public Library once a week. I visited the place a few times and … well … I wanted to see the girl first," Solkar admitted, a little embarrassed. "I would never bond you with someone who isn't as aesthetically pleasing as your mother," he said, looking at Skon with affection.

"After that, your mother went to T'Rama's school and spoke with her teachers. Apart from her pleasant face, the child had goals. We had a small family meeting … discussed all these facts and we both agreed. The healer who examined you both simply confirmed our suspicions. Your different personalities complemented each other."

Skon was surprised at this revelation. "I thought you chose her because you held her family in high esteem."

His father's mouth quirked up. "My son. We know many families. All of them are noble people and have most worthy daughters. But in regards to your bonding, our main concern was that you wouldn't starve," Solkar replied, in a matter-of-fact tone. He was neither pleased nor displeased – it was just the way things were.

"Just you wait," he continued, "until the time comes to bond your son … Which reminds me, have you and T'Rama decided how to name him?"

"Err… no," Skon hesitated. "T'Rama refused to make even the smallest arrangement before the child's birth. She has only prepared this bag, saying we will find inside everything we need," he said, indicating a dark blue backpack lying on the floor against the opposite wall.

"… and?" asked Solkar, only to met his son's oblivious expression.

"… and what?"

"… What's inside it?"

"I have no idea," shrugged Skon. Since the moment T'Rama had gone into labor, the bag's contents were the last thing he cared about. "Last year was … peculiar … to say the least. The only thing indicating we would become parents was her growing belly. She refused to buy clothes, prepare a nursery or even discuss names."

"Did she?" Solkar raised an amused eyebrow.

"In fact, she was most persistent. It was as if … no child would arrive." Skon's gaze darkened when he recalled their three miscarriages. The last one had threatened his bondmate's life. "I suppose she wanted to hold him first. It is understandable. Besides, I have thought of a few names," he smirked, pleased with his secret disobedience.

"You did well. And of course the child would arrive," Solkar said. "When I first spoke with Eiren about T'Rama's pregnancy, he was most optimistic. The primary examinations were excellent and positive results continued during her term. Anyway, I am pleased to discover your mother was not the only illogical gestating female in the family." Realizing he had forgotten himself, he turned, alarmed, to check the entrance that united their cavern with the next. "She didn't hear me, did she?"

"No, she is still inside with T'Rama," Skon assured him. It was amusing to see his father, one of the most austere – some would even say intimidating – diplomats in the galaxy, watching over his shoulder, mindful of his bondmate's wrath.

Solkar carefully straightened the folds of his long robe as he decided how to approach this delicate subject. It was most unpleasant for every Vulcan to speak about their well-controlled emotions. "Skon, my son, you didn't tell your adun'a that she behaved illogically, did you?"

"Certainly not. That would be unwise. Why?" Realizing why his father asked, Skon raised both eyebrows in surprise. "Father! You didn't!"

The elder man actually sighed. "I must confess, I did. Not my finest marital moment. Your mother was eleven months pregnant and there was an unprecedented heat wave. I was young and not very wise. Fortunately, I was quick. I ducked and the glass smashed against the wall."

Skon was confused. "I cannot imagine Mother irritated, any more than I can imagine her using profanities. Why did you judge her behavior illogical?"

It was a perfectly reasonable question, but somehow entirely unexpected. Therefore, for a moment Solkar of Vulcan, one of the galaxy's finest diplomats, was at a loss for words. Oddly enough, his distraction of Skon had backfired; this revelation wasn't on the conversational agenda and besides, Solkar would never discuss with anyone how his bondmate vehemently insisted on continuing marital relationships during both her pregnancies ….

… How, on that warm day – despite his strong protests – T'Yann had got what she wanted by cornering him between the bedroom's door and the closet. How he had tried to resist but to no avail; T'Yann reminded him that coitus was allowed. And – fever or not – his adun'a always made Solkar's blood burn.

… How, after a brief but intense fight, they had barely managed to reach the bed, where an even more intense coupling took place.

… How when Eiren – the family's healer back then – wondered aloud why Skon was born two weeks earlier than his due date, a young Solkar had blushed heavily and bowed his head, saying nothing.

No, these were things that Solkar would never confide to anyone. Ever.

"She … was in heat," Solkar nodded. "It was very hot. Extremely hot." Which technically wasn't a lie.

Recalling his personal experiences over the previous year, Skon lowered his head. One side-effect of T'Rama's pregnancy was that, as the pregnancy progressed, her behavior had slightly changed; she had become more and more amorous.

