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Fertilion 7. Stardate 3389.5
Well, Scotty HAD been looking forward to the away mission. He didn’t get off the ship too often, and he needed the fresh air, far from the engines for once.
But not this badly.
As of now, he found himself doubled over, screaming out in pain, after a FLOWER, of all acursed things, shot him in the abdomen. McCoy was running a tricorder over him, and he wiped his forehead as he read the results.
“Jim! Spock!” He hollered to catch the attention of the two, who were far ahead.
“What happened, Scotty?” Jim asked as they jogged up to their side, “Bones?”
McCoy looked up at him, his brows furrowed with concern. “We need to beam back up to the ship immediately.”
“All of us, Doctor?” Spock questioned.
“Until I understand what’s caused this reading…absolutely, Mister Spock.”
Just as he felt the fuzz of the transporter beam, Scotty lost consciousness.
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An indeterminable amount of time later, Scotty found himself in a BioBed, slowly blinking awake once more. Everything in the room was still blurry, but he could make out three voices he knew by heart, standing just out of sight.
“For God’s sake, Jim, if you can’t control yourself, I’ll have to kick you out of my Sickbay. This doesn’t…”
“Bones, you can’t….”
“Captain, Doctor McCoy is correct. Your energy could be more productive elsewhere. Perhaps you could join me in the labs? I could use updated samples of your DNA if -”
“No. Spock, no. If anyone needs me, I’ll be in my quarters.”
The doors slid open and close once.
“Give him space. He’s going to be…upset for a good while. I’ll send you the DNA samples from his last physical and the darts I extracted from Scotty, you can start there. When I’ve got time, I’ll join ya. Keep this between the four of us, alright? No crewman is to know what you’re working on. I’m holding you to the same doctor-patient confidentiality I’m expected to keep, you hear?”
“Understood, Doctor. If I can offer any assistance…”
Another moment passed, and the door slid open and closed again. With the room coming into view better, Scotty blinked harder a couple of times, groaned, and began to sit up. In a moment, McCoy was at his side.
“Not quite yet, I need you to lean back down. That innocent little flower got you pretty good, I’m afraid. How are you feeling?”
Scotty offered a weak smile, “Like I just got shot by a flower. I heard ya talkin’ to the Captain and Mister Spock, Doc. I’d rather ya jus’ tell me what I’m facing, if you don’t mind.”
McCoy sighed and pulled a rolling chair next to the edge of his BioBed. “Alright. There’s no easy way for me to deliver this news to you, so just hold on to your hat. I’ve got Spock working on the how’s and why’s, and I’m sure he’ll have some information for you soon.” He paused, analyzing Scotty’s face and body language. Noting he wasn’t particularly distressed, in a fair state of mind, he decided to swiftly continue. “You’re pregnant.”
“That…” He shook his head, his brows furrowed, pressed firm together in confusion, “That ain’t possible, lad. Surely, you can’t be serious.”
“Serious as a heart attack. Or, in your case, a pregnancy,” McCoy responded, handing him a PADD with his medical records in it- tricorder readings and scans over the course of hours, indicating the rapid development of a uterus and implantation of a fertilized egg, an image of a zygote. “And don’t call me Shirley. There’s an answer for why somewhere, and we’re going to find it. Our running theory is a chemical compound in the darts of the flower…”
“If…” Scotty cut him off, “If I am carrying a babe…is it human? Is it…mine?”
McCoy took a deep breath in, “It’s human, and yours. There’s also…a second parent.”
“Who?” Scotty squeezed his eyes shut, already putting the pieces together from what little he’d heard before.
“It’s Jim, Scotty. Spock theorizes that he touched the flower as he passed it, leaving some skin or hair on the plant, pollinating it, somehow, and when it was done processing his DNA, it loaded it up into the darts and shot at the nearest moving compatible mammal. That just happened to be you.”
“Pregnant with my Captain’s baby. Aye, it’s like a poorly-writ Harlequin novel,” Scotty rubbed his eyes, still not quite believing what he’d just heard. Regardless, he knew McCoy well enough to know he’d never pull a prank like that on him.
“I can’t say I disagree,” McCoy chuckled, “Now, I’ll give you some time. I want you to know, the choice is entirely yours as to what you’d like to do from here. I’m going to arrange counseling services for you, and don’t you try to argue with me on that, because this is, well, unexpected, to say the least. I want to keep you here overnight, make sure there’s no...delayed effects from the flowers, or sudden rejection from your new womb.”
Scotty nodded, and McCoy stood. At the foot of Scotty’s bed, he turned back around, and bounced the PADD in his hand a couple of times, before adding, “Jim’ll want to speak to you at some point, but I won’t allow him in here until you’ve told me you’re ready to have that...conversation with him.”
“Thank ya, sir, but I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” Scotty tried to grin, “It’ll be long after I’m discharged before I’m ready for that.”
McCoy gave him one more understanding nod coupled with a kind smile before leaving him to his thoughts. Scotty exhaled heavily and dropped his head back on the pillow, cursing quietly. All for a little fresh air.
