1. Prologue

**This fic is very typically kind of shaped around the plot. It's been done before for this fandom, but it's not a happy fluffy-bunny story. Especially not at the beginning. Even the children are slightly odd, and not particularly cutesy. I've also made up a lot that isn't canon. In this fic Vulcan's never, or at least very rarely have twins. **

**I've read a few fics where one person (usually Jim Kirk) is scorned and abandoned by the rest of the crew, because of a screw up with his current relationship (usually with Spock). I wanted to play, too. But my story is rather unforgiving.**

**This is standard trashy-novel material. Done for fun. It's not crack, but it gets cracky in places and as I already said it's not very faithful to canon terminology either, so please bear that in mind so you won't be too disappointed. I've also changed a lot of Vulcan physiology for the sake of making the Mpreg work. A few people will appear OOC here, it's all very much a "what if...", but with the extra "...the character also happened to be..." Still, relax and enjoy.**

**Oh, and I couldn't do Chekov's accent. It was just too stressful, sorry guys. He fazes it out a little as this goes on, anyway.**

**Summary: After the end of a second disastrous relationship, Chekov can't help but notice that it's _him_ whom always gets screwed over. Mpreg fic. Chekov/Spock mpreg, Spock/Uhura, Chekov/OC previous mentions of McCoy/Chekov.**

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><p><strong>PROLOGUE:<strong>

Pasha felt sick. It had only been three weeks since he'd arrived back on Earth, and already he'd had an offer to serve aboard another ship. He wasn't sure if he could do it. He had no intention of letting his career diminish, but the thought of sitting behind a different set of controls, being ordered by anyone other than Spock and Kirk, sitting next to anyone other than Hikaru, was right now more than he could stand.

The headaches were the same as ever, and he'd nearly fainted twice since the last time. The nausea was constant, and Pasha supposed that being so depressed recently had lowered his immune system and made him susceptible to a bug going round. Except, infuriatingly, he was not only being sick a lot, but he was often hungry, too.

The doctor was a woman, a Dr. Edwards, and Pasha felt a little embarrassed as he tried to explain what he thought might be the problem.

She smiled at him gently, the first positive gesture he'd had from anyone in about a month, and he tried not to burst into tears. She must have noticed this, "You say you've been fired, recently?" she said, maintaining eye contact.

Pasha nodded, not trusting himself not to sob if he opened his mouth.

"And you weren't ready for it, were you?"

He shook his head, biting his lip hard.

"You seem a little overemotional as well. It's understandable given the circumstances, but how would you say your outward emotions have been? Sad? Hysterical? Or are you usually calm?"

To his horror, a predicted loud, choked sound emitted from his throat as he tried to answer her. He clapped a hand over his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut as tears ran over his cheeks and fingers.

The doctor smiled again, gently, "Now that's alright, you're clearly under stress."

Pasha sniffed and removed his hand, "I-I suppose I haven't really thought about my behaviour, just how I feel. I... I _have_ been a bit hysterical, yes."

"It doesn't sound like a bug, more like nerves, but I'm going to have a proper look at you, anyway," she said, standing, "If you'd just like to sit yourself up on the bed here and remove your shirt?"

Pasha did as he was requested, wondering why he felt so embarrassed. Even when Dr. McCoy had examined him, he'd been unabashed at removing his shirt, and he'd actually had a crush on the man, once. He wondered if he should suck in his stomach and tense his muscles, but then figured that, as his doctor, Edwards really needed to know _exactly_ what was going on with his physique.

Dr. Edwards was facing her desk, and she turned back to him as she pulled on her old-fashioned stethoscope with one hand and programmed a scanner with the other.

"Always preferred using these," she said, tugging on the stethoscope gently, "I don't feel like a real doctor unless I'm wearing one."

Pasha smiled and felt himself relax a bit. He sat up a little straighter.

"Hmm, now these look a little sore." Dr. Edwards gently brushed a thumb against Pasha's right nipple, and then looked up at him. "Or are they usually that colour?"

Pasha craned his neck to look down at his chest properly, "They... they do look a bit pinker." He felt himself blush harshly, remembering the dull throb he'd had in his left pectoral a few days previously.

Gently, she pressed them both with her thumbs, "Sore?" she asked.

"The left is, a little bit. It was aching the other day, actually."

The doctor frowned slightly, "Hmm, well let's get down to business." She placed the stethoscope over his heart and instructed him to breathe deeply at random intervals. "Heart rate's quite fast."

She retrieved the scanner from the table next to the bed, "Lie down, please Mr. Chekov."