Unfortunately, she was terrified they might injure the child and had exiled him from her bedroom during the first five months. He had suggested asking Eiren about physical contact but T'Rama had refused. After her third miscarriage, she was unable to trust anyone. Then one night Eiren peacefully died…

Privately, Skon had sought advice, not from the clan's new healer, but from someone he considered a friend, Paton.

At first Paton wondered why nobody had given them the information. Skon authorized Paton's access to the S'chn T'gai clan's medical files. Paton discovered that Eiren knew that the couple was mating outside of Skon's Time. Since they hadn't asked, Eiren presumed they had continued to mate during the pregnancy. After the clan healer's passing, the other healers had obviously assumed the couple had been informed that such mating was safe.

After the misunderstanding was identified, Paton answered Skon's questions. The healer revealed that Vulcan females craved for sexual intimacy during the course of their pregnancy. It was nature's way to draw males close to them so that the males would protect them and their unborn child during a period when the females were slowly becoming vulnerable and needed to ensure the survival of their offspring.

That condition, known as pon k'kan, was the female equivalent to the male's pon farr and – although it wasn't of the same severity, intensity or duration – it was also kept as highly confidential.

Since it was a condition as secretive as the fires, Vulcans didn't talk about it, even among themselves. Healers simply encouraged copulation during the course of pregnancy. After childbirth the symptoms disappeared; mating once again was becoming optional.

Once a child was born, the father acknowledged it as his own and initiated a mental link – something that until then existed only between the unborn child and the mother.

In short, Paton verified that T'Rama's behavior was normal and encouraged Skon to engage into frequent mating with his bondmate. A relieved Skon had shared that information with his adun'a, but without results; fear kept T'Rama's bedroom door hermetically shut.

One night Skon had sensed her frustration and sexual need. Without an invitation and despite T'Rama's objections, he went to her bed. Although by that time she was unable to offer resistance, respecting his adun'a's wishes, Skon hadn't entered her. Instead he had used his hands and mouth to offer her release.

That night Skon was grateful about a decision he had taken years ago. Decades of mating outside his Time had made him an expert in satisfying his bondmate in multiple ways. T'Rama was thoroughly relieved, and afterwards T'Rama helped Skon achieve his own sexual release. It was a fortunate arrangement that worked for the rest of the pregnancy.

So father and son sat next to each other, privately recalling their personal pon k'kan experiences.

After a while, Skon found himself in a pleasant drowsy state. Suddenly he woke fully, overwhelmed by a warm feeling. T'Rama was calling him through their bond.

Skon, ashayam, come… come…

Hearing footsteps, he rose quickly and met T'Etras who once again stood at the cave's entrance.

"Skon. You may see your family now."

Solkar stood and placed his hand on his son's shoulder.

"Go," he encouraged him. "Give T'Rama my best wishes. I will see them later."

Skon nodded, and with a considerably lighter step entered the cave, following the midwife.

When Skon left, Solkar returned to his rocky seat, briefly closed his eyes and let out a deep breath he had held for the last seventy years.

Finally. Finally, an heir.

Then he picked up his PADD and tried once again to concentrate on the treaty document. He met little success, since he was approached by I'Chaya, who didn't care to control his enthusiasm.

"Woof! Woof!" the bulky sehlat barked happily, expressing his joy in the loudest way possible.

"Indeed," Solkar replied, while he and the sehlat communicated empathically. "Today is a good day, I'Chaya."

"Urrr?"

"Yes, there is only one cub. You knew that."

"Arf! Arf!"

"No, I'Chaya. I do not believe the cub will come with you tomorrow on an excursion on the Forge."

"Urrr?"

"Or the day after. In fact, it will be approximately one year before he will be able to walk."

"Uuuur…" the sehlat cried again in protest. Weren't there any alternatives? Couldn't he–?

"No, you may not carry him there." Unable to continue his reading anymore, Solkar lowered the PADD. "However, I am certain that Skon and T'Rama will allow you two to play in the garden. Once the cub starts walking."

Hearing that, I'Chaya's frown disappeared. "Woof!" he barked excitedly, waving his tail.

"Well, it was about time to fill in a new birth certificate for the clan. We couldn't just continue adopting lizards from other clans. Hmmm… maybe I should return that certificate back to Skon. As a reminder of what he too will suffer during parenthood," Solkar said with a definite touch of malice.