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To his surprise, Spock stopped in to visit the next morning. “Mister Scott,” He announced his presence, “Are you welcoming visitors this morning?”
Scotty looked up from his personal PADD, where he’d been reading the latest engineering journals. “Mornin’, Mister Spock. What can I do for ya?”
“I thought you may appreciate an update on our discoveries. As suspected, the captain had left skin cells on a fertile plant, which were processed into…”
“I understand, Mister Spock. Thank you,” He smiled politely.
“Ah. Yes. It seems the reasoning would be that the majority of mammalian lifeforms on Fertilion 7 are unable to breed organically, thus some assistance is necessary. Had we not discovered the fact in this way, I would say it’s an interesting phenomenon.”
“And since we did?” Scotty responded, nearly in a teasing tone. Nearly, but not quite; he wasn’t much in the joking mood. Since the day before, the reality of the situation had begun to sink in, as McCoy had hovered, scanned, and pestered him over and over the entire night and all morning.
Spock tilted his head and clasped his hands behind his back, “I would say it could use some refinement in its technique. Specifically, in its ability to distinguish between consenting individuals.”
“I can’t argue with that, sir. At least, Doctor McCoy says another hour, and he’ll be comfortable releasing me. I could do for some rest in my own quarters.” Scotty admitted.
“Of course. I find the ambiance of Sickbay most disturbing myself. Rest well, Mister Scott. I will leave you be.”
“Mister Spock, a moment more, if ya will,” Scotty stopped him from leaving. Spock turned his attention back to him with a curious quirked brow, waiting patiently for him to continue. “I’ve decided to carry the babe to term.”
Spock raised both brows and nodded, “That is your prerogative. If you have not yet informed Doctor McCoy, I suggest you do so at the earliest convenience so proper medical accommodations can be made. I will begin to research the proper protocol for expectant Starfleet personnel and I shall forward you the guidelines and expectations, as well as your workplace rights.”
“Thank you, sir. I told Doctor McCoy last night. Have you had any talks with Captain Kirk about the...situation?” He asked tentatively. McCoy had refused to indulge him, saying he needed to focus on resting, and he could have his own conversation with the man when the time was right.
He hesitated, indicating to Scotty he had, in fact, had a discussion of some kind with him. “It is perhaps best to wait until you have a chance to discuss the matter with him personally.”
Scotty sighed. “Aye, sir.”
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He had Onik-Ah, his Aurelian lover, meet him in his quarters the next evening.
“Haven’t seen you in days,” She commented, striding into Scotty’s room with confidence, her shoulders rolled back. She perched on the corner of his desk and crossed her knees, “And just like that, you think you can call me in here, expecting to ruffle my feathers?”
“No, no,” Scotty quickly said, waving his hands, “It’s not like that at all, m’dear.” He sighed, and walked around her, sitting in the chair on the opposite side of the desk. “As part of our security team, you’ve attended ground missions, yes?”
Onik-Ah’s head tilted with curiosity, her feathered brow raised. “What a ridiculous question. You know this.”
“Then…” Scotty sighed again, “Ye’ll understand if I say, I’ve got a wee haggis in tha’ oven, it’s tha Captain's, and it’s all due to...some flower shooting me with a dart full o’ pregnant.”
“Nooo…” She slowly stated, “I don’t believe I’ve heard such a thing.”
“You’ve never heard of the flower that gets men pregnant?” Scotty said in mock shock.
She didn’t dignify him with a response, only crossed her arms tightly.
“Mister Spock is investigating it,” Scotty continued, annoyed that she hadn’t given even a chuckle at his joke, “The whole thing is malarkey, but. Aye, what can ye do?” He rubbed his forehead, feeling a headache start.
“You aren’t joking.” She said, less than asked.
“’Fraid not,” he confirmed.
Onik-Ah sat quietly for a moment, leveling him with her blue eyes. Finally, she responded, “People have babies all the time. We’ll get through this. Together.” Scotty’s eyes watered as she wrapped her wings around his shoulders, embracing him in a warm and reassuring hug.
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It was another week and a half before he saw Kirk. McCoy had placed him on light duty, and he had already attended one counseling session. They had done a swell job at professionally avoiding one another, quietly working opposing shifts. It wasn’t so difficult; an engineer’s light duty is little more than supervising and advising, and he’d found he’d only been necessary for the first half of the day the majority of the time. He’d trained quite an efficient crew, and it showed. But the game got old quickly, and he decided to send a message requesting Kirk to come by for a discussion once his own shift was over.
Kirk looked unnatural in Scotty’s quarters. He looked less like the Starship captain they all looked up to, and more like a man. With his arms locked behind his back, he paced around the small room. Scotty sat reclined in his big chair. He’d already told Kirk he continuing with the pregnancy, and was waiting for his response.
