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EPILOGUE

CAPTAIN'S LOG STARDATE 2237.01

"Lieutenant Sulu and I have managed to breach the portal on the other side of the abandoned medical facility. The portal has transported us to Earth, in the early twentieth century. We currently are searching for the location of Commander Spock and Dr. McCoy.

"Captain," Sulu said, holding up his tricorder. "I have Dr. McCoy, straight ahead. Inside that building."

"What about Mr. Spock?"

"I'm sorry, Sir. I only am receiving Dr. McCoy's biosignal."

Kirk turned around and looked. "Harrimann Jones Hospital. Let's go, Sulu."

They crossed the street and entered the building.

"Phaser on stun, Mr. Sulu."

They entered a courtyard, dominated by a huge brick fountain. Passing staff seemed not to pay them much attention. It was only when they entered the hospital waiting room that a nurse stopped them. Sulu stunned the woman with his phaser, then held up his tricorder. "I get his readings from that room, right there."

A 20th century policeman stood in front of the door, guarding it. Sulu aimed and stunned the man and they entered.

They found McCoy, unconscious on a bed, clad in a white medical gown, a sheet pulled up to his waist. Tubes ran from his neck, arm and torso, to containers of fluid. "Oh my God, Bones," Kirk whispered. He lay a hand on his friend. "Bones, wake up." He shook the man. "Bones! Wake up."

Bones opened his eyes, but didn't see him.

Jim shook the man again. "Bones! It's me, Jim!"

Bones now seemed to look at him. "Jim?" he said, plaintively. "Is it really you?"

"Bones, where's Spock? Bones, where's Spock?" Kirk was almost afraid to hear the answer.

"He's...uh...at home..."

"Home?"

Bones lifted up an arm, or at least tried to. "Yeah...The Sovereign...Apartments...but he's playing tonight..." Suddenly his mouth contorted into an expression of pure horror as he felt down at his abdomen. "The baby! They've taken my baby!" he screamed out. "My baby! Where is she?"

Sulu, stationed at the door, phaser drawn, looked in from the hallway. "We have to hurry, Captain."

"Scan for Spock, in a wider radius, twenty five miles." Kirk pulled out the IV lines from the wrist and neck, putting pressure on the wound when it started bleeding. He found some medical tape and cotton and put those on the man. He pulled off the sheet covering McCoy. He checked to see where the third line was coming from, realizing it was a catheter. He glanced up at Sulu, briefly, then grimaced as he pulled it out.

McCoy cried out in what sounded like pain. He wailed: "My baby...where's my baby? They took my baby... where is she?"

Kirk grabbed Bones by the shoulders. "Bones! Listen to me! There is no baby."

"Huh? I was pregnant, in labor...Spock delivered... my baby."

That couldn't be. Kirk shook his head at that chilling news. "There is no baby. We have to get you back to the Enterprise."

"The...Enterprise?"

"Yes, Bones. You're being rescued. There's no baby! You're hallucinating."

"No baby...?"

"No baby, Bones."

Bones appeared downright dismayed at that. He nodded, a tear running down his cheek. "I could have sworn it was real."

"Captain!" Spock suddenly appeared at the door, a newborn baby cradled in his arms. "It is very gratifying to see you again."

Kirk stared at the child, then nodded at Spock. He reached down, picking up the once again unconscious McCoy.


Kirk, Sulu, Spock, McCoy and the baby, went through the portal and vanished.

As they'd passed by a newspaper stand on the corner of Cherry and Broadway, the headline rang out: 'Local Man gives Birth to Baby!'


"Fascinating."

The medical facility proved deserted. The labs, the equipment, the inhabitants, the other victims, were gone.

Nothing to ever give the hint who had resided there, nothing to suggest what type of beings they really had been. Nothing to hint where they had disappeared to.

Since Kirk had Bones cradled in his arms, Sulu flipped open his communicator. "Enterprise. Five to beam up."