I'Chaya tilted his head, uncertain of what that last comment meant. "Urrr?"

"As I said, my friend," Solkar allowed himself a small paternal smile, "today is a good day for our clan."

He gently patted I'Chaya's head, and then once again resumed his reading.

If he could just find a way to reconcile the Tellarite with the Human and the Andorian requests ... What all these illogical youngsters requested was sometimes out of his comprehension ...

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The first thing Skon sensed, walking inside the cave, was a heavy smell of blood. He looked around; the scenery was a combination of modern and ancient.

The rocky bed T'Rama was lying on was dressed with an ultramodern sensor pad and temperature-regulating covers which transformed it into a biobed. Everything was suspiciously clean; by that time the midwives had removed everything related to the labour. Even the sand on the cave floor was cleaned.

They had already bathed the infant in the cave's fountain and now T'Fevia and T'Yann were dressing it. Next to them were two medical waste disposal containers. T'Ella was assisting T'Rama tie her traditional maternity robe.

Paton finished sealing the containers and turned to him.

"Skon."

"Paton. I thank thee for my bondmate and our son. All of you," he said as T'Vikhar, their family healer after Eiren's passing, approached them. In one hand she carried her medical bag and in the other her PADD.

"We are here to serve," T'Vikhar replied neutrally, her gaze severe. "Your son has a big head."

Skon was uncertain of how to respond to that. Then he recalled something his bondmate had said years ago.

"Strong and stubborn, like his father," T'Rama had said the very night they had started mating. Skon hoped 'stubborn' wasn't the case. After all, nobody could claim the clan's males were stubborn. Persistent, yes, but also willing to persuade others to agree with their logic. But before he managed to form an answer, the family's healer continued.

"He gave us a bit of a hard time coming into the world. Anyway, I shall see T'Rama in eight days, to make sure she is healing properly and all internal stitches are absorbed."

"Stitches? What stitches?" asked Skon. T'Vikhar gave him a steady look.

"Oh," Skon gulped. "Those stitches."

"I am not in pain, Skon," T'Rama assured him, all too aware that her appearance contradicted her words. T'Ella assisted her daughter as she tried to sit up. "It is tolerable," T'Rama said, flinching.

"You will feel a little uncomfortable for the next week," Paton informed her before turning to the new father. "It will take approximately forty days for her heart, bowels and other internal organs to return to their proper placement. This isn't a fever, Skon," he added, emphasising each word. "T'Rama may presume she is well, but she will be in error. Regardless of her strength, I want you to keep her in bed for the next forty days."

"Forty days! I've never–" T'Rama began to protest but she was soundly ignored as everybody else focused on Paton's words.

"Her heart was moved close to her kidneys. She may be strong, but until all her internal organs return to position, her longest walk will be to the bathroom and the heaviest thing she raises will be the infant. Yes?"

"Absolutely," Skon assured him, throwing a determined look at his dishevelled bondmate. T'Rama looked as beautiful as always, yet completely exhausted, just like he did after each Time.

"We shall take our leave now," T'Vikhar said, checking her PADD. Then she turned to Paton. "I cancelled our hovercar."

Hearing that, Skon stood puzzled. After all, they were in a cave in the middle of the desert. "But… how will you leave?"

"Nowadays, there are a few additional benefits in working in Vulcan's biggest hospital," Paton informed him, as he reached for a container. "Our newest transporter has been on standby all this time. Skon, it is fascinating! Almost as fascinating as working in a spaceship," he said in a suspiciously cheerful tone, but he immediately resumed his usual stoic look.

"I am honored that you invited me to attend your son's birth. Besides it gave me the opportunity to use the transporter," he added with a small sparkle in his eyes.

Amused, Skon nodded. He himself had never used that new invention. Then Paton left the cave, carrying one container. T'Etras took the second and followed him. T'Vikhar checked her PADD. A hospital crew would visit the cave tomorrow to remove the transportable biobed and the rest of the heavy medical equipment.

"Should you have any questions or feel anything but mild discomfort, call me any time, day and night."

"Thank you, Healer," T'Rama said.

Under different circumstances, T'Vikhar would reply that it was illogical to thank her merely for doing her job. But she had read Eiren's reports regarding the family's attempts to procreate. She knew what T'Rama had been through during all her pregnancies.

"I come to serve," she nodded. "Rest well tonight and call me tomorrow."

T'Rama looked at T'Fevia, who, along with T'Yann, had finished preparing the infant. Now they were bringing him to her. Her lips curved in an almost smile. "We will," she said to the healer, who nodded approvingly at the child.