“I don’t want you to have this child! You…Scotty, you must understand…” Kirk’s voice was not yet raised, but it teetering on the edge as he began to get heated, “I cannot have a subordinate aboard this ship carry my child. It would be entirely inappropriate. It could be career ending. A…a PR nightmare, and to try to explain to Starfleet command. I could lose my captaincy. And I simply have no interest in fathering yet another child, not currently. I already so rarely see David…Scotty, you have to have an abortion. You can’t have this child. Please, I beg you. I can’t have a kid with you,” he pleaded.
“Sir, I cannot have an abortion,” came Scotty’s firm reply, “But as for havin’ a child with me, you’ll have no troubles or disagreements on my part.”
Kirk stopped pacing and dropped in a chair across from Scotty. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t want to have a child myself, sir. Much less with another man, my God. Aye, we have little control over the situation, as what’s done is done, but I cannot bring myself to terminate the babe. It’s not it’s fault, ye see. I’ll carry the wee thing to term, and adopt it out,” Scotty explained.
“Oh. Ah. I…see. In that case, I…apologize for jumping to conclusions,” Kirk stood and straightened his uniform out, coughing lightly. “I will...Um. If you need anything, you understand.”
Scotty couldn’t say he didn’t get a sort of satisfaction from seeing him so uncomfortable, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen an exit so quick.
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Around twelve weeks later, Scotty got to see the baby. He supposed it was cute enough; as cute as any fetus could be, he thought. He’d spent the past few months so ill that he truthfully didn’t care too much, and was beginning to think Kirk was right about the abortion. He couldn’t eat, couldn’t drink, couldn’t work. Most nights, he couldn’t sleep. His whole life was feeling like one ‘can’t’ after another, and it was making him miserable.
“We’re adopting the babe out, Doc,” Scotty informed him as he lay back on the BioBed. “I don’t need any more information than if it’s healthy.”
“That right?” McCoy asked with a quirked brow, “How’d you land on that decision?”
“We’re both career men.”
“Mm,” McCoy continued to tap notes into his PADD, “And you’ve talked this over with your counselor?”
“Yes, sir. She suggested the idea. I couldn’t bring myself to consider having an abortion, but I can’t just have a child.”
Peering over at him with concerned blue eyes, McCoy responded, “How much thought have you put into this?”
Scotty looked at the screen displaying the fetus, and felt a wave of nausea hit him. “Since the day after the diagnosis, Doc. I cannot do it.”
McCoy nodded, “It’s better to know that now than five years from now. Me, I loved being a dad and raising my girl. But, it’s certainly not for the faint of heart. Or even the strongest of hearts who simply aren’t interested or prepared. You and the baby look great, Mister Scotty. You’re free to go. I want you in for another visit in four weeks, got it?”
“Sage advice, Len. I’ll be seein’ you on the Starbase tonight? Round of poker?”
“Wouldn’t miss it. Now, git out of my Sickbay, I have other appointments to get to.”
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“I need you to stop me and tell me if I’m out of line, and I’ll never bring it up again,” McCoy declared as he strode into Scotty’s quarters a couple of weeks later.
“Oh?” He responded, surprised. “What’s on your mind, Len?”
He sighed and perched on the corner of Scotty’s desk, looking over at the man laying on his bed. “I’m interested in adopting the baby. Hell, I’m only forty, I’ve got another one in me. Problem is, I’d be raisin’ it here, on the ship. Now, I wouldn’t want to make either you or Jim uncomfortable with that.”
Scotty sat up, blinking in surprise. “I…Are ya sure, Len? You’re serious?”
“Like a heart attack, Monty,” McCoy said with complete sincerity.
“Mind if I talk to Captain Kirk about it, first?” he responded, “That’d be a dream for me, and you know it. I trust you. But-”
“No, of course. I’d expect nothin’ less.” McCoy cleared his throat and stood, changing the subject as he moved to Scotty’s makeshift workbench, “What’re you takin’ apart this week?” Scotty grinned, then joined his side as he began explaining the intricacies of vintage sergers.
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“Bones wants to adopt our kid? Why wouldn’t he ask me myself?” Kirk frowned as he leaned into his hands, elbows propped on his desk.
“Ye’ve made it very clear you don’t want anything to do with the child, Captain. It’s hardly our kid. Truthfully, it’s only by consideration that I’m talking it over with ya.” Scotty replied cooly. Although he’d known from the jump that Kirk had no interest in the pregnancy, he was a small amount annoyed by this point that he didn’t really ask much about how Scotty was doing with it. He’d awkwardly asked around it, but never directly. In his right mind, it wouldn’t bother him. Scotty chalked it up to hormones.
“Well, I-I know that…Still, McCoy is my best friend. And I’m the Captain of this ship, I need to approve these sorts of changes-”
“Captain,” Scotty cut him off, wrapping his knuckles on the desk, “Nothin’ is set in stone. But tha’ fact of the matter remains, the babe needs to be adopted by somebody, an’ I’d rather it be raised by someone I know and trust. Doctor McCoy fits the bill.”
Kirk sighed, “You’re right. I don’t love the idea of having an infant on a starship, but you’re right. Let him know he has our blessing, and…I’ll start filling out the paperwork to let Starfleet know.”
“You won’t regret it, sir. He’s a good man. He’ll raise it right,” Scotty assured.
