posted by
the_dala at 05:25pm on 16/08/2009 under star trek xi fic
The kink meme caught me in a sappy mood, and this is the result. It's not The Effing Mpreg, though. Which means there will be more mpreg. You guys, just think of all the fics I've written with no mpreg whatsoever! I only committed it once for PotC (sorry, Will). The how is not important, btw. ALIENS DID IT.
Have I ever mentioned that the only thing my mother collects is the series of "I Love Lucy" Barbies? She has all of them released so far, I think, which is at least ten. Including the set of Lucy and Ricky from this ep, from the scene at the end. They don't look a damn thing like Lucy or Desi, but they are awesome nonetheless
Title: Kirk is Enceinte
Written for this prompt at
st_xi_kink: 'Five times Jim tried to tell Bones he was pregnant (and Bones didn't get it), and one time Bones was hit with a clue-stroller.'
Author: Dala
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: R
Warning: mpreg, slight crack
Disclaimer: standard applies; title pays homage to "I Love Lucy"
Kirk is Enceinte
1. Sick Bay
Nothing goes down in Leonard McCoy's sick bay without eventually making its way to his ears. Which is why Jim makes sure to stop in for an exam on the good doctor's lunch break, commandeers one of the private patient suites, and swears Chapel to secrecy on pain of revealing her crush on Janice Rand to the entire bridge crew next Poker Night.
Still, he means to tell Bones right away. He ducks out of the room as soon as he hears a familiar voice - but that voice is barking orders and there are at least a dozen crew members trailing Bones into sick bay, gray-faced and groaning over a reaction to the pasta sauce. Chapel squeezes his hand and suggest that now might not be the best time before stepping into the melee with hypospray at the ready.
Jim sighs, straightens his shirt, and heads off to lecture Sulu about experimenting with alien vegetation in the botany lab.
2. Sexy Times
There's a high probability that telling Bones he's going to be a father will earn Jim some of the best sex of his life. It was the impetus behind his decision to let the news slip while they're curled up in bed. The plan, he thought, was foolproof.
Except it belatedly occurs to him that Bones, being Bones, is just as likely to drag him down to sick bay for ten different kinds of tests beyond the basic scan Chapel ran yesterday.
And that would be a real shame, since Bones is currently sliding his fist along the hard length of Jim's cock and rubbing against his thigh and growling about how many times he's planning to fuck Jim tonight.
Jim is really looking forward to joyful, celebratory we're-having-a-baby sex; but they've got nine months for that, and he's just not quite sure he's had enough hot, focused, determined let's-make-a-baby sex yet.
3. Shrunk in the Wash
"What the hell is this?"
Bones holds up a tiny red shirt and matching black pants. Jim rolls his eyes. He'd specifically asked for two child-sized uniforms, one in gold and one in blue. The yeoman on laundry duty this month kind of has a crush on him, though, and obviously didn't hear him right. He wasn't about to tell her what they were for, after all - not everyone can keep a secret like Christine Chapel. Or Sulu, with whom Jim had been sparring when he got a little dizzy last week and who wouldn't let it go until he got the truth. Or Uhura, who caught him poring over a catalog of nursery furniture he'd downloaded to his padd (she bookmarked an antique giraffe mobile and he's pretty sure she's secretly planning a shower).
Okay, so his crew can keep their mouths shut, but on the other hand they are goddamned nosy.
Flicking the set of clothing into the chute, Bones shakes his head and grumbles, "I've had just about enough of these mix-ups. It's one thing to find Spock's trousers in my drawer, but Keenser's not even humanoid!"
Jim lets out a nervous laugh. "Uh, yeah, I'll speak to them about that."
He dives for the other carefully folded bundle on the dresser. The little regulation dresses are at least the right colors, but the moment's been ruined and his third-best engineer doesn't deserve Bones making assumptions.
4. Sexy Times, take 2
It's been three weeks now. Jim has no idea why he keeps chickening out, but he knows the longer he waits, the more annoyed Bones is going to be (a scale he's begun to measure by the dirty looks Chapel shoots him whenever he goes down for a clandestine dose of prenatal vitamins). He's tried subtle hints and it got him nowhere. Last night he set up a nice romantic dinner with candles and good wine, but it was interrupted by a fire in engineering and Bones spent two hours healing burns instead of admiring his glowing partner over the meatloaf.
Despite this ticking clock, Jim doesn't decide to tell him while they're having sex. It just sort of happens.
"Bonesfuckbabyohgodinsideme - I'm - fuck!"
