What It Can Do

Spock was told, post his first pon-farr at the age of fourteen (of which he'd meditated through), that he was sterile by his Vulcan doctors, much like many animal hybrids.

He didn't let it show, but he'd felt, internally, like a travesty of his culture at that moment. He felt like a science experiment, a failure, like an animal.

He'd told T'Pring in their annual meeting for tea (a tradition his mother insisted upon, most likely weighed down by her guilt about betrothing her son) and wasn't surprised when she'd raised an eyebrow and looked away.

The annual meeting for tea ended that year, for when he'd tried to reach his betrothed the following term to set up a meeting, he was turned away by an unforgiving and grave tone by her mother.

He wasn't much surprised.


On their very first official date, Spock tells Uhura that he was never going to be able to produce children, because he's come to believe that this is a Very Grave Concern.

She had been raising her water glass to her lips, and at this rather random proclamation, it stops it's travel and her eyebrows raise.

"I apologize," Spock finally says, and he flushes, actually flushes, a sweet minty green, on his cheeks and his ears, "I know this is a concern that may or may not ever effect us, but I feel it is something you should know."

Nyota Uhura, she's spent hours upon hours with the man before her, in class, out of class, in his office, in campus dining halls and taking walks. She's yet to even kiss him, and it's taken her forever to even make sure he'd been aware that this was not one of their usual dinners, and this is the last thing she'd ever thought he'd say.

However, his words are serious, drenched in concern and thoughtfulness. It's also the closest thing to declaring open feelings she's ever gotten from him; if he'd thought this might be a concern of theirs he's obviously heavily involved in pursuing her.

She's not sure what to say, but she certainly needs to break the ice; lighten the mood.

"Well," She says, finally taking a sip of her water. Her hand snakes across the table to clasp around his fingers, "You may not ever be able to produce children, but the 'equipment' is fully capable and ready to launch, right Commander?"

If it's possible, he flushes even deeper, although his expression remains passive. His fingers tighten around hers as a corner of his mouth upturns in the familiar smirk.



Spock plays the message from his communications folder again, for his own amusement. Below him, he can feel the ship subtlety shift into warp as they are taken farther and farther away from the docking station. He's got a lot on his mind now; the loss of Vulcan weighing heavily on his mind, tangling and compromising his passive nature.

This message, though, gives him a human emotion he's actually quite content to feel - smug triumphant selfishness.

"Spock," Comes the voice of one of the elders as it plays, "It has come to our attention that you have decided to remain with Star Fleet. We would like to remind you of your responsibility to your people. While we have been informed by our doctors that you had been condemned sterile, we believe that between advances in our own medicine with the assistance of human technologies, that you perhaps would be able to conceive with a mate here. We insist -"

He hits 'delete'. If they hadn't lost Vulcan, this option would never had been presented to him. He would have gone on sterile, and most likely, this would have been seen as a positive by most, if not all, of the Vulcan Elders. He didn't need their help, nor would he give them his. Ambassador Spock was there for that very reason.

That was enough of that, now.


Joanna McCoy was sweet and wide-eyed and had the most humanly charming fascination with his ears that she'd taken to following him around so close that if he stopped short, she'd surely run into his legs.

"Miss Joanna," Spock asks, peering down with a raised eyebrow at the little girl. He lowers the PADD in his hands, careful not to hit her with it as he lowers it to his side. From across the Bridge, he can see Jim howling with laughter behind a closed fist. Apparently, this was a humorous sight for him.

"Yes, Mr. Spock?" She asks, bouncing her knees a little and swaying side-to-side.

"Is there something you require?" He continues. She's fidgeting more now, clearly building herself up to speak to him.

"CanItouchthem?" She finally blurts, before clamping her hands over her mouth and giggling ferociously. Spock's eyebrow quirks up higher, and he forces his expression to remain passive.

"What was that, Miss Joanna?" He requests, although he definitely heard her the first time. Her eyes widen even further.