“I know that,” Jim admitted, “It’s simply…an odd situation, all around.”
“Oh, that I understand. You nervous?” He asked kindly.
Jim nodded, “Yes, I suppose I am.”
“Well, it’s your first time,” Scotty empathized.
He shook his head and sighed, “No, I’ve been nervous lots of times.” His lips tightened into a concentrated line once more before easing into a smile, “How about the you all come around for dinner? We’ll…discuss, or, or celebrate, this…occasion.”
Scotty blinked, but nodded. “Certainly, Captain. I’ll be there. But, ah, nothin’ with onions, if ye don’t mind.”
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“You’re not going because you’re not invited, it’s as simple as that. Now, why can’t you leave me be?” Scotty was steaming, his mood having rapidly shifted, as he stomped around the room, attempting to put a decent looking outfit together that still fit his rounding belly. Even though the bump was still slight at 14 weeks, the form-fitting nature of the garments Starfleet provided were restricting, to put it mildly, and the civilian clothes he had-well, it’s not like he’d been planning on getting pregnant when he’d packed years ago.
“Why wouldn’t I be invited? I’ve been your partner for two years now- I’ve been attending these dinners with you for almost as long. I’m the one supporting you through this pregnancy, haven’t I the right-”
“Kirk did not say, ‘Come for dinner, oh, and bring everyone you bloody know!’” Scotty erupted, “I’m the one havin’ the baby, Kirk’s the biological father, and McCoy’s the one adoptin’ it, I don’t see how you’re thinkin’ you have a right to be involved at all!” Onik-Ah opened her beak to respond, but Scotty cut her off, “No! I don’t want to hear it! You’re not goin’ and that’s final.”
She bristled, puffing her feathers out. She shook her head and her wings out as she turned on her heel and stomped out the door.
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“Just you, Scotty?” Jim asked, looking up at him as he entered the room. McCoy had already arrived, and gave him a questioning look, as well. “I would’ve thought Onik-Ah would have liked to…celebrate with us.”
“Ah…” Scotty shifted uncomfortably, then moved to take a seat. “She’s preoccupied tonight, I’m afraid. Sends her hellos.”
“Shame. You’re quite a lucky fellow, Mister Scott,” McCoy raised his glass, “I like that gal. You’ll let her know that if she’d like to share her perspective in on any of this, she’s welcome to stop by my office, won’t you?”
Scotty scoffed, “She’s a fine bird and all, Doc, but whatever perspective she may or may not have, it doesn’t truly matter, does it, now?”
McCoy and Jim traded glances. “Well, of course it matters,” Jim said, slow to respond as he sat at the table, “After all, you’ve been partnered for some time now. If you…had decided to raise it, instead of allowing McCoy to adopt it, wouldn’t she be…I assume, raising it with you?”
“That doesn’t matter,” Scotty repeated firmly, “Because I do want Doctor McCoy to adopt it.”
Clearing his throat, McCoy cut in, “How about we eat? And…I’d appreciate it if we stopped calling the baby ‘it.’”
“Of course, Bones. I’m sure Spock won’t mind if we start without him.”
“Spock? Why the devil is Spock coming?!” Scotty exclaimed.
Again, Jim’s eyes darted over to McCoy before he answered. “He’s my best friend. Scotty, you understand, even though I would have preferred you have an abortion, this…is still not a…simple matter for me. One friend of mine is carrying my biological child, another is preparing to adopt and raise it...Apologies, Bones, them. When Spock offered to…be a shoulder for me, I accepted. Ah!” The doors slid open and Spock stepped through, “Speak of the devil, and he will come.”
Sliding into place between Kirk and McCoy, he said, “I apologize for my tardiness. I happened across a rather distraught crewmember and decided to escort them to Sickbay.”
McCoy furrowed his brows, “Spock, if you’d’ve commed-”
“Then you would have left dinner for no valid reason. Doctor M’Benga is perfectly capable of handling such cases. If you are, indeed, needed, then they will comm,” Spock reminded him. “Mister Scott, how are you managing?”
He blinked hard, startled slightly at the genuinely caring tone the question carried. “As well as can be expected, I’d suppose. I, ah, admit this whole pregnancy business isn’t all it’s cracked out to be. The sooner it’s over and the babe is safe in McCoy’s care, the happier I’ll be.”
Spock nodded, “I imagine you are quite ready to return back to your work.”
“Like you wouldn’t believe,” he admitted, “I dunno what to do with myself, standin’ around, tellin’ people how to do their job. I’ve trained each one personally, they hardly need the micromanagement.”
“Perhaps we could find something more… stimulating?” Kirk suggested, “Would you…be interested in assisting other Starfleet crews remotely with schematics or assembly? Troubleshooting? Your expertise could be used, far and wide.”
Scotty didn’t need to consider the thought before answering, “If you can arrange that, sir, you’d be my hero. I’m going plain out of my mind with boredom, I’m afraid,” he chuckled, hoping to sound more lighthearted than he felt, “I’m not made for the desk, you know.”