He babbles it out mid-orgasm. There's a pillow in the way and the words are further lost in Bones' husky groan as he comes, so it's really no wonder that Bones asks Jim what he said after they've both regained control over their breathing.
"Same stupid shit I always say," Jim mutters, covering his face with one hand.
Something in his tone makes Bones reach for him, and his touch is very gentle. For a moment Jim thinks maybe he heard and understood after all.
"You know they said it might not happen right away, Jim. Hell, couples who're born with all the necessary equipment sometimes spend months trying." He presses warm dry lips to Jim's temple. "Don't start fretting just yet. We can head back to the clinic in a couple of weeks and get checked out again, maybe see if it would take better with me."
Jim has a sudden vision of the both of them waddling around Enterprise with an overload of hormones and weird cravings, Spock following silently but with a heavily implied long-suffering sigh. He will definitely tell Bones before it gets to that point.
Just...not tonight. He feels like enough of an asshole already.
5. Static
The risk assessment team had assigned a very low rating to this mission. Low enough that no one thought it odd when their thrill-seeking captain opted out (though Uhura gave him an arch, knowing look); low enough that Spock returned to the ship after the formal meet-and-greet. The band of sentient beings requested a healer for a sick child, so McCoy leads the small survey party down to meet the security team on the planet's surface.
Half an hour later, Jim's communicator comes alive with the sound of distant thunder and Bones' strained voice.
"McCoy to Enterprise, requesting immediate assistance."
Jim's heart thuds in his chest. "Kirk here. What's going on?"
"Our new friends conveniently forgot to tell us about the other tribe vying for possession of this valley. Seems they feel threatened by our presence." To Jim's relief he doesn't sound frightened or hurt, just royally pissed off. "We're under attack from some kind of primitive explosive. Rodriguez is dead."
He can't spare a thought for the young social science officer at the moment. "Hang in there, we'll get you out." Tapping the shipwide comm controls, he snaps, "Scotty, beam our people up now!"
Of course there's transporter interference from soil deposits in the cave where they've taken shelter. Jim wouldn't expect anything less of a harmless-looking rock in the middle of uncharted space. He and Spock are conferring about the formation of a rescue team when guttural shouting breaks the tense quiet of the bridge.
Jim grabs the communicator. "Bones?"
He can hear indistinct cursing and more harsh alien vocalizations which Uhura is trying frantically to translate.
Sitting down hard in his chair, Jim grips the useless instrument tight and says, clear and steady, "Bones, I'm pregnant."
His only answer is a crackle of static.
Jim leans over and retches.
1. Sick Bay, take 2
"Well, this is a change of pace, huh?"
Bones doesn't respond. This is not unexpected, considering he's been out for nearly fourteen hours.
Jim refuses to call it a coma. He's been here before, after the doctors have done all they can and must wait to assess the damage. He's just usually the one lying still and pale on the biobed.
For about the thirtieth time he feels a ripple of resentment toward Spock, M'Benga, and everyone else who forbade him from going down with the rescue team. Jim wasn't there for the scant minute Bones was awake and alert before they had to move him into the open, causing him to go into a seizure. Bones still doesn't know and Jim hates himself a little more with each passing hour.
They wouldn't let him stay the entire time, of course. There was the surgery, the combined forces of Chapel's glare and Chekov's puppy dog eyes making him eat a bland but nutritious meal (most of which came right back up, as morning sickness had chosen precisely the wrong time to kick in), and finally the third attempt at a nap which he has now abandoned. He's going to sit with Bones until he wakes up and hell if there's anything anybody can do about it, no matter how many times they tiptoe past to give him sympathetic half-smiles like he's some grieving widow and not the captain of this fucking ship.
Jim rubs his thumb over Bones' knuckles and takes deep, even breaths until the latest wave of nausea passes.
"You have to wake up, Bones." His voice is still hoarse from earlier protests against mutiny. "You have to, because I can't do this on my own. I need you here." His grip tightens and he leans over to murmur in his ear. "The baby and me, we need you so much."
Early pregnancy fatigue wins out in the end. He wakes some time later with his face buried in Bones' neck, draped awkwardly over the bed with a blanket around his shoulders. Blinking sleep out of his eyes, it takes him a second to realize there's an arm encircling his waist to keep him from falling off the edge. Bones is awake and staring down at him.
One hand presses against his belly, tentative and with a faint tremor, long fingers splayed.