Dr. M'Benga shooed Kirk and Spock out of the ICU then commenced operating on McCoy. He removed the womb and ovaries (and nearly losing him, as he'd coded twice). McCoy's testosterone production was at nearly nil, the prostate and hypothalamus glands disabled. After he was stable, and while he had the CMO under, he set about hormone therapies, restoring McCoy to a more natural state for a human male.

Meanwhile, Dr. Sanchez focused his efforts on the studying the days old newborn infant.

Kirk stood with Spock, silently watching the examination.

"Commander Spock," Sanchez said, "the child is biologically yours and Dr. McCoy's. No other DNA is present. She's female, as you know. She is completely healthy. Seven pounds two ounces. Twenty three inches long. One fourth Vulcan, three fourth's Human. Nurse Chapel is designing a formula to meet the infant's unique nutritional needs."

Spock nodded his thanks and stood quietly as Sanchez ran the small Type II scanner over him. "You have no residual lasting physical effects," Sanchez told him. "Now as for the psychological damage from capture-"

"I am able to deal with the residual effects," Spock said quickly. Sanchez finished scanning him. He went over and retrieved the infant.

"They've only been gone a week," Kirk said, aghast. "What the hell happened to you two?" He stared at Spock, still clad in early twentieth century attire, the shirt covered in dried blood, cradling the quiet infant, not quite believing his eyes. "You were in route to the conference, then your shuttle suddenly disappeared. We finally tracked you to a sector of space lightyears from where you were."

"You found our shuttlecraft?"

"Yes. Eventually. Sitting in the facility's dock. The infant, how did you acquire it?"

"McCoy," Spock glanced down at the baby, seemingly in awe, "was pregnant for nine months."

"But you've been gone only a week!"

"They've actually aged ten months," Sanchez replied.

"You were on old Earth for ten months?"

"Nine months, Jim. Evidently we were in the captor's custody for one Standard month. I lost track of time while in their custody."

"And Bones...pregnant? Impregnated by whom?"

"Our captors with my DNA."

"Why?"

"I do not know."

"Who were your captors?"

"Again, I do not know."

"Think, Mr. Spock!" Jim gritted his teeth. "Who were they?"

"Captain...I do not know who or even what they were. I can only surmise that they were humanoid. They never spoke directly to us...though I have a vague recollection of communicating with them...they were robed in white. They wore a symbol I could not identify: two interlocking triangles. Their 'faces' were covered by grotesque white masques, theatrical in nature. I have never experienced such a modus operandi from any species we've yet encountered."

Kirk thought for a moment, then went to the wall comm. "Bridge."

"Scott here, Sir."

"Have Misters Sulu, Leslie and Connors, beam aboard the facility on the double. I want to find out precisely who those captor's identities were."

"Acknowledged, Captain."

"Kirk out." He turned back to Spock. "Bones had a C-Section in an early twentieth century hospital?"

"I performed the operation. Until there was a complication. I am assuming we were actually back in time?"

"You were. They had the portal trained on 1942, Earth, California. I don't like the look of things." Kirk glanced over at the closed ICU where M'Benga still had the door locked. "Bones let you perform a C-Section on him?"

"Affirmative."

"He must have been desperate."

"We were."

Kirk was about to grill the Vulcan more, when the door opened, and M'Benga appeared, wiping his face with a towel. "He's stable. Waking up."

They beelined it for the ICU.


The smell hit him…medicinal...before he opened his eyes. Blurry. Everything was grey or white, he couldn't make out the specific colors. But the smell...the clinical odor, smelled like sickbay...like home...He'd imagined he'd seen Jim...he'd wanted to go home so badly now he was...but it couldn't be...it was all a dream.

Figures stood over him, blurry, the voices muffled, sounded like Jim, M'Benga, Chapel, Spock...

oh God the captors, they had him again...tricking him...making him believe he was home...how cruel...

He screamed, then retched and vomited over the side...


"Shit," Dr. M'Benga hissed, leaping into action.

"What is it, Doctor?" Kirk demanded. "What's the matter with him?"