“I’ll see what I can pull off immediately,” Kirk promised.
“And we’ll be certain to have you cleared for duty as soon as we responsibly can, Monty. You’ve got a ways to go, but we’ll...try to help it pass easier,” McCoy added.
“I appreciate it, lads,” Scotty replied. He brought his spoon to his mouth, but quickly dropped it with a grimace as he tried not to gag. He had remembered to tell Kirk no on the onions, but forgot about the smell of garlic tossing his stomach lately. This was going to be the longest pregnancy of all time.
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McCoy’s lips twitched subtly up before snapping back into a professional flat line as he continued the fetal scan, though his blue eyes still twinkled, betraying his every thought.
“I know I told ya I didn’t care ta know,” Scotty said with a small grin of his own, “But since it’s your babe I’m carryin’, how about you just go on with it?” He’d felt much lighter in the six weeks since they’d agreed McCoy would adopt the kid, like a weight had been taken off his chest.
“It’s a girl,” He smiled widely, “A perfectly healthy little girl.”
“Wow,” Scotty breathed. His heart beat a little faster. A girl? “Congratulations, Len. She’s going to be one lucky lass, isn’t she.”
McCoy chuckled, blushed pink. “Spoiled rotten, is what she’s going to be. On this ship? You can bet on it.”
“You, uh, think of any names yet?”
“Well, nothing in particular,” McCoy moved the scanner and raised the bed to a standing position, “But now that we know she’s a girl, it’ll be easier for me to narrow down some thoughts. Do you have any you like?”
Scotty shook his head. He hadn’t considered it at all. He’d never wanted kids, never fantasized about the idea, and didn’t see the point in starting to dream about it now, especially since he was only carrying this baby. Keeping her still hadn’t crossed his mind, even at twenty weeks, which he was truthfully relieved for; he had been worried that he’d promised him a baby, only to change his mind, and so far, the exact opposite was proving to be true. He was ready to get back to the life he had before; working hard and late, drinking heavily, taking risks. McCoy could handle that tender, caring life. It wasn’t any life he was cut out for.
“Well, if anything does come to mind, you’ll let me know? I know she’ll be my daughter, but…you’ll still be her uncle, you know,” McCoy gave him a friendly smile and pat on the shoulder.
“I suppose I’ve always appreciated the name Shona,” Scotty considered aloud. “Melanie, that’s a pretty girl’s name.”
“Melanie, I like that,” He bounced on his toes, “Melanie McCoy. Has a ring to it, don’t you think?”
“Like a bell, Doc,” He agreed, dropping his hand to his protruding stomach. As much as he hated being pregnant, it was starting to feel, on some level, worth it.
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“How could you POSSIBLY understand what I’m going through?!” Scotty bellowed, not for the first time, “You’re a bloody bird! You...you have it easy! All ye’ve got to do is lay an egg and you’re done!”
Before Onik-Ah had the opportunity to argue back, the doors to Scotty’s quarters slid open and Spock welcomed himself in. “Mister Scott. Lieutenant Onik-Ah. I heard elevated voices and decided an investigation was warranted. What is going on here?”
Scotty scoffed, still red in the face, though more of embarrassment than anger at this point. “Not a thing, sir. A minor dispute.”
“No, Mister Spock,” Onik-Ah firmly disagreed, “Monty seems to believe that his being pregnant is a valid excuse to be plain cruel towards me, and frankly, I’ve had enough. I…I had only been attempting to empathize with his…predicament and offer my support-”
“My predicament!” He bellowed once more, beginning to pace the room, “My predicament! Oh-you, you…You’ve made me understand what people mean when they say ‘bird brain,’ you...!”
“Mister Scott,” Spock interrupted, raising his hand, “Mistreatment of any crewman of this ship will not be tolerated, regardless of whatever personal conflicts you may be having. Your comments are completely unacceptable and out of order.”
When Scotty looked over, tears were slowly falling from Onik-Ah’s eyes, wetting her feathered cheeks. “Christ Almighty,” he muttered, and walked over to his desk, letting himself sink deep into his office chair. “I…I’m sorry. You’re right. I’ve just…” He took a deep, shuddery breath, “Sir, this isn’t easy. Ye’ve got to understand. I…I’m twenty-five, near twenty-six weeks pregnant, and…so uncomfortable! My…everything, hurts. I’ve got hemorrhoids. This…this, baby, she kicks, all the time. I cannae sleep. I’ve been getting migraines. These...these…idiots I’m consulting with wouldn’t know the difference between a Dilithium crystal and Danburite if it hit them upside tha head!” He was sobbing as he rambled now, while Spock stood with his hands clasped behind his back and Onik-Ah continued to stand quietly weeping on the other side of the room. “I could still have fourteen more weeks of this left to go!” He sobbed, loudly and openly.
Spock leaned forward over Scotty’s desk, his hands pressed into the hard surface to support him as he did so. In a low voice, he stated, “Very few crewmen have experienced a pregnancy, and none under the same circumstances as yours, therefore, no persons aboard this ship is able to empathize fully with your difficulties. That does not mean they cannot sympathize with you, or share the weight of your struggles. Do not discourage those who wish to be your support and offer it freely.”