Pasha rested his head on the scratchy material of the pillow and allowed the doctor to push his limbs to wherever she needed them. As the scanner was waved up and down above the surface of his body, he found himself thinking back to about five months ago.

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><p><strong>Reviews are love, hope people enjoy this!<strong>


	2. Five Months Ago

**FIVE MONTHS EARLIER:**

The situation had been way over Pasha's head. It had not been the first time he'd been trapped in an alien prison, whilst the powers that be, being the Enterprise and alien planet in question, bargained over his and someone else's life. It _had_ been, however, the first time he had been imprisoned, alone, with Commander Spock. The last time he was in a cell with Spock, they had been accompanied by Sulu and Captain Kirk, which had helped ensure morale more than anything else. But in this instance, it had just been Chekov and the Vulcan, plotting together, using mathematical genius to break their way free as soon as possible.

Or at least, they should have been, as Pavel had always thought they would if they were to ever wind up in a situation such as they did.

Although Pasha would readily admit that he knew very little about Vulcan's, he had always been pretty certain, that a Vulcan openly and obviously showing anger was a very bad sign. Or at least, unusual.

He had been sure that what was bothering the Vulcan so much, was what he'd thought to be the biggest problem at the time, which was that it was unlikely that the captain knew of their whereabouts.

The Vulcan had been... for lack of a better word, _scowling_. He'd growled every time footsteps were heard up ahead, and when he wasn't plastered to the door keeping a look out, he was prowling around Pasha, distractingly.

"Commander, it's okay. The Captain will try to contact one of us soon enough and then he'll know something's wrong," Pasha recalled saying, trying to calm the hybrid down.

"It's early," replied Spock, sounding mildly surprised.

Pasha had been confused, thinking that Spock meant "early" as in the morning. Then he'd nearly slapped himself and realised, or thought he'd realised, that Spock meant it was still early for someone to notice they'd gone missing. Although, actually, it hadn't been early, it had been two days.

What happened next was, well, unprecedented to say the least.

Spock had swooped down on him, grabbing around his chest and lifting him with a terrifying ease towards the pile of material in the corner.

"Commander! What's-"

"It's early," Spock repeated, almost fearfully now, "and I can't fight it. I'm sorry, Ensign."

Spock had dropped Pasha onto the makeshift bed and then lain on top of him.

Pasha remembered how taken aback he'd been by Spock's weight and strength. It had been scary.

Fortunately for Pasha, Spock had had enough control to get the two of them through Pon Farr as smoothly as possible. He'd spent ages smothering Pasha with kisses and nuzzles, reassuring him with a few choice sentences in Russian.

The bonding process had been rather alarming, but their minds seemed to join together well, initially. Their bodies, however, experienced a little more difficulty.

Spock had spent a while getting Pasha prepared and aroused, but it was still a shock nonetheless. Pasha was a lot smaller than Spock and the Vulcan's strength had taken its toll on his body. It had been alright, as Spock had, after the meld, known exactly what was on his mate's mind, and had devoted as much time as he could to making things pleasurable. But still, it had been overwhelming and not a little painful.

When the fever was over, it was Spock's turn to be overwhelmed by the alien sensations. Pasha's emotions flitted about constantly, and the Vulcan's attempts to become stoic and emotionless once more had failed as his nature told him his mate was sick. It hadn't just been the mind, but also the size and weight of the human had made Spock incredibly overprotective.

After a while, Pasha managed to calm down, and he'd spent some time curiously examining Spock's presence in his mind.

They'd helped each other to dress, Pasha pretty much collapsing once he was done.

When they'd been released and beamed back to the ship, Doctor McCoy had grabbed both of them and taken them to sickbay.

"Your father made an emergency call, requesting to speak to you," said McCoy to Spock, as he'd examined Pasha first. "He knows where you were, and he's on his way. Spoke to me about things first, though. Apparently this has been occurring all over the New Vulcan colonies."

Spock, by this point, was back to his practical self. But there was also something clipped and cold about his voice, "Of course the destruction of Vulcan would increase the need to survive."

McCoy nodded, "It took a while for me to get what was happening out of your father-"

"We do not speak of it," Spock had cut across him, smoothly.

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><p>Spock never told Pasha where his relationship with Lt. Uhura had been before their bond. Things had been very quiet with regards to the whole affair, even after the two had shown affection during the Narada incident. Spock's mental shields blocked his own thoughts from Pasha's, as well as the other way around, so Pavel hadn't even been aware of either of them talking to each other.<p>

He'd gently tried to initiate casual conversation with Uhura, as he would have done before the awkward circumstances came about, but she would often just nod, avoiding his eye, before moving away elsewhere.