"He is strong, this little one." T'Vikhar greeted Skon as she left. "Osu."

Only T'Fevia, the second midwife, would remain with them to escort the family back to their house.

As Skon approached the bed, T'Fevia placed the small baby in T'Rama's embrace.

"There you are. Be careful with his head; remember the skull is not fully formed. Do not be concerned about his eyesight. He will focus within the next hour, once he begins to coordinate the inner with the outer eyelids."

"Thank you," T'Rama whispered, holding for the first time her firstborn. She was utterly awed. He weighed so little, yet held so much importance.

"No thanks are necessary. Your bondmate is here so I will allow you both some privacy. I will wait in the next chamber with your parents. Once you have rested, we shall return to your home. If all goes well, you will be nursing him by this evening. Then I shall leave you."

She moved to the doorway, but T'Rama's voice stopped her. "Wait! And you are sure he is healthy? And he has all his fingers and all his–"

"T'sai," the midwife cut her off, visibly annoyed for having to answer the same questions for the fourth time. "If the child was any healthier, it would be abnormal."

And with these words, she spun on her heel and walked out of the cave.

T'Yann was the next to approach her son.

"Mother," Skon said, "have you seen him? Does he resemble me as an infant? Did you observed his strong kick? And such a loud voice! He is strong, isn't he?"

T'Yann reached out and caressed her son's cheek, flooding him with all her affection and happiness.

"Yes," she nodded, sharing her son's joy. "He is strong. You are a father now, Skon." The words came so easily out of her mouth; nobody would guess that woman had longed to speak them for almost seventy years. Yet she maintained her composure. In other words, she behaved like a normal Vulcan grandmother.

"You are a father now, my son," T'Yann repeated, realizing how much she liked the sound of these words. "Go to your bondmate," she urged him, turning toward T'Rama.

T'Ella, who was still a little shaky from standing by her daughter for her entire thirty-two hour ordeal, did something she hadn't done since T'Rama was an adolescent. She placed her fingers on her daughter's psi-points to estimate her condition … despite T'Rama's objections.

"Oh, Mother, I am well."

"Be silent," T'Ella commanded, closing her eyes. After a few seconds, having completed her own assessment, she reopened them. "You will follow every single one of the healer's instructions. Is that understood, child?"

"Yes, Mother," T'Rama sighed, too exhausted to remind her mother she was fully grown. She rearranged the tiny child in her arms as sadness covered her features.

"Father would be pleased."

T'Ella's face softened as she tenderly caressed the infant's small fingers. "Yes, he would," she agreed and said nothing else, feeling sorrow along the joy attending the child's birth. Her bondmate, the man she had shared her entire lifetime with, would never meet his first grandchild.

T'Yann gently touched T'Ella's shoulder to indicate they needed to leave the new family alone. T'Ella caressed once again the infant's cheek, a faint smile on her lips. There would be no more sadness, no more mourning. She and T'Yann had no more braids to sacrifice. From this time forward, they would celebrate life in honor of their small grandson.

She turned and followed T'Yann out of the cave.

Once they had left, Skon approached and sat on the bed next to his bondmate. Looking at him, T'Rama bit her lower lip, trying to maintain her composure.

"Look. We have him at last," she said, showing him the infant.

Skon caressed her hands. Her beloved hands that now formed a maternal embrace.

"Indeed we have," he nodded, reaching out to caress the infant's cheek. "His skin is unbelievably soft," he murmured. "And warm. He is so warm."

"And he is quite handsome, isn't he?"

"His facial characteristics are… quite symmetrical. He is well formed."

"I do not recall ever seen a more agreeable newborn," T'Rama said, admiring her son's round face. "But again, I am hardly objective," she sighed, amused, and with a gentle touch unfurled a tiny, tender ear. As she caressed its small pointed edge, a small tremble came to her lips. It was quite difficult to control her emotions as she held her newborn baby.

"Would you like to unfold the other?" she asked. Skon caressed his son's head; then gently repeated the ritual by following his wife's movements. Soon both small ears had revealed their sharp pointed shape.

Skon looked at his family. There were black circles under T'Rama's eyes and she looked extremely pale. Yet her face held the sweetest expression he had ever seen as she admired their small son. There were so many waves of happiness coming from their bond that Skon felt his heart swelling with joy.

"How are you? Is there any discomfort or–"

"I am well. Paton injected me with an anaesthetic."