“That’s tha sort of advice I’d expect ta hear from McCoy, Mister Spock, not you,” Scotty sniffed.
Spock stood, straightening out his uniform top. “Unfortunately, there are some...aspects of the good doctor’s personality that are, for a lack of better word, contagious. Speaking of, I will be sending him here shortly, Mister Scott. I believe a full evaluation is in order. Onik-Ah, if you’ll come with me.”
“Yes, sir,” she responded, and followed him out the door. Scotty buried his head in his hands and wept until McCoy arrived.
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“You’re suffering from prenatal depression. And if you don’t mind my speculating, I’d guess you’ve been having a time of it since, what, the start of your second trimester?” McCoy stated, his lips pressed firmly together, the way they did when he truly wanted to tear into someone but couldn’t. Scotty wasn’t thrilled with being on the receiving end of that look.
“Yes,” He sighed defeatedly, “Around then. When it…became visible.”
“I’m not going to lecture you,” he started, his lips still pulled tight, “But for future reference, we’re suppose to talk to our friendly neighborhood doctor about these sorts of ailments before the First Officer storms your quarters.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Scotty replied dryly.
McCoy softened a bit. “Look, let’s up your counseling, come down to Sickbay tomorrow morning, and we’ll start a treatment plan for you. Pregnancy is already miserable enough, you don’t need it to be any more difficult than necessary.”
Scotty agreed, and when he checked his PADD later that night, he had a lengthy message from Onik-Ah informing him that she was done, and would be by later in the week to get her things from his quarters.
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Thankfully, he took to the treatment plan McCoy prescribed well, and slowly was pulled from his snippy mood. Of course, the damage had already been done to his relationship, and he still hated being pregnant. But he was tolerating it much better than before, and that was no small feat, he figured.
He continued to try not to think about it, more than anything, except for when it was necessary. It was getting harder and harder by the day- At 32 weeks, every person he crossed looked at him like he was about to send the baby flying out of him any second. He wanted to be angry or annoyed at the stares, but truthfully, he was so big, he could hardly blame them- he was having a hard time believing that he still had weeks left to wait, as well.
McCoy had begun to taper his hours off more, too, which he couldn’t stand. He already wasn’t working, not by any standard that he considered acceptable. But the good doctor seemed to notice his antsyness, and one of Scotty’s many half-days, appeared at his door with his hands full of cloth.
“Didja get those sergers workin’ yet?” He asked as he stepped into the room, and dropped the bundles of fabric onto Scotty’s bed. “I’ve been collectin’ the shirts that Jim’s torn up and ruined on away missions over the past few months, and I’ve finally got enough that we can make a little baby blanket out of them. What say you?”
Scotty laughed and began to thumb through the fabric; McCoy had already taken them apart by the seams, washed them, and clearly had cut away any spot that would have been bloody. “I think you’re a madman, McCoy. A blanket made from Kirk’s shirts?”
“And by your serger,” He said, “I’m a sentimental man. I want my baby to have a little something from the men responsible for her existing.”
He shook his head, still smiling, “I don’t know if it works yet or not, but I haven’t had a project to try it on. I suppose this would be as good as any.” Scotty chuckled again as he picked up a badly torn gold command shirt, “Len, are you certain? This is…Well, the material quality…”
“It’s not the material,” McCoy reminded him, picking up another tattered garment, “It’s the man that keeps ruining them.”
“If you’re sure, then I’ll give it my best. Don’t expect anythin’ too fancy, now. I’m an engineer, not a seamstress,” Scotty said, scooping the pile and taking it to his work desk. Finally, something hands-on to focus on.
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McCoy had plans for his delivery, but the baby had other thoughts. It was one in the morning when Scotty cried out as he was jerked from his sleep by a sharp contraction. The pain hit in a long wave, sending cramps through his lower back and down his legs. He kicked his blankets off and stumbled to his feet as he broke out into a hot, dizzy sweat, fighting the nausea he felt creeping up.
He made his way out the door, taking deep breaths as the pain eased off. He started to head towards Sickbay when a new thought occurred, and he turned the other direction. Another contraction hit him fifteen minutes later, as he rode up in the Turbolift. Cursing and shouting again, he had only one thought on his mind- He could finally get this baby out of him. He needed to get this baby out of him.
The attendant on duty in the Transporter Room turned swiftly to see who had entered the room. “Mister Scott! What are you doing here in the middle of the-”
“Pardon, Jacobs,” Scotty gritted though clenched teeth as he took over the control panel, “I am...making...some wee adjustments...Once I’m on that pad...I need you to activate the transporter,” he paused to focus on perfecting his input. If he didn’t get it exactly correct, this entire thing could be a terrible mess. “And the minute you’ve done that…Comm Doctor McCoy.”
“But sir-”
“No buts about it, that’s an order,” he declared, not entirely caring this was a fool’s thought. He checked everything over once more. Down to the last decimal- everything looked perfect. He registered the coordinates, and stepped onto the pad. “Now, lad!”