Spock would occasionally share conversation with him, but not about Uhura, and _not_ about Pon Farr. For Pasha, he would have happily respected whatever the Vulcan wished, if it hadn't been for the lack of conversation, and that he felt as though he'd disappointed him somehow. He felt unable to joke about the whole thing, and was afraid to simply suggest they get some sort of divorce from this 'bond' without insulting Spock.

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><p>"He is very young and small," was the first thing Sarek said, when he saw Pasha.<p>

"Mr. Chekov is amongst the most advanced members of the crew."

Pasha _would_ have felt pleased that Spock was, in a way, defending him from his father, but he had not been able to miss the detached way Spock spoke about him, as though he wasn't right there in front of them.

Within five minutes of the conversation, Pasha sadly realised that Spock was actually just defending himself;

"Obviously I would have waited for a Vulcan female, given the choice, which I was not."

"How is he coping with the bond?"

"Well enough, but emotionally he is not fully adept."

Pasha felt a stab of annoyance. He'd been dealing with the bond itself, fine. Dealing with the _situation_ was not the same thing, but he kept quiet. He took a leaf out of the Vulcan book and kept his face completely neutral.

Sarek had then decided to ignore Pasha completely, and Spock and he began to walk away together. "This is a most unfortunate turnout for everyone involved. He is not an ideal mate for you at all. He will not be able to help with the survival of the Vulcan species."

Spock's ears had gone slightly green at the tips, and though he was quiet, Pasha had heard him anyway; "That is largely irrelevant, as neither he or myself anticipated such a bond. You are correct, however, about his suitability. I would never have willingly chosen him for a mate, and I will not present him anywhere on New Vulcan. I am already considering breaking the bond."

Pasha had suddenly been very pleased that Spock had his mental shields up, because it had hurt more than he'd like to admit to realise that, not only was Spock now making plans for him behind his back, but he was actually _ashamed_ of him.

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><p><strong>Yeah, so everything's very stoic about the way Spock and Chekov got together - much like the Vulcan, as it happens. There's quite a lot of angsty backstory that will be covered and more info as this fic goes along. Please R&amp;R!<strong>


	3. Five Months Continued

Over the next four months, Spock had often visited Pasha's quarters for sex, which had been perhaps the best thing about the whole sorry affair. At first, where Pasha had been grateful for Spock's mental shields, it hurt to think that Spock was trying to connect with him as little as possible, even when he was having _a lot_ of sex with him. The sex had become a lot easier, to Pasha's relief, and he, on many occasions, tried to engage Spock in conversation afterwards. Usually, Spock left as quickly as possible, but sometimes he would stay, even glancing at Pasha with warmth in his dark eyes.

Pasha's immediate understanding of the situation, had been that the 'bond' he shared with Spock was not something that was easily broken, or something that was considered to be rather shameful to break. He'd discovered later, that he was currently the only human male to share this bond with a Vulcan, and only around three human women were bonded, one of them being Spock's mother.

Pasha had been unable to deny his attraction to his Commander, but he certainly hadn't ever imagined anything happening between them, much less, them 'marrying'. He'd decided to allow Spock a little space; after all, the nature of the Pon Farr, from what Pasha had seen, was very violent. It had been no more Spock's fault than his, and as an alien, the man wouldn't necessarily want to discuss things with Pasha as a human might. He suspected that the mysterious bond _would _be broken one day, and Pasha knew it was probably for the best. He couldn't ignore the attachment he felt to Spock, or the excitement he felt when the Vulcan and he were in bed together, but he was very sure that it wasn't love. He'd been perfectly willing to allow feelings to develop if his bondmate wanted them to stay together, but he'd reasoned that as Spock hadn't talked about it with him properly, it was not wise to dwell on it.

It was just when things were calming down, that everything fell spectacularly to pieces.

Another Vulcan, a diplomat of some kind, came aboard the Enterprise for two weeks. His presence had been unwelcome, particularly by Spock, who clearly knew the other alien but with whom he was _not_ on friendly terms with. He'd come aboard the ship to be transported securely to and from New Vulcan and Earth periodically before the Enterprise was needed back on route again.

Pasha had hardly seen the new visitor during his brief stay, although the tall male Vulcan had clearly unsavoury things to say about him, as Spock became more and more agitated if he was around his mate. Upon being introduced to Pasha, he'd said something in Vulcan that had caused Lt. Uhura to stiffen and Spock's anger to flare up so powerfully it reached his mate through the bond. Spock began to get more aggressive during sex, less talkative, more irritable and expressly ordered Pasha not to approach the other Vulcan under any circumstances.