"He's got some residual morphine which is messing with his system. I thought it would be cycled out by now. Nurse Burke!" Burke appeared with the hypo. M'Benga did a quick visual inspection of the dosage then slammed it into McCoy's arm.

"Morphine?" Kirk asked.

"20th Century sedation," M'Benga explained.

"He also cannot see us," Spock said.

"What do you mean?" Kirk asked him.

Spock shifted the baby over, reached into his coat pocket, drawing out McCoy's glasses, holding them up. "He has a substantial visual impairment, does he not?"

M'Benga nodded. "His Retinax wore off of course. I can't give him a dosage yet, not until the morphine has cycled all the way out."


Kirk watched, arms folded, from his reluctant vantage point, the doorway between the CMO's office and the ward, as Spock, cradling the infant, sat down at McCoy's bedside. It had been suggested that the First Officer would be the one Bones woke up to as not to freak him out again.

Bones awoke, again extremely agitated, breathing heavily.

Spock leaned over and appeared to whisper to him, touching his face, seemingly in a caress. McCoy calmed down. Spock slid the ancient eyeglasses onto Bones' face, then placed the baby into his outstretched arms.

It was already an undeniably tender moment between the two of them before the First Officer leaned over even further and placed a kiss on the the Chief Medical Officer's lips.

Kirk gaped.

"Jim," McCoy called out, his voice mostly a croak, but at least now he seemed content, grinning at his baby, "your eyeballs are gonna fall outta their sockets!"

Jim padded into the ward, halting next to McCoy's bedside. "You look funny with glasses on and that ridiculous short haircut."

"I dunno, Jim, everybody else," he stared up at Spock. "Everybody else finds it attractive."

"Cute baby," Kirk said, to change the subject. The child had McCoy's nose and mouth, no eyebrows to speak of yet, delicate little pointed ears, (when McCoy pulled off the tiny little beanie to show him) a shock of black hair, a somber face, and huge inquisitive dark brown eyes. Just like Spock's.

"Jim, meet Myrtle Aiko McCoy Spock."

"Aiko means 'beloved' in Japanese," Spock said.

"I know that, thank you, Mr. Spock." Kirk scratched his neck. "Bones...when you're feeling up to it, you have a lot of 'splainin' to do."

"Sure thing, Jim."


"Spock," Jim said, watching Bones feed the kid with a bottle Nurse Chapel had brought him. "I'm going need you on watch, if you've been medically cleared."

"Of course Captain," Spock stood up from McCoy's bedside. "I will need to visit my quarters to change into my uniform."

"By all means."

Spock lay a hand on McCoy's shoulder, touched the baby on the head, then strode out.

"Hmm," McCoy said, watching him leave, shaking his head. He turned back to the feeding baby.

"Well, Bones. If that's what it takes to permanently wipe that scowl off of your face, putting a baby in your arms, I would have thought of that earlier."

"Believe me the scowl will come back." Speaking in a sing songly voice to the baby, McCoy added: "Just as soon as Mommy finds out how much everybody's screwed up his sickbay and then having to deal with that mountain of paperwork waiting for him in his office."


In his quarters, Spock removed his tie, his cufflinks. He removed the jacket, then his button shirt with McCoy's blood and his hat. He removed his wing tipped black and white shoes, and trousers, finally standing in his undershirt and boxer style shorts. He dug in the jacket's pockets. Inside it, a dance ticket from the Majestic Ballroom, a ballpoint pen and a handwritten note:

'You better eat this lunch, dammit.'

Love,

L'

In the other pocket, he discovered a photograph. He studied it. He had not remembered putting it there. Perhaps Carolyn had passed it to him when she had bailed him out of the downtown jail? The photo featured McCoy, Myrtle, Carolyn and himself at the doctor's birthday party.

He went to remove McCoy's pinky ring. He hesitated, then decided to leave it on his finger. The item might be lost, otherwise.

He set the objects gently down on his nightstand. He hung the civilian attire up in his closet. Were he McCoy, he might say the early 20th century now felt like a dream.


"You've only been gone a week, Bones."

"Yeah...that's what M'Benga said. Damnedest thing."

