I wasn't going to write this, but could think of no other gift for Pam's baby shower (hi, Nikita!)
If Pam likes it, it could go in the nursery....
Two of these characters don't belong to me. Nya-nya ne nya-nya.... What are you gonna do, cry about it?
TOS: K/S au for Pam's baby shower
April 16, 1407 zulu. Captain James T. Kirk, master of the DORGroup schooner 'CloudDance' sat in the 'Nervous Parents' room at Lahaina Maternity. He was hooked so deeply into his partner's mind that he was completely unaware of the nurse sending him concerned looks. He sought again permission to return to the room, and almost fell as he received it and stumbled back to the ward.
Spock was clutching the hands of the donor-moms, one of each, sending them feelings of immense gratitude, stunned joy, total adoration and complete servitude.
It was the most human moment of his life, and he felt no shame. All adult ears in the room were tuned to the little sounds coming from the other side of the room, where the babies were being gently washed. Jim stood in the door, taking it in.
The exhausted lesbian pair, laying in total collapse on the two birthing couchs, were smiling faintly.
Spock heard their thoughts and returned the smiles with an uncharacteristic broad grin. /you were both wonderful. James and I can't ever express our.../ /hey, spock, nevermind... just find me/us our daughters, would you?/
Spock released the hands, turned eagerly, and strode to the nurses on the other side of the curtain. They looked up and grinned at him, then handed him an identical pair of tiny human girl-children. He took them gingerly and walked slowly and carefully back, laying one little girl in the arms of each woman.
Tears sprang up in all eyes, fresh tears, and he retreated quickly to the door. /I am breaking the link/ he warned them, but neither even looked up, already too absorbed in each other and their new family. He severed his connection to the mothers of his children forever, and turned to hug Jim close.
"They're perfect, they're absolutely perfect," he purred, and kissed Jim thoroughly. Jim could hardly stand the combined weight of their joy. He broke free, trembling, sucking air into his lungs. "Jim, if you faint again, I am going to send you to our room and bring them myself."
"No, Spock, I'm okay..."
He took Jim's hand and led him. "Barbera and Deepha have no idea which of them gave birth to which, and you must never tell them..."
"I know, Spock!" Jim's impatience was suddenly overwhelming. Spock actually chuckled. He pushed the curtain aside and motioned to the nurse, then led/pushed/pulled Jim out to the hallway again.
"What's taking so long?"
"It has only been 7.25 minutes..."
"It seems like... oh..." The nurse came through the door, a small bundle in each arm. Jim reached, then let his hands fall. "How...?"
"Crook your arm, sir, and remember to support the head. That's all there is to it." Jim gingerly accepted the tiny bundle, and sucked in his breath, heard/felt Spock do the same. Tiny! Pink and mottled, wrinkled, kicking and fussing and angry...
the tiny shell ears just like their father's, coming to tiny little points, the tell-tale flush betraying their human papa. "Milk..." came a soft, indulgent voice, and both men accepted bottles and held the tiny nipples up to the puckered, furious mouths. Jim became suddenly aware of a new consciousness, a hungry sore angry outraged....
"Spock, I can't believe it. I can feel...."
"Yes. I, also. They will be telepaths." Much of the fury abated, gradually replaced by a feeling of sleepy contentment as the little people suckled their first meal. Jim looked up, tears streaming down his cheeks, and saw that Spock was in a similar physical state.
"We should go to our room, Jim."
"Yes. I'm sorry I fainted, Spock." /it was so intense and.../
/never mind, papa Jim. you'll have a month here to recover (while our sons) get the mother's milk (our sons) they need (our sons)/
The nurse caught his arm and deftly snagged the baby as Spock melted, a puddle of over-taxed vulcan, in a dead faint on the floor.
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