Then, the Vulcan had left. And that should have been the end of it.

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><p>Pasha had bruises on his arms for weeks afterwards. From where Spock had grasped him and hissed in his ear; "What have you done to it?"<p>

"W-what?"

"The bond! What have you done, you little deceiver?"

Pasha let out a little cry and dug his nails into Spock's hands, trying to get the Vulcan to loosen his grip, "What are you talking about? I haven't done anything!"

"Do not lie to me. Our bond is contaminated with the presence of another..." Spock had paused, and then snarled: "How many times did he have you, before his presence manifested itself in your mind?"

"What? Who? I haven't..."

Spock shook him then, clearly restraining himself from doing any more damage, "The Vulcan, the one you betrayed me with!"

"S-Spock! I have not done anything! I haven't!" Pasha had cried.

"I should have known you would seek other company. You were never going to be an acceptable mate for any Vulcan. And now we will end this."

'Painful', was a word too physical to describe the feeling of a bond being broken. Spock had refused to look into Pasha properly and disconnect the bond gently, because he did not want to see any marks that would have shown the presence of another in his former-mate's mind.

It didn't hurt, but Pasha had not been ready for what came next. The empty, dreadful, lonely feeling. Pasha had collapsed to the floor, crying. And no one picked him up again.

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><p>Pasha had been sick after the first person said; "I think you should leave." That person was Uhura.<p>

Fortunately when she'd said this, there had been a bathroom within running distance of him. At the time, it could easily have been attributed to the fact that he himself had been thinking about leaving for so long, but to hear that not just Spock wanted it, was unbearable.

The tension between the groups had been dreadful. Kirk just looked at Pasha with intense disappointment all the time, Uhura had snapped at him constantly, and Spock had seemed to pretend that Pasha didn't exist. Scotty didn't understand the extent of the damage, and had just clapped his hand on Pasha's back, telling him he would get over it. Sulu hadn't said anything, except; "I told you it wouldn't work."

Pasha would spend his shifts trying desperately to show how professional he was. He had not been able to try and discuss his private life there, as he would have been instantly reprimanded. He could feel the stares from people all the time, and constantly straightened himself up, sucking in his stomach that was definitely getting paunchy. He'd always had a flat stomach, and so had noticed the change rather quickly.

Uhura addressed his weight two weeks before he was sent away, "Just look at the state of you," she'd gestured to his stomach, which, being fair was actually the only part of him to have expanded somewhat. "You need to go home and sort yourself out. Do you know what that is? That's from guilt-eating and stress, Ensign." She'd stopped using his name weeks previously.

Kirk had taken him aside to fire him. Well, he had obviously liked to think that he was gently 'encouraging' Pasha to leave. "I really think it's for the best," he'd sighed. "It's not that you're a bad worker, but now your performance on the bridge has started to get worse. You're stressed, shaking and what with the current state of your relationships on board, I think this would be best for you. You're clearly unhappy."

"I am unhappy because I was accused of something I didn't do, Captain," Pasha had said, weakly. He tried to get the next reason for his misery out, "An- and Spock - "

"Now Chekov, I'm sure you didn't mean any harm. But what's done is done. I won't force you to go, but I think it's the right thing for you. You're still young, and when – _if_ you join another ship, I know it won't be long before you're promoted."

By this time, Pasha thought that he'd probably have left whether Kirk had spoken to him or not. The tensions on board were getting worse, and without the protection of his friends, some of the other members of the crew had started targeting him for ridicule, just like they had done back at the Academy.

The security team would mock his accent and ignore his questions and orders. One of them had even taken to pinching him on the backside and wolf whistling at him, asking when he was going to be eighteen, the big joke being that, Pasha was already of age.

Of his friends – or perhaps former friends – who weren't outright angry with him, they had started to treat Pasha with a constant air of resignation and irritation.

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><p>A smaller ship came along a week later, which then took him back to Earth. On the journey, he gazed numbly out of a small window into space, his PADD in his hand, blank screened and silent, for there were no messages for him.<p>

Back on Earth he finally got a message... from New Vulcan. A wizened member of the Council whom Pasha vaguely recognised informed him that because of the shameful nature of his broken bond, he, nor any of his family members would ever be welcome to New Vulcan. Pasha initially wondered how a _Vulcan_ in his position would be treated, and then he found out why it was so bad for him. It turned out that Spock had gotten a lawyer to order Pasha to be kept away from him at all times. And the best option for that would be to keep him off the Enterprise and New Vulcan.