"What was it like, living during World War II, for nine months? Must have been awful. No modern conveniences. I stuck it out for a week in 1930. I couldn't have lasted as long as you."

McCoy looked up from the baby. "It wasn't bad. I mean, besides dealing with the numerous air raids and blackouts."

"Long Beach only had one air raid. In February."

"No, there were several. At least five to seven. You'd have to ask Spock precisely how many. Even during the birth, there was an air raid." He gulped and added: "I have to say the best part of being back in time was sharing a tiny apartment with Spock."

"You enjoyed being roommates with Spock? You're joking."

"Not at all. I liked…waiting on him. Fixing him his meals. At least I made sure he ate, right?" McCoy gave a sheepish grin. "And they used real money, telephones, pens and paper, the music on acetate disks sounded better, there was dancing, parties, the town of Long Beach had this amusement park on the water, and their vanilla malts-"

"Vanilla malts?" Kirk smiled.

"Yes. I was addicted to those things."

"Usually you're addicted to Saurian Brandy."

The smile faded into a glare. McCoy turned his attention back to the baby, who was finishing up the bottle. "I'm not addicted to booze. Ten months away from it has proved it. No reconsituted food. It was the real deal and tasty too. I'm gonna have to go on a diet, get back to my regulation weight."

"Later, when you recover."

"Of course, Jim."

"Tell me about the captors."

"Yeah, them." McCoy shook his head. "I don't know. I can't...I have no idea who they were. What they looked like, other than their creepy white gas masks, white robes, their symbols on their attire...two interlocking triangles. Spock'd been doing some rudimentary research on who they might be."

"I'm sure he's writing a report as we speak. You have months old injuries and indications of psycological and physical torture."

"I don't know why they did it…. They never asked us for anything, never said what they wanted...they didn't demand any information. It seemed like they simply wanted to experiment on me. Well, either their experiment was success or a failure to them."

"We'll find them, Bones. You know me, I always come through."

"You sure do, Jim. You sure do. I never gave up hope you'd rescue us. You know that."

"I know, Bones. I know."

Myrtle finished her formula and McCoy gently pulled the bottle out of her mouth. He set it down next to him then turned her over, protecting the neck, and laid her on his cloth covered shoulder, and began rubbing her back and patting it.

"You're a natural, Bones."

"Of course I am, Jim. It's like riding a bike."

"You have to burp a quarter Vulcan baby?" Jim teased.

"Yep."

"Wonder if Spock ever burped as a baby."

"Spock has all of the bodily functions we have. He just doesn't admit to it."

"You got to know him, quite well, didn't you, Bones."

"Yeah."

"So you two are..." Jim motioned. "Together?"

"I don't know," McCoy replied.

"It seemed like..."

"I know what it seems like, but I think...no, I know he's only doing it because of my hormone deficiency and the PTSD. To compensate for that. We did have a talk about that, before. It would be the only logical reason for his behavior."

"Is there a chance he could be in love with you?"

"No. Not at all. At least...I don't think...I don't think so."

"Alright. Just, wondering. I always thought you liked women."

McCoy smiled. "I did." He blushed. "But the sex of an individual doesn't matter, it's the person."

"You're right, Bones. And, you two seemed to be enjoying yourself," Jim noted. "Kissing."

"Jim," McCoy said, clearing his throat and changing the subject. "You know, I always piss on the twentieth century surgeons, needles and sutures, but one of them down there, saved my life."

"Not M'Benga?"

"Well, yeah, M'Benga, too. I coded during his op and he brought me back. But he informed me that he didn't perform the internal repairs nor suction the blood out, nor stitch me back up, initially. That was the other surgeon."

"So, Spock performed the C-section?"

"Yeah, he did great! And then we tried to get the placenta out, and I hemorrhaged. I should be dead! Then I woke up here. I could have gone on living with the womb and ovaries. I mean they would have affected me physically, I might have been a enunich for the remainder of my life, but I could have gone on living. So whoever it was in the twentieth century, I wish I could thank them for saving my life."