Jacobs did exactly as he was instructed. As he watched Scotty turn to fuzz, he pressed the button to comm Sickbay. “Urgent! Doctor McCoy to the Transporter room!”
“What is it?” McCoy’s voice rang through, thankfully awake on the other end.
“I’m not sure- Mister Scott-” he stuttered over his words as Scotty faded momentarily in and out of clarity.
“I’ll be right there. McCoy out.”
And then there he was…and there she was, too. Scotty sat, dazed and barely conscious on the Transporter floor, and a baby crying loudly next to him. Jacobs went pale in the face, and took two steps back. Not a full minute later, McCoy and his nurses came rushing through the door.
“Christ on a bike, Monty!” McCoy rushed to his side, pulling out his medical tricorder. After a quick scan, he said, “Chapel! We need to take him down and get him prepped for surgery, now! What’s the baby’s status?”
“She’s stable, Doctor,” Nurse Chapel responded, moving to McCoy’s side as another nurse swaddled the baby.
“Great, let’s bring her down, too. What in the world were you thinking?” He hissed as they lifted him onto a stretcher. “You could’ve killed the both of you!”
“Aye, but I didn’t,” Scotty grinned, “What’s the worry, Doc? There’s been no harm.”
“No harm?!” He exclaimed, rolling him down the hall. “What part of, you’re going into surgery, did you miss? You got the baby out, but you’ve still got a uterus and placenta we need to get out of you! We had your cesarean scheduled in just two days, what happened?”
“I couldn’t wait, Doctor. I had a contraction.”
Now they were in the Sickbay, and McCoy and Chapel lifted him onto a BioBed. “You had one contraction?” Chapel repeated.
“Two, by the time I got to the Transporter Room,” Scotty confirmed, “It hurt so terribly bad, sir. She needed to come out, immediately.”
McCoy and Chapel exchanged exasperated glances, and he stuck a hypo in the side of Scotty’s neck. “Never let it be said that women are the weaker sex,” he grumbled as Scotty lost consciousness, “I’ve delivered babies everywhere from hospitals, barns, caves, and war zones, and I thought I’d done and seen it all. But I’ve never seen someone transport a baby out, especially not after a singular contraction.”
Chapel shook her head, “Neither have I. The male body is simply not equipped to handle labor and delivery, I’m afraid. But,” She finished prepping Scotty’s abdomen for surgery, and met McCoy’s eyes as she passed him a surgical tool, “Congratulations, Doctor.”
He couldn’t let himself get too excited, not when he had a surgery to do, but he also couldn’t entirely suppress the glee seeping through him as he thought about his daughter, safe and living, waiting for him, just in the next room. He took a deep breath, grounding himself back in the moment. “Computer, begin recording. Medical Log, Stardate 6233.4, surgery start time, 0157, patient, Montgomery Scott….”
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Scotty blinked away the haze as he woke from the anesthesia, feeling a hundred pounds lighter. His gaze drifted, following the sounds of hushed whispers. As his eyes focused, he could see McCoy reclined back on a BioBed down and across from him, his legs stretched out with his ankles crossed, and in his arms, he cradled a little bundle, a baby swaddled in her special blanket made of yellow command shirts. He was whispering to Kirk and Spock, who had acquired chairs and were sat to the left of him.
Before he could speak up, Doctor M’Benga arrived to his bedside. “Good to see you awake, Mister Scott,” McCoy’s head snapped up immediately, reflexively, as one learns to do when you’re an emergency service professional. But quickly as his concern arrived, it evaporated into a kind smile, and he returned his attention back to the baby. Scotty only gaped for a moment, but M’Benga was quick to catch it. “I understand you have a long-standing professional relationship with McCoy, but he’s been placed on parental leave. You’ll be happy to know your surgery went perfectly, and the baby is doing well, she’s simply under observation overnight.”
“Ah, of course,” he blinked. Of course. “And...I suppose...that’s it, then?”
M’Benga tilted his head in confirmation, “Essentially, yes. We want you here for another hour of observation, and you’ll have the rest of the week off work. But after that, provided your follow up exam looks good, you’ll be clear for full duty again. You’ll also continue your counseling sessions and psych evaluations, until we’re certain you’re adjusted.”
“Aye, Doctor. Whatever you say, I’ll do.” M’Benga took his vitals and instructed him to rest as he left. Scotty sighed happily, leaning back into the pillow. He lay his hand on his belly, admiring the way it was flat once more. McCoy had fixed him right up, and for a brief moment, he thought he ought to send the man a gift for his handiwork, before remembering, he already did give him a gift. A bloody good one, too, for all the trouble it’d been over the past months.
Jim stood and crossed the room, approaching Scotty’s bedside. “I heard you…reinvented the wheel, so to speak, on childbirth,” he greeted, grinning widely. Scotty smiled back, feeling at ease with his friend for the first time since this fiasco. “I won’t report it if you promise never to do it again…You’re quite fortunate Starfleet Medical staff take an oath to do no harm. From what I gather, your unique method…won’t be approved in the textbooks any time soon.”