So, his remaining family had no interest in seeing him. He was banished from New Vulcan. He was banished from the Enterprise, with no friends to speak of. And his ex-'husband' had apparently just issued the Vulcan equivalent of a restraining order against him.

He really _was_ on his own.

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><p><strong>You do find out what was going on with the bond. I will confess to only having seen the 2009 movie, so I've made up a lot. Hope that's okay. <strong>

**You can see that the timeline in this fic is slightly fragmented, and the incidents don't answer all that many questions yet, but as the story goes on, Chekov will remember individual things that will have more information within them.**

**Someone asked me if they were going to hate Spock in this... you might, I'm afraid! And not just him. Also, Chekov won't be particularly angelic himself.**

**Please R&R!**


	4. Now

**NOW:**

Pasha was almost beside himself. He thought about all that he had lost in so little time, and then realised that actually, it was more about what had been revealed. His co-workers had never seen him as a real friend, just a little boy who was good at maths. They'd never really taken him seriously, any of them.

Spock – he had never liked Pasha, nor had he ever really been attracted to him. It was just that Pasha had been there, and then once the bond was formed it had been logical to indulge in it. Kirk, Sulu, Uhura, Scotty and McCoy may have nothing but disdain for him now, but Spock _hated_ him. He'd felt it, just before their bond disappeared, and then it had left him with this empty gap in his soul that he could still feel, even now.

As Pasha lay on the biobed, the scanner moving back and forth over him, he thought about how very stupid the whole situation was. At some point, Spock would have to come back into contact with that other Vulcan, and surely he would ask about the interference with his ex-bondmate? Maybe then he would retract all the accusations and allow Pavel his freedom and dignity once more. Pasha wasn't sure if he would ever be able to work on the Enterprise again, but there would always be another ship waiting for him somewhere. All of the ships he had any interest in working on were due to land on New Vulcan at some point, which was why finding work was going to be interesting, as the captains of those ships wouldn't want a navigator whom wasn't welcome to that planet.

Pasha heard a tut from the foot of the bed. He shifted his gaze and mind back to the doctor, just in time to see her reprogramming the scanner and sweeping it over Pasha once more, this time over his midriff.

"What is it, Doctor? Am I very sick?"

Dr. Edwards was shaking her head as she reread the results, and she glanced back up at him, "You don't have an illness, Mr. Chekov. But tell me, have you engaged in a sexual relationship with an alien in the last few months?"

Pasha's eyes widened, "Yes, with a Vulcan." What else had that bastard done to him?

Edwards expression was blank, "Male?"

"Da."

She closed her eyes, "I'm not very well informed of Vulcan physiology and mating rituals, so we're going to need more help."

"But what's wrong with me, Doctor?" queried Pasha again, as she turned away from him to type something up.

After a few seconds, she finished and turned to look him in the eye, "You must remain calm. I've never seen this between a male Vulcan and male human before, but there's no denying that the scanner is telling me you're about three months pregnant, Mr. Chekov."

"What?" Pasha asked, frowning. He was certain his English was failing him; she couldn't _possibly_ have just said what he thought she had.

"You are _pregnant_. Lie back against the pillows and we'll try and get to the bottom of this."

Pasha blinked, "I'm having a baby?" He waited, but she didn't respond. "Doctor? I am a man."

She smiled grimly, "That you are. And you're also with child."

Pasha's heart began to race. This was ridiculous, impossible. The whole thing was just a prank, surely? "But... I am... It must be an error."

"I've scanned you with two different scanners on three different settings, Pavel." She used his first name a little tentatively. "Obviously I'll run more tests, but I'm in very little doubt."

Pasha shook his head, unable to respond.

"You're not the first male human to be impregnated by an alien, but I confess I had no idea the Vulcan's could reproduce like this," Dr. Edwards said, rather stonily.

Another doctor and a nurse were called in. Dr. Jackson was evidently half-alien, but Pasha was too bemused to figure out the non-human side of her heritage. She was blue-skinned, and that was all he could register.

They spent another hour scanning Pasha, asking him questions and taking a couple of blood samples from him. Then, he was taken to a large, meeting room where they sat him down with a glass of water.

"Mr. Chekov," said Dr. Edwards, as Dr. Jackson sat down opposite him, "Your pregnancy is... quite extraordinary news. We cannot be absolutely certain as to how it's happened, as the Vulcan's are an intensely private race, particularly regarding mating, reproduction and sexuality. You are in shock, we know, and we will need to discuss your options at a later date."