Myrtle burped, and McCoy chuckled. "Good baby."

"She never cries," Jim noted.

"No, she doesn't. She's perfect." McCoy stared down at her. "A little too perfect."

'help me!' he pounds on the inside of the glass coffin. he presses both palms against it, inches from his face. 'help me!'

through the glass, he sees the little girl, dressed all in white, holding a white balloon.

'bye bye, spaceman!' she says. she waves.

'bye bye,' he whispers.

suddenly he's looking out, from inside a gas mask.

it's clausterphobic, he can hear his breaths...

"Bones! BONES!" McCoy felt his friend's hand on his shoulder. "You're home. You're alright. You're gonna be okay."

"Yeah, Jim..." McCoy chuckled faintly, looked down at the now sleeping Myrtle. "Sorry...Gonna take a while and maybe some psych sessions with Dr. M'Benga, to feel like myself again."

"I know, Bones. I know."


There was a ship wide: 'Congratulations, Dr. McCoy...and Mr. Spock' party and baby shower-organized jointly by Nurse Chapel, Mr. Chekov, Yeoman Rand and Lieutenant Uhura- supplying the good doctor (and Spock) with a 'pink' (not a white) bassinet, a huge assortment of stuffed toys, baby blankets, recieving blankets, a stroller, diapers, bottles, and anything else an infant might require. McCoy still remained in sickbay, obviously thrilled at the gifts, but grumbling about being stuck as a patient: "Nothing wrong with me! You don't keep women in the infirmary this long after giving birth! Just let me go back to my quarters!"

Tongues had been waggling. Ship's scuttlebutt moves faster than any warp drive. Within a day, Admiral Komack (Jim hadn't even contacted the man yet) had sent a deep space transmission: "What's this I hear, about your First Officer and Chief Medical Officer conceiving a child?"

Starfleet Medical, of course, wanted a hold of McCoy and the baby, wanted them at the starbase hospital to 'run tests'. But in reality it would be to study them. McCoy was the oldest human male so far to give birth. And Myrtle was the first Vulcan Human hybrid child birthed by a male.

And so, with much wrangling, Jim managed to narrowly avoid getting McCoy and the baby incarcerated there. As First Officer, Spock was required to remain on board the Enterprise, and Spock was the other parent of the child. It was necessary for Vulcans to have easy proximity to their infant children to foster strong mental 'family bonds'. Spock was indispensable as the best First Officer in the fleet. Therefore, Kirk had argued to Komack, the child and it's father and 'Mother'-as McCoy insisted on referring to himself- deserved to remain together on board. Jim could also not do without the best Chief Medical Officer in the fleet, even in an obviously reduced capacity as he would serve for some time.

Meanwhile, Kirk had focused on searching for the alien captors, based on the small clues Spock and McCoy had been able to give him. There was a strong possibility that Earth and the entire Federation was in terrible danger. Kirk was aware that time was running out, he needed to find them, stop them.


After running more tests on McCoy and the baby to make absolutely certain they were 'oh four', McCoy and the baby were released from Sickbay. "Just making absolutely sure," M'Benga had told McCoy. "I'm doing my job!"

"I know that!" McCoy had fumed. But with the twinkle in his eyes, it was obvious he had been grateful for M'Benga and Sanchez's assistance. However it didn't stop him from making a big scene upon being released: "It's about time, you damned paranoid physicians!"

"Bones," Jim said. "Should you swear so much in front of the baby?"

"Probably not."

Spock studied the bulkhead ceiling.

"Spock," McCoy asked him. "Would you like to carry our daughter back to my quarters?"

"Of course," Spock said. McCoy flashed him a slightly flirtatious glance then gently passed over the infant.

Kirk rolled his eyes. "Then after that, Spock, I need you up on the bridge...uh...later today, when you're ready. Beta shift?"

"Affirmative, Captain."

"Oh, don't look at me like that, Mr. Spock. I've assigned you light duty. Put you on half watch. So you can spend much of your time with your kid. At least temporarily."