"I have a confession to make," Skon said, caressing their son's soft hands. "On several occasions I had thoughts concerning the child's name."

"I know, Skon," T'Rama sighed. "You are not very talented at keeping your thoughts to yourself."

Well, that was another blow to his ego. But this time, T'Rama wasn't upset with him. Which was always a good sign.

"You did not object? You wished to avoid discussions on that subject."

"Indeed I objected at first. But then I realised how selfish it was of me. I didn't wish to consider any names until he was with us. Besides, I knew that you would do enough thinking for both of us …" She gave him a small, playful look. "Or should I say … for the three of us?"

"The three of us… sounds most pleasing. So, I had several ideas. Ashayam, if it is acceptable, would you consider naming the child after your father?"

"Sarek?" Surprised by his proposal, T'Rama observed her little son who yawned in her embrace. "I refused to think about his name," she admitted, "until his arrival. I was being illogical, wasn't I?"

"No, of course not." Being a proper bondmate Skon would defend his bondmate against everyone, including herself.

She shook her head. "I was. Yes, I was. But he is here now." She smiled faintly at the infant. "Hallo, Sarek. I am your mother." Gently, she placed her fingers on the child's psi-points, and strengthened the mental connection she already shared with her son.

Immediately she was flooded with warm sentiments of curiosity.

An untrained mind opened to hers.

Curious. Her son was most curious.

And he liked her scent.

T'Rama gasped. Slowly she toned down the connection and removed her fingers so as not to overwhelm the newborn with her intense emotions.

"I like you too," she whispered, barely able to control tears.

Sarek yawned again and T'Rama offered the little one to his father. "Do you wish to hold him? Quickly, before he falls asleep."

"Err… yes," Skon nodded, unsure of how to hold such a fragile creature.

"Extend your hands ... your left hand will cradle his head and your right hand will support his body ... here." She slowly passed the baby into Skon's arms. "Be careful of his head."

"Like this?"

She thought of how handsome he looked as, uncertainly, he held the tiny infant. A feeling of fear came through their bond. Her adun was afraid.

"Am I holding him correctly?" he asked.

She gave him the ghost of a smile. "Quite. He suits you," she said, as a feeling of weariness overcame her.

"Adun… The midwives told me Sarek will require nursing within the next hours. Will you hold him while I rest?"

"Certainly."

"Skon … During labor I started leaking colostrum."

He gave her a confused look. "What?"

"Pre-milk."

That was when Skon noticed her breasts. T'Rama wore the traditional soft white maternity robe. Yet under it… He gulped. Exactly how much bigger had her breasts become since two days ago?

Only he was no longer the sole owner of T'Rama's body. From now on, she would keep alive not only him, but also their son… His heir.

Once again Skon was flooded by shame. It was the same way he had felt years ago, the night he had proposed mating out of his Time. His adun'a's body and the way she sustained his life was a topic that would never cease to embarrass him.

"Oh … Err ... Of course, adun'a." Skon lowered his head; the tips of his ears turned green. Paton had told him they could resume coupling after the first forty days. That meant that she would nurse the infant … It was embarrassing how arousing the sight of her swelling breasts was.

"Oh, yes, that," said T'Rama, noticing too. "It is a little uncomfortable, but the midwife said I shall soon produce milk," T'Rama smiled subtly; the bond pulsed from her enthusiasm. "Within the day."

…how could he respond to that? "Err… That sounds… nutritious," he shifted uneasily in his seat.

Unfortunately for him, T'Rama – practical as always – couldn't wait to start nursing. She was most eager to discuss the topic and didn't share Skon's discomfort, not in the slightest, since mating wasn't even among her most distant thoughts.

"Isn't it fascinating? I wonder how my milk will taste. Do you think Sarek will like it?"

"..."

"I think he will like it. I fed him for eleven months and he never complained once," her mouth twisted in amusement. "Now, I shall rest for a while," she said, unable to hide her fatigue.

Lying back, her eyes began to close, but in a second she re-opened them.

"Skon, if Sarek requires changing there are diapers in the blue bag we brought with us."

"Very well," he nodded.

"The diapers are in the front case. I have also brought small cotton bibs. Make sure to wipe his mouth if he produces saliva. Ask the midwife, your mother, or mine."

Watching the infant, he nodded again.

T'Rama closed her eyes, only to immediately reopen them.

"I have also brought a change of clothes, in case he becomes unclean. They are in an orange package."