Pasha gazed at her, dumbly.

Dr. Jackson offered him a small smile, "We want you to return home and rest, Mr. Chekov. Although you'll need time to make a decision, please refrain from ingesting any stimulants, so no caffeine or alcohol, please. We're going to schedule you another meeting here in two days, when we will hopefully have more answers, and we'd like you to bring in your PADD, please. This situation is definitely going to reach legal matters... quite a few, I should think."

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><p><strong>Sorry about the short chapter. Think of it as almost like an interlude... it gets pretty crazy hereafter and I've rewritten the next chapter several times. Please review!<strong>


	5. The Meeting, Part 1

**Thanks to my reviewers!**

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><p>During those two days Pasha didn't leave the house, but he hardly relaxed. On the one hand, his mind was telling him over and over again that he'd gone crazy, and on the other, mainly fuelled by the little reminders about his meeting ringing on his PADD every few minutes, he felt like laughing hysterically at how typical it all was.<p>

He was still living in his Starfleet Earth-based quarters, which consisted of a simple little bed, a desk, wardrobe and en-suite bathroom. All of his posters and clothes were still there, now looking oddly childlike to him. He stuck to the orders from the hospital; no caffeine or alcohol, although he severely doubted he'd have been able to keep them down.

When Pasha returned to the doctor's, twelve other people met him. Some were doctors, others psychologists, there were two lawyers and finally a couple of scientists. Pasha was asked to recount his relationship with Commander Spock, including the Pon Farr situation and then finally the 'break up'. The legality of Spock's restraining order was all there on his PADD, which the lawyers spent most of the meeting examining, checking it all matched with their own research.

Dr. Jackson stepped up and began to explain how the foetus had been conceived in him, Pasha only catching small pieces of information at a time.

"...We managed to get these files from the records of two human women who have birthed Vulcan hybrids... we've discovered that Vulcan semen contains a hormone that manages to enter the bloodstream after sex... you were often engaging in sexual intercourse, so the hormones were entering your body regularly for a good two months, until eventually a kind of temporary womb formed, and the foetus was conceived..."

Along with this, there were two huge holographic diagrams to help the explanation of where Pasha's DNA came into all of it. Pasha was smart enough to understand without them, of course, but it didn't mean all his questions were answered. Biology had never been his favourite scientific area.

"...The sudden lack of the hormone in the past few weeks has probably contributed to your nausea," said Dr. Jackson, still very kind over her businesslike tone, "Were you a Vulcan male, around the time of the birth a patch of skin around your belly would become very, very soft, and it would be easy to perform a caesarean without much risk. I couldn't say if the same thing would happen for you, but that would be one of the primary functions of the hormone post-conception."

Pasha shook his head, speaking for the first time in a while, "But what is the point of it? If Vulcan's, like human's, have males and females I don't understand where on the evolutionary scale this could possibly have been needed."

A older man with a thin beard spoke up, "The problem is, you are thinking of 'male and female' in human terms. It's true that Vulcan sex is similar enough to human sex, but the best way to explain this is to assume that Vulcan males are technically hermaphrodites. It may be that this impregnating ability evolved properly after Pon Farr became the primary mating time. Vulcan's, as you know, can mate outside of Pon Farr, but many choose not to, believing sex to be abandonment of their logical beliefs. In fact, many Vulcan's strive to maintain the belief that they feel nothing at all."

Pasha nodded as the man sipped his water before continuing, "So obviously, the need to survive would have increased tenfold when many Vulcan infants were being born at once every seven years, and of course, with Pon Farr, there's no guarantee conception will take place. However, this development must be older than that, if the hormone is strong enough to able to function the same way in a human bloodstream and body."

Pasha rubbed his aching temple, "So... okay, I think I understand this now. But... what am I supposed to do? Is the foetus even going to survive?"

"At the moment, it looks as though it will," said the man, "We're not going to lie to you... it's going to be a very trying ordeal..."

"That is, of course, if you actually _want_ to go through with it, Mr. Chekov," Dr. Edwards cut in, frowning slightly at the man, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "If you were to go ahead with it, we would supply you with the hormone via pills, or injections if you couldn't keep them down. The whole process would be similar to that of the last human man whom was impregnated."

"So... I don't have to keep it, if I don't want to?" Pasha said, slowly.

Dr. Jackson smiled sadly at him, "Absolutely not. This is _your_ body, Mr. Chekov, and you have rights here. Usually, the Vulcan High Council would also be making decisions as to your position and would probably persuade you to marry the other father, another Vulcan or give the child up and it would be raised there."