"Captain, I am perfectly capable of fulfilling my duties."

"That baby sure is cute. Am I the Godfather? And her uncle? I think I should make that an order."

"Jim," McCoy said, impatiently bouncing on his heels. "We're heading over to my quarters! We'll see ya, huh?"


"Ahhh, finally, the old cabin. Just as cramped as our apartment, eh Spock? Computer raise temperature to 90 degrees Farenheint."

"Farenheint?" Spock raised an eyebrow.

McCoy whispered: "Habit. Do you miss that drafty old place? With the...broken window you repaired? Eh, Spock?" He chuckled and looked at Spock holding the sleeping bundle of joy and felt the sudden blast of warm air. "Goodness, gracious. I'm gonna melt, but Myrtle needs it that hot if she's gonna live in here."

"And I."

McCoy blushed and nodded. "Yes." He cleared his throat and glanced over at the corner. "Look at that mountain of baby stuff. Just like...before..."

Spock noted the new basinette. "Pink."

"Of course it is. Unleaded paint."

"Indeed."

"Why don't you...uh...put her in it? Test it out...see if the basinette is in working order."

"Why would it not be?"

"Fine, then keep on holding her. You look really comfortable...being a daddy."

"I am, rather. I had not thought I would take to it so well, but I have."

"Like a duck to water." McCoy laughed. "You look so strange in your uniform. I got used to you...in uh...early twentieth century civvies."

"And I, you."

McCoy glanced down at himself. "Yeah, but i'm still wearing my 'sickbay inmate' jumpsuit. Thought they'd never cut me loose. At this point, I'm gonna need a size larger uniform. No more eyeglasses." He touched the bridge of his nose. "Maybe I'll wear them sometimes, when I get nostalgic. Spock? Why doesn't she ever cry? Is that normal?"

"For a Vulcan child, yes. They tend to be quite content...due to the family bond."

"She's bonded to you?"

"She is. I did not think it feasible, as she is only a quarter Vulcan, but it was."

"I'm...a little jealous of that...I have to admit." McCoy caressed her cheek. "How is she doing?"

"She is extremely satisfied and happy."

"Is she? I am glad. I'm gonna have to go by body language, you know...to notify me when she's hungry, needs to be changed. Her cries, if she ever does so. Are you sure she's okay?"

"Yes."

McCoy stood up and walked over to the drinks cabinet. "Would you like a brandy, Mr. Spock?"

Spock sat down on the couch. He gently shifted the now dozing infant over to the crook of his arm so that he had a free hand. "Yes, I believe so."

McCoy poured them both drinks, brought them over, sitting down next to Spock on the couch. He pulled up one side of the baby's knitted pink hat. "I can't stop looking at these adorable little pointy ears." He traced one finger over the shell. "Wait till I tell Joanna she has a sister. I'm gonna contact them, as soon as we're close enough to Earth's quadrant to send a transmission."

"Yes. I have already notified my parents, they are currently on Episilon IV."

They were silent for a few moments, until McCoy said: "I can't believe we have a baby. You and I, Mr. Spock have offspring. Together. Never in a million years would I ever have thought that would happen."

"Agreed. Even while presented with irrefutable physical evidence of such, this child, this is indeed, difficult to believe."

"Jim thinks you and I appear dazed."

"We have been through quite a lot, have we not?"

McCoy nodded. "Uh, Spock...how are we going to do this? Co-parenting, I mean...you can have as much access to her as you want...you can take her to Vulcan to visit her grandparents and family. I mean I love her dearly but I'm not about to hog her. And I mean, you're gonna want time with her aboard ship, and you can have as much time as you want, you know...I uh..."

"May I teach her the Vulcan language?"

"Of course. She's your daughter, too. But," McCoy smiled, coyly, "only if you teach me, too."

"I would be delighted."

McCoy glanced up in surprise at Spock's choice of words. "You would?"

Spock held up his glass. "Cheers."

McCoy clinked it with his. "Oh, you know how to do it, huh? What or who are we toasting? Little Myrtle?"