He chuckled, “Well, I can certainly guarantee I won’t be doin’ this again, thank tha’ Heavens an’ Stars above. Ah, Jim. I’m so glad this is over. I’m ready to get back down inta my engines.”
“Welcome back, Scotty,” Jim said, placing his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Our lady Enterprise doesn’t run the same without you being directly hands-on with her.”
“You say the nicest things, Captain,” Scotty blushed, “Of all the people that could’ve gotten me pregnant that day, I’m glad had to be you.”
Jim turned to look where McCoy was still fawning over his daughter, Spock still sat, leaning in and listening to his ramble intensely. “Yeah, me too. I mean, look at him. That’s…You did a good thing there, Scotty.” He turned back around, “You wanna meet her? She’s…Well, small. Not very talkative yet.”
He shook his head, “I don’t need to interrupt. I’ve spent a good amount of time with her already.”
“Mm, I suppose you have,” Jim agreed with a huffed laugh, “Hard to tell if she looks like either of us. She’s…undeniably adorable, all babies are, but, Bones says those more...distinguishing features can take time to come in.”
“By all luck, she won’t have either of our ugly mugs,” Scotty smiled, “Poor girl, bein’ born by two men. An’ raised by another. She’s lucky she’ll have that older sis of hers.”
“Oh, absolutely. I’m sure she’ll have the divine grace of Miss Uhura to influence her, as well,” Jim added. “Though, if that science officer of ours continues to linger like that, we’ll all be in trouble.” He pointed to the pair, where McCoy was now placing the girl into Spock’s arms.
“That’d be a problem. It’s bad enough hearing how illogical we are from him, I don’t need to hear it from a little girl.”
“Worse, if McCoy and Spock don’t quit their bickering, she’ll be able to argue the roof off the Enterprise,” Jim pointed out.
“That could be favorable, Captain. We have another five year mission ahead of us, we could put her in charge of all the diplomatic missions. They’re able to speak by the time they’re three, aren’t they?” Scotty joked.
“Gentlemen,” Spock turned around, one brow quirked, and baby still cradled in his arms, “Sickbay is not large enough to prevent me from hearing you. As Melanie’s father is certainly the most irrational, most illogical man I’ve met thus far, it is highly unlikely my influence will have any bearing. Therefore, if she does decide your actions are illogical enough to comment upon, it is because you, without a doubt, are being illogical.”
McCoy rolled his eyes, “Give her back, you. You’re all kidding yourselves if you think she won’t be extremely influenced by everyone here. Think about it- there’s no other children for her to run and play with. She only has all of us, at least for these first few years. I oughta take her, go back to Earth…” He paused, looking fondly down at her and brushing his fingertips across her forehead, “But this is home. She’s going to be okay. I think...she’ll turn out quite fascinating. Don’t you think so?”
In an effort to prove his point, the very small bundle let out an impressive bellowing scream.
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“Onik-Ah!” Scotty called as he jogged down the hall to catch up with her. She turned slightly, barely slowing down. She still had very little interest in his presence- understandably so.
“What do you need, Mister Scott?”
“Just a moment of your time,” he panted, falling into step with her.
“I’m busy. I’m on my way to-”
“I know you need to get to your posting. I won’t stop ya, may I walk you there?”
She made an annoyed chirp, clicked her beak twice, and then agreed with a nod. “Fine, but keep up.” They moved at a quick pace through the halls, and Scotty began to speak.
“I am truly sorry for the way I treated you through my pregnancy. It wasn’t right, and you were right for leaving me. I should’ve talked to Doctor McCoy right when I knew the counseling wasn’t enough, and I didn’t. You did everything right, and I appreciate how much you tried to help me.”
Onik-Ah didn’t respond immediately, conflict clearly circulating through her eyes as she chewed on the words. As they rounded a corner, she said, “I appreciate your apolgy, and I forgive you. But allow me to be clear- we are nothing more than coworkers. Perhaps one day, friends, but I don’t believe we will ever be more than that again.”
“I didn’t come to try to win you back,” Scotty stopped walking, making her stop and turn, “You do, you deserve better than what I gave. Even before the pregnancy, Onik-Ah. I’ve realized these months, the only commitment I’m suited for, is this ship. But I’ve wronged you, and I’d like to make it right, if you’ll allow me.”
She did give a small smile then, saying, “Thank you, Mister Scott. I’m glad you’re back to your old self,” before turning on her heel and continuing on her way.
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As he lay in a Jefferies Tube, making hands-on adjustments for the first time since he’d gotten pregnant, Scotty couldn’t help but sigh and smile to himself, feeling entirely complete, content, and fulfilled. This was everything he needed, everything he wanted- his tools and his lady Enterprise, and not a thing more. He had woken up that morning and had a cup of coffee, and he knew a nip of Scotch was waiting for him in his quarters when he was finished with the day. Yes, sir, everything was just perfectly aligned in Scotty’s world once more.
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