Jim covers it with his own. He grins at the raw emotion on Bones' face, kisses his slack mouth, and goes back to sleep curled around the secret they now share.
(Secret except for Spock, Uhura, Sulu, Chapel, Chekov, Scotty, M'Benga, Rand, and that twitchy intern with the purple hair, anyway.)
Have I ever mentioned that the only thing my mother collects is the series of "I Love Lucy" Barbies? She has all of them released so far, I think, which is at least ten. Including the set of Lucy and Ricky from this ep, from the scene at the end. They don't look a damn thing like Lucy or Desi, but they are awesome nonetheless
Title: Kirk is Enceinte
Written for this prompt at
Author: Dala
Pairing: Kirk/McCoy
Rating: R
Warning: mpreg, slight crack
Disclaimer: standard applies; title pays homage to "I Love Lucy"
Kirk is Enceinte
1. Sick Bay
Nothing goes down in Leonard McCoy's sick bay without eventually making its way to his ears. Which is why Jim makes sure to stop in for an exam on the good doctor's lunch break, commandeers one of the private patient suites, and swears Chapel to secrecy on pain of revealing her crush on Janice Rand to the entire bridge crew next Poker Night.
Still, he means to tell Bones right away. He ducks out of the room as soon as he hears a familiar voice - but that voice is barking orders and there are at least a dozen crew members trailing Bones into sick bay, gray-faced and groaning over a reaction to the pasta sauce. Chapel squeezes his hand and suggest that now might not be the best time before stepping into the melee with hypospray at the ready.
Jim sighs, straightens his shirt, and heads off to lecture Sulu about experimenting with alien vegetation in the botany lab.
2. Sexy Times
There's a high probability that telling Bones he's going to be a father will earn Jim some of the best sex of his life. It was the impetus behind his decision to let the news slip while they're curled up in bed. The plan, he thought, was foolproof.
Except it belatedly occurs to him that Bones, being Bones, is just as likely to drag him down to sick bay for ten different kinds of tests beyond the basic scan Chapel ran yesterday.
And that would be a real shame, since Bones is currently sliding his fist along the hard length of Jim's cock and rubbing against his thigh and growling about how many times he's planning to fuck Jim tonight.
Jim is really looking forward to joyful, celebratory we're-having-a-baby sex; but they've got nine months for that, and he's just not quite sure he's had enough hot, focused, determined let's-make-a-baby sex yet.
3. Shrunk in the Wash
"What the hell is this?"
Bones holds up a tiny red shirt and matching black pants. Jim rolls his eyes. He'd specifically asked for two child-sized uniforms, one in gold and one in blue. The yeoman on laundry duty this month kind of has a crush on him, though, and obviously didn't hear him right. He wasn't about to tell her what they were for, after all - not everyone can keep a secret like Christine Chapel. Or Sulu, with whom Jim had been sparring when he got a little dizzy last week and who wouldn't let it go until he got the truth. Or Uhura, who caught him poring over a catalog of nursery furniture he'd downloaded to his padd (she bookmarked an antique giraffe mobile and he's pretty sure she's secretly planning a shower).
Okay, so his crew can keep their mouths shut, but on the other hand they are goddamned nosy.
Flicking the set of clothing into the chute, Bones shakes his head and grumbles, "I've had just about enough of these mix-ups. It's one thing to find Spock's trousers in my drawer, but Keenser's not even humanoid!"
Jim lets out a nervous laugh. "Uh, yeah, I'll speak to them about that."
He dives for the other carefully folded bundle on the dresser. The little regulation dresses are at least the right colors, but the moment's been ruined and his third-best engineer doesn't deserve Bones making assumptions.
4. Sexy Times, take 2
It's been three weeks now. Jim has no idea why he keeps chickening out, but he knows the longer he waits, the more annoyed Bones is going to be (a scale he's begun to measure by the dirty looks Chapel shoots him whenever he goes down for a clandestine dose of prenatal vitamins). He's tried subtle hints and it got him nowhere. Last night he set up a nice romantic dinner with candles and good wine, but it was interrupted by a fire in engineering and Bones spent two hours healing burns instead of admiring his glowing partner over the meatloaf.
Despite this ticking clock, Jim doesn't decide to tell him while they're having sex. It just sort of happens.
"Bonesfuckbabyohgodinsideme - I'm - fuck!"
He babbles it out mid-orgasm. There's a pillow in the way and the words are further lost in Bones' husky groan as he comes, so it's really no wonder that Bones asks Jim what he said after they've both regained control over their breathing.