"As well as Carolyn and the late Myrtle."

"They were both really something, Spock. Fine women. I wonder what became of Miss Carolyn Meagher."

"She bailed me out of jail."

"You mean you didn't break out?"

"The bars proved exceedingly strong. No guards in the immediate vicinity."

"No one around to work your vulcan voodoo on?"

"Carolyn proved much quicker and efficient." In the crook of Spock's arm, her head carefully protected, Myrtle sighed. McCoy chuckled.

They both took sips of their respective drinks. Spock leaned over slightly to place his glass on the adjacent table. McCoy assisted him by taking it from him and setting it down. "Computer, play some music, it's a little too quiet in here."

'Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy' came on.

"You did that, you bastard, didn't you?" McCoy said, mildly. "It sounds better on a 78 record doesn't it?"

"Affirmative."

"I see nothing wakes up this kid. This is good practice, wait till she gets to listen to all those awful red alerts."

"She was born during an air raid siren."

"That she was, Mr. Spock, that she was."

After a few moments of listening to the music, it finished. Spock stood up. "I will put her to bed, now."

"If she'll fit in there, with all those stuffed animals."

McCoy shifted some of them over, picked up a clown doll. "Uh no," he said, quickly shoving it into a drawer. He scooped up a stuffed Sehlat toy complete with fangs. "Jim, I presume?"

Spock nodded and laid her down. McCoy snuggled the sehlat next to her, then a warm blanket over the top.

Together, they walked back over to the couch.

But before Spock could sit down again, suddenly McCoy lunged forward, sliding his arms around the Vulcan, hugging him tightly. "We're home." He nuzzled his face into Spock's shoulder. Spock's own arms came around him. "My God, Spock...we made it...we're home! We're home, right? I'm not imagining things, am I?" Still in Spock's arms he searched the Vulcan's face.

"This is real."

McCoy laid his head on Spock's shoulder, then suddenly drew back, out of the embrace. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I keep...pawing on you so much...you uh, you've been very accomodating, you know... more affectionate and I appreciate that, I really do, but..."

"Leonard," Spock said. He pulled McCoy to him again by the scruff of the neck. "I do believe you are babbling." McCoy suddenly felt the Vulcan's warm mouth on his.

McCoy broke the kiss and drew back. "Spock."

"Shhhh." Spock pulled him to him again. "Myrtle's parents belong together, do they not?"

McCoy pulled back yet again. "So this is because of the baby? Spock you don't have to!"

"Would you mind not pulling away from me?"

"Spock...you don't..."

"Leonard. I have...been attracted to you for some time."

"Me?"

Spock nodded. "Umm. Sharing an apartment with you only enhanced my desire for you," he admitted.

McCoy stopped fighting it, tilted his head to deepen the kiss. He moaned in Spock's clutches, till after long moments they broke apart. "Holy shit." His eyes widened at the familiar feeling down south.

"What is it?"

"I have a..." He'd felt the tightening and the tingling but glanced down just to make sure. "I have an erection," he hissed. "Goddamn, I have an erection!"

"One would think that should not be so unusual, being as we have engaged in kissing."

"No...this is the first time in ten months...that I...oh my God! I thought I lost them forever! I couldn't get hard since the kidnapping. M'Benga, he worked his magic on me! Holy hell!"

"Are you going to lose conciousness?"

"No, don't be a smart ass. Do you mind...uh..." McCoy blushed. "It ain't gonna go away on it's own. Do you mind watching the baby while I uh...take a shower?"

"Yes, I do mind."

McCoy's face fell. "Oh."

Spock pulled him closer again, by the shoulders, so that the erection now pressed into his thigh, in turn McCoy could feel Spock's very noticable erection poking into his. He gulped as Spock replied: "I mind you engaging in solo masterbation at this very moment, when I am perfectly capable of assisting you. Of...oh how do you humans put it? Making you come. That is, if you are able to engage in sexual activity."

McCoy groaned as a wave of desire hit him. He yanked Spock over to the bed by the wrist, not stopping until they both fell onto it with a thump. "I'm able."