Pasha's eyes widened, "You mean the Council has no say in this? In what I do?"

One of the lawyers, Mr. West spoke up, "No, Mr. Chekov. That restraining order your ex-husband took out against you? It means that any and all of your messages, lawsuits... even SOS's get sent to the very end of the long line of information sent to them from Earth. As such, they can't limit your movements here, so you're not going to be made to wait for them to process your messages, either. Also, you can't visit New Vulcan; neither can any member of your immediate family. If the child was carried to term, it _would_ be your immediate family and there's no legal bond binding you to the other father. To sum it all up, Commander Spock has, at least off New Vulcan, thrown away any legal rights over you or the... potential half-Vulcan."

"Quarter," said Pasha and Dr. Jackson at once, smiling weakly at each other.

"So," Pasha began, keeping his voice slow so as not to butcher the English as he knew he had been for most of the meeting, "...although the message may not reach them for a while, or ever, have the Council actually been informed of my situation?"

The room was silent, save for an awkward cough.

"Not yet," said Mr. West, finally, "Not until after the decision is made on whether you're going to attempt to carry this child."

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><p><strong>You'll notice the way I've made up a vague explanation for Chekov's pregnancy, but I ignore the big details because none of it makes sense anyway. So, I do know how ridiculous it all is, but please stay with me! I at least hope Chekov's legal position is reasonably understandable!<strong>

**Please review! Reviews are like food for me.**


	6. The Meeting, Part 2

**Hi! Sorry for the wait. Had lots to do this month! Thanks for the responses!**

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><p>Pasha exhaled wearily. For the first time since he'd entered the room, he glanced around, catching each person's eye.<p>

"If you were to go through with this experiment, Mr. Chekov," said Mr. West, after a few moments of silence, "there would of course be money offered to you. It would be confidential; you would be well within your rights to ensure that the medical records are not made public for at least a couple of years, and even then you would appear as an anonymous patient. If you choose not to go through with it, you would have equal rights to your privacy, and you would also be able to be anonymous."

Pasha cleared his throat after a little while, "I suppose this... well, it must be of some scientific importance or interest?"

Another of the scientists spoke up, "Very much so. And when the Vulcan's finally find out about you they may well be interested too... as of course their population is down."

Pasha sighed. Obviously if he could assist New Vulcan in any way he would usually be very willing. But the unpleasant thought of his child being forced to marry into Vulcan society was almost too much to bear. Although, it was worth wondering whether the Vulcan's _would_ want anything to do with him or his child, since Pasha's 'scandal' and the fact the baby would only be quarter-Vulcan.

He frowned, "Although New Vulcan might not hear about me for a while, do you think Spock could find any way of filing a law suit against me if I make no attempt to contact him about this?"

"It's highly doubtful that he could," said Mr. West, "You were on Earth when you discovered the pregnancy _after_ he got the restraining order. To play it safe, I'd advise you do not go anonymous within the actual medical files, although they'll still be unavailable to the public. The files will have to be sent to Vulcan anyway, and as previously stated before, it is Commander Spock's fault if they take a while to be processed. This may also be the case if you contacted the Enterprise, and it would have to be as an emergency, otherwise you would be directly violating your restraining order. If at any point Spock discovers the pregnancy and claims you were withholding important information, this meeting has been documented as evidence that you would not have known the possibility of conception with him. It is another of his own errors for judging you wrongly."

Pasha frowned, "What do you mean?"

Dr. Jackson spoke up, "The Vulcan bond, Mr. Chekov. It's the foetus's presence that was the 'contamination' Spock thought it was. The presence is unusually strong for such an early stage in the pregnancy, but that's probably because of its mixed heritage."

Pasha closed his eyes and chuckled slightly. All of this had happened because of a foetus; an interrupted bond.

"Perhaps you should try to notify Commander Spock," said one of the psychologists, "After all, it was only in his nature to question your loyalty..."

"Of course it's not his fault for doubting my 'loyalty'," snapped Pasha, "But I had a right to defend myself, and he should have listened. I had a right to demand a proper investigation, and now it is too late. If he wants to know about the child, he'll have to look me up. It's not my problem."

"You could get money out of him," said Mr. West.

"I think I already have enough belonging to Spock," said Pasha, coolly.

He turned to Dr. Jackson; "Please be honest with me, Doctor. How dangerous is this going to be?"

Dr. Jackson nodded glumly, "It could eventually be life-threatening. You will be prioritised, however."

Pasha gulped and sat back in his seat.