"I understand."

"But if he stains himself, wake me and we'll change him together."

"Yes."

"In the bag's large case, there are also two thermoses with water, glasses, and some energy bars. Did you find them?"

Skon looked at his son uncertain. "Isn't he supposed to drink exclusively milk?"

T'Rama let out an exasperated sigh. Her control had been put in a serious test during the last thirty hours and she was less tolerant with her adun's absent-mindedness. "The water and food are for you and Solkar. Have you two eaten anything since yesterday?"

"Err… no."

"Haven't you searched the bag? I told you, I put everything we needed inside."

"I haven't even thought about opening it," he admitted.

"Oh, Skon," T'Rama tiredly shook her head. "You would have starved without me."

"So I have been reminded," he murmured. He may have been a slightly arrogant boy when he'd first met T'Rama. But that pridefulness had been completely vanquished by his adun'a. She truly completed him in every way.

"I shall rest now," she said in a voice that grew wearier. "But when I sense Sarek's hunger, I'll awake."

He nodded again.

"Oh, and in the bag's large case there is also a small eye-hand coordinator toy. It's in a red box. Once you meld with Sarek, use it, if he's still awake, to play with him.

"And there is a sterilized pacifier in a small yellow box…

"Oh, and I have bought a small blanket with our clan symbols. Before you present Sarek to Solkar, wrap him with the blanket. Solkar will be pleased."

"He most certainly will," Skon smirked. Solkar had never commented on it but Skon knew how his parents longed for a grandchild.

His slender fingers caressed gently his son's face. "You are … perfect," he murmured, still amazed with the delicate creature in his arms. "Hallo, Sarek. I am your father. I will protect you. And I will teach you … I will teach you survival and calligraphy and gardening and differential equations and … and everything I know – everything."

Carefully, he placed his fingers on the infant's psi-points to establish the primary parental link that would strengthen within the next weeks.

The child's bright mind opened to his. Sarek couldn't see very well yet, but Skon's face was close. The infant reached out and grabbed his father's nose.

Having completed the mental connection, Skon removed his fingers.

"Yes," he said amused, "that is the central protuberance of my face. And you, little one … You are the most exquisite creature I have ever set my eyes upon … next to your mother."

He felt his heart swelling with gratitude.

"Thank you ashayam, for this … this …"

He paused for a minute, uncertain.

What did he hold? What was this gift that T'Rama had just now offered him?

Was it a son? An heir to his clan? A face that mirrored his own? A reminder of his own mortality? An altar to sacrifice his illogical pride? A katra, a being, that would unite them both in eternity?

Or was it all these things… and more?

Child or not, that very moment Skon realised … it didn't matter. His son – their son – was simply another bestowal in the long line of offerings T'Rama had given him during their common life. It always came down to one thing.

Half of her heart, half of her soul. All of her being.

And suddenly looking at life's newest miracle, S'chn T'gai Skon… felt small. Very, very small. He caressed the infant's head and let out a deep sigh.

"… this child … this intrinsical gift."

Only T'Rama didn't hear him. Totally exhausted, after a thirty-two hour labor, she had succumbed into a deep sleep.

She was even snoring.

A subtle smile formed on Skon's lips. These small sounds she made while sleeping, were one of the reasons he asked to share her bed. Although he would never admit or reveal it to T'Rama, Skon worshiped those nights. He could stay awake for hours to watch her sleeping form – those purring sounds were like music to his ears.

He bent and placed a soft kiss on her cheek.

.

.

The end…?

.

.

Well, not really.

The story's real epilogue was written many years later.

True, S'chn T'gai Sarek, son of Skon, grandson of Solkar, of the clan of Surak was a proper son who never forged any birth certificates. Still, when the appropriate time came, he did file an adoption certificate – for his alien bondmate. The certificate he presented was valid.

The End.

Vulcan words (from the Vulcan Language Dictionary)

pon: time

k'kan: pregnant

pon k'kan:pregnancy time. A new idea I created especially for this chapter.

A/N: And now dear readers, you know why T'Rama's father remained unnamed during this story. He appears briefly once, as the first character to speak. From the beginning we knew how this story would end. But I hope I managed to hide a few surprises and perhaps caused a smile or two. I apologize if there were any tears.

In the 11th chapter of my story "Various Shades of Gray", I explain how Amanda being clanless was adopted by the S'chn T'gai clan and Sarek before their bonding.

Your thoughts, comments and ideas are most welcome and encouraging!