"Your ears - canItouchthem?" She asks again. The entire bridge is watching now, eyes drawn to the Vulcan, towering above the little girl standing at his feet. He pretends to ponder the question for a moment, and then to the surprise to almost everyone, kneels to her height and tilts his head in her direction.

"You may," He says, and after a hesitant moment, he feels little fingers gently touch his ear. She gasps and giggles and then tugs it gently. Spock takes the unguarded moment to scoop her into his arms and run his fingers over her belly to tickle her. She laughs with her whole body, grabbing him around the neck as he straightens, his expression light and his lips quirked. The bridge is quiet and touched by the sight, as Spock tucks her to his side as he walks with her off the bridge.

"Let's go find your father, Miss," He tells her as they leave.

"Well that's not something you see everyday," Kirk says, settling back down in the Captain's chair.

From her station, Nyota wipes away a tear.


The night before their official bonding ceremony, Spock reminds Nyota gently about his condition, about his inability to procure children for them. At his words, she goes to reassure him, but before she can open her mouth, she's crying, and crying, and crying.

He's taken aback, concerned, and yet understanding of her feelings. She would be an exquisite mother, he'd tell her as she buried her head in his chest, and yes, he would be heartbroken if she'd changed her mind, but he'd understand.

She's not crying because she feels robbed of not being a mother, he'll learn later as she peppers kisses down his chest and presses her hand over his heart, but because he'd never get to be a father.


Pon farr at 28 is a very different experience for Spock then it was for when he was 14 or 21. For one, he no longer spends the burning hours meditating away his desires and emotional turmoil. Instead, he and Nyota spend the time locked away in their quarters, together, experiencing the most passionate, exquisite feelings and connection that they had since the consummation of their relationship.

He's uninhibited, powerful, and attuned to her in ways no lover had ever been. She feels him everywhere; in her mind, tied to her soul. He's careful not to cause her pain, but she allows him to push, pull, touch her in any way he'd ever desired. It's strong and emotional and perfect.

She's never felt closer to him, ever.


It's a Thursday when it dawns on her, and it's a Friday when it's confirmed by McCoy, who's eyes are wide and expression open and excited in a rare way - he's rarely smiling without the hint of a scowl, mocking or otherwise.

She's thrown for a loop by this official news, and has to duck into the lavatory to once again throw up the remnants of her morning's breakfast, Nurse Chapel leaning over her, pulling her hair out of her face and helping her wash up afterwards.

She brushes her teeth thoroughly before taking off through the ship, unable to keep it from Spock a moment longer. He's on shift on the bridge when she bursts in at breakneck speed, garnering attention from the whole staff at her appearance. He stands when he sees her expression, one of apprehension and unbridled excitement.

They stand a couple of feet apart for a moment, looking at one another.

"Spock," She says, and closes the distance between them, throwing herself into his arms. Suddenly, her lips are on his, kissing and kissing and kissing, and he's unsure of what to do - he's uncomfortable with the show they're presenting the other officers but -


She's deepened the kiss, pressing her fingers into a spot at the curve of his jaw; the one he can't help but shiver when she touches. He leans into the kiss then, kissing her back.

Finally, they part, catcalling from fellow officers barely affecting them.

"Nyota," He says, breathless, "What is the meaning of this?"

She kisses him lightly on the lips once more before she takes the hand he's placed on her hip and slides it to her belly. Standing on her tip-toes, she presses her mouth to his ear to whisper.

"I'm pregnant," She says, only to his ears. She feels him stiffen, then step back.

"How? But, I thought...they told me it was impossible -" He says, before pressing his hand gently along her flat abdomen.

"Nothing is impossible when it comes to love," She smiles, pressing her fingers through the short, soft hairs at the nape of his neck. When his arms close around her in a sweet embrace, she's not surprised to feel his emotions pour through her like a warm wave. She's almost overwhelmed by it at first, but then, it's just comforting; solid.

"Nothing." He replies, his voice soft and perfect and there, as always, "Nothing."