"Same stupid shit I always say," Jim mutters, covering his face with one hand.
Something in his tone makes Bones reach for him, and his touch is very gentle. For a moment Jim thinks maybe he heard and understood after all.
"You know they said it might not happen right away, Jim. Hell, couples who're born with all the necessary equipment sometimes spend months trying." He presses warm dry lips to Jim's temple. "Don't start fretting just yet. We can head back to the clinic in a couple of weeks and get checked out again, maybe see if it would take better with me."
Jim has a sudden vision of the both of them waddling around Enterprise with an overload of hormones and weird cravings, Spock following silently but with a heavily implied long-suffering sigh. He will definitely tell Bones before it gets to that point.
Just...not tonight. He feels like enough of an asshole already.
5. Static
The risk assessment team had assigned a very low rating to this mission. Low enough that no one thought it odd when their thrill-seeking captain opted out (though Uhura gave him an arch, knowing look); low enough that Spock returned to the ship after the formal meet-and-greet. The band of sentient beings requested a healer for a sick child, so McCoy leads the small survey party down to meet the security team on the planet's surface.
Half an hour later, Jim's communicator comes alive with the sound of distant thunder and Bones' strained voice.
"McCoy to Enterprise, requesting immediate assistance."
Jim's heart thuds in his chest. "Kirk here. What's going on?"
"Our new friends conveniently forgot to tell us about the other tribe vying for possession of this valley. Seems they feel threatened by our presence." To Jim's relief he doesn't sound frightened or hurt, just royally pissed off. "We're under attack from some kind of primitive explosive. Rodriguez is dead."
He can't spare a thought for the young social science officer at the moment. "Hang in there, we'll get you out." Tapping the shipwide comm controls, he snaps, "Scotty, beam our people up now!"
Of course there's transporter interference from soil deposits in the cave where they've taken shelter. Jim wouldn't expect anything less of a harmless-looking rock in the middle of uncharted space. He and Spock are conferring about the formation of a rescue team when guttural shouting breaks the tense quiet of the bridge.
Jim grabs the communicator. "Bones?"
He can hear indistinct cursing and more harsh alien vocalizations which Uhura is trying frantically to translate.
Sitting down hard in his chair, Jim grips the useless instrument tight and says, clear and steady, "Bones, I'm pregnant."
His only answer is a crackle of static.
Jim leans over and retches.
1. Sick Bay, take 2
"Well, this is a change of pace, huh?"
Bones doesn't respond. This is not unexpected, considering he's been out for nearly fourteen hours.
Jim refuses to call it a coma. He's been here before, after the doctors have done all they can and must wait to assess the damage. He's just usually the one lying still and pale on the biobed.
For about the thirtieth time he feels a ripple of resentment toward Spock, M'Benga, and everyone else who forbade him from going down with the rescue team. Jim wasn't there for the scant minute Bones was awake and alert before they had to move him into the open, causing him to go into a seizure. Bones still doesn't know and Jim hates himself a little more with each passing hour.
They wouldn't let him stay the entire time, of course. There was the surgery, the combined forces of Chapel's glare and Chekov's puppy dog eyes making him eat a bland but nutritious meal (most of which came right back up, as morning sickness had chosen precisely the wrong time to kick in), and finally the third attempt at a nap which he has now abandoned. He's going to sit with Bones until he wakes up and hell if there's anything anybody can do about it, no matter how many times they tiptoe past to give him sympathetic half-smiles like he's some grieving widow and not the captain of this fucking ship.
Jim rubs his thumb over Bones' knuckles and takes deep, even breaths until the latest wave of nausea passes.
"You have to wake up, Bones." His voice is still hoarse from earlier protests against mutiny. "You have to, because I can't do this on my own. I need you here." His grip tightens and he leans over to murmur in his ear. "The baby and me, we need you so much."
Early pregnancy fatigue wins out in the end. He wakes some time later with his face buried in Bones' neck, draped awkwardly over the bed with a blanket around his shoulders. Blinking sleep out of his eyes, it takes him a second to realize there's an arm encircling his waist to keep him from falling off the edge. Bones is awake and staring down at him.
One hand presses against his belly, tentative and with a faint tremor, long fingers splayed.
Jim covers it with his own. He grins at the raw emotion on Bones' face, kisses his slack mouth, and goes back to sleep curled around the secret they now share.
(Secret except for Spock, Uhura, Sulu, Chapel, Chekov, Scotty, M'Benga, Rand, and that twitchy intern with the purple hair, anyway.)