"Are you certain you are sufficiently recovered?"

"I'm fine, Spock. Believe me, I am fine."

They lay side by side, smashed up against one another, mouths microns apart, then moving together with a wet, messy kiss. Spock palmed McCoy's length through the sickbay jumpsuit. McCoy could feel the heated hand right through the fabric. "Ohhh," McCoy moaned. "Ohhhh. You keep that up, not gonna last very long."

Spock suddenly sat up on his haunches and began unfastening McCoy's jumpsuit. McCoy moaned again as he maneuvered himself out of it.

Spock paused at the sight of McCoy's nude body, staring at his midsection.

McCoy sat up on his elbows as Spock ran a finger down the insision scar right above the pubic hair, seemingly entranced.

"You did that," McCoy said, proudly. "You delivered our baby."

"You are not going to have this erased?"

"Hell no, are you kidding me? It's a badge of honor. You don't want me to get rid of it, do you?"

"No. I prefer it to remain. I was..." Spock gulped.

"Oh hell, Spock, come here." McCoy yanked him towards him again.


It was the shortest blow-job ever in his personal history, but by far the most emotional one he'd ever experienced. He surreptitiously wiped a tear from his eye.


McCoy sat in his office, holding Myrtle, scowling at the PADD.

"See Myrtle, I told you, everybody messed up Mommy's sickbay while he was gone, didin't I tell you that was gonna happen, Pumpkin? Didn't I say that, 'nobody around here bothers to chart worth a crap'." He took the stylus, punched a command and closed up the files on the PADD.

Myrtle blinked her huge brown eyes at him.

"You hungry? Come on, I'll get your bottle ready." He retrieved the bottle in the synthesiser. He sat back down, and began feeding her. "You know when you were born in 1942, they didn't have these fancy synthesisers, folks had to warm up bottles in a pot of water on the stove. Can you believe that?"

Myrtle looked at him as she drank her formula.

"You have got the most gorgeous brown eyes, just like your daddy, don't tell him I said that, though." He glanced up and smiled at the recently entered Spock. "Hello."

"Hello." Spock folded his arms.

"Thought you were on shift."

"Meal break."

"Oh. Were you going get something to eat from Officer's mess, or do you want to join me here?"

"I wished to speak with you."

"Hang on, let me finish feeding the little sweetheart, here." He gently slid the teat of the bottle from her mouth, set it on the desk, then shifted her over to his shoulder, placing a small towel underneath her, rubbing her back.

Spock came around the desk, laid a hand on the infant for a few moments He moved back and sat down across from them. "I thought perhaps I should return your ring." He began to twist off the gold pinky ring.

"Oh...that. You know Spock. You should just keep it. I got so used to you wearing it, and you ain't going nowhere, right?"

"Affirmative."

"You dump me and I get mother's ring back, alright?"

"Affirmative. But Dr. McCoy, what ring shall you wear? You were rather enamored of this one."

"I don't know, I guess I'll have to get me another..." He halted as Spock held up another gold ring, seemingly produced out of thin air. "What the hell is that?"

"A ring."

"I see that, Mr. Spock." He studied the Vulcan's face as Spock reached over and slid it onto his left hand, on his ring finger.

"I need to discuss with you the concept of Vulcan marital bonds."

McCoy shook his head and snorted as he continued rubbing the baby's back. "You son of a bitch. What did Jim have to say about this?"

"He literally spat out his coffee."

"I'll bet. We're having an Earth ceremony, along with the Vulcan one."

"Of course."

"Spock?"

"Yes, Leonard?"

"I love you."

"As I love you, and the baby...always." Spock held up two fingers.

McCoy reached over, with the free hand and touched his to Spock's. "There's no place like home," he whispered. "Right, Spock?"

"Indeed."

Myrtle chose that moment to let out a huge belch. McCoy burst out laughing.

"How like her mother," Spock said.


THE END

Thanks for reading!

This is the story's official ending. However, soon there will be an optional alternate ending: 'what if they never returned home?'