He knew he had to be reasonably practical about the whole thing. He was male and therefore obviously not built for pregnancy. It would be painful, and it could end in disaster. But then the glorious, beautiful, wild possibility of having a child of his own to love came into his mind. A child to cuddle and kiss and tell stories to. A child to whom he would give the best of everything that he could. A child who would be so very different and would love him in return, as they became a little family. Pasha shook himself. He vowed not to think of the unborn baby as an actual 'child'. If there was a chance it didn't make it, he didn't want any more heartbreak.

On the other hand, he had no close relatives... well, not ones he spoke to, anyway. If he and the baby didn't make it, no one around them would get hurt. But then, he realised, would it be selfish to keep the baby, if there was a chance just _he_ would die? To leave a child, much less the only quarter-Vulcan, alone in the world with no family? His whole theory of having no one close to affect was all very well, but it would be blown out of the water if the baby survived and he didn't.

Spock had treated him terribly, but Pasha knew he'd do the right thing for the child. He'd know, from his own experiences, where the child would be happiest and safest, if the both of them survived, which Pasha just couldn't yet foresee.

There was no right or wrong answer here. Whatever decision he made, it would be both selfish and selfless. The only way to try and ensure that there was the best outcome possible, was to be sensible about the other choices and scenarios that would come from his ultimate decision. If there was a sudden and immediate danger to his life, the pregnancy would be terminated just as it would be in a woman. He was going to have to pay attention to every single one of his doctor's instructions.

He felt a pang in his chest as he automatically thought of Dr. McCoy, somewhere out there in space, permanent scowl on as he examined some terrified patient. Pasha missed them all so very much. Even if they had been ignorant bastards, their intentions hadn't been cruel. They didn't really know of the situation properly, and Pasha would always be some stupid kid to them.

There was probably never going to be any forgiving and forgetting, because Pasha could see now that there had never really been any true friendship between them at all. Perhaps if he'd been able to stay longer, with none of this having happened of course, he could have formed as close an emotional bond with one or some of them as the Captain and Spock shared. How Pasha _longed_ for a friendship like that of what those two men had.

Now that he knew how everyone had seen him, Pasha did he supposed, understand everyone's initial reactions to the bonding incident. However, he _should_ have had the right to defend himself. Everyone's behaviour towards him; the disappointed stares and tone of reprimands, the harsh, cold voice from Uhura, as though he were the trouble student in a school where everyone had given up on him. Which was actually uncomfortably close to the truth, when he thought about it.

Sometimes, he found himself wondering whether his former friends actually knew what had happened, or at least, what Spock _thought_ had happened. No one had insulted him to imply such a thing. Nothing crude and harsh like: "slut" or "whore", not even anything a bit more formal; "adulterer" or "betrayer", for example.

_'You little deceiver.'_

Pasha closed his eyes.

There was a rather uncomfortable suspicion that he occasionally had. It was much too farfetched in terms of logic, and also Spock's morality. But sometimes, Pasha couldn't help but ponder the possibility that perhaps Spock had set him up. That perhaps there had been no such 'contamination of the bond', or at least, a change to it that Spock could see, but for whatever reason, breaking the bond over an apparent affair would be easier for the Vulcan? It _had_ been early days in the pregnancy, after all. Would Spock really have sensed a difference? Pasha honestly couldn't remember how he'd felt that day. All of his awareness of that week had been poured into the terrible, dark void left where Spock's presence had once been.

It sounded ridiculous, even in his mind. But, then again, his own guilt of failing to save Spock's mother still lingered. The Vulcan had never mentioned the incident, and Pasha had often found the apology stuck in his throat when he'd tried to voice it. Spock had never seemed the type to hold such a grudge, but if he had been doing so, it would explain the secrecy he'd maintained throughout their bond, and why it would be so easy for him to pull a stunt like the one Pasha sometimes privately suspected.

The irritating psychologist spoke up again, "Obviously you may feel restrained by the encouragement to be honourable with your decision, but we will be there to advise you, should you need it."

He smiled, "I don't think I'd like to be an honourable person right now, Doctor. Not to him, anyway. I shall go through with this pregnancy."

The entire room seemed to let out a sigh of relief or worry.

"It may answer many questions and will keep me interested whilst I am unemployed." He smiled sourly to himself as he stood.

Several of the doctors and scientist stood too, and began move around to line up to shake hands with him.

A young man in a white coat smiled at him warmly, his arm extended; "Well then, Mr. Chekov, we'll be working very closely with you. May I call you by your first name?"

Pasha hesitated. It was rather strange to have people treating him like an adult, even beneath the usual patronizing tones all doctor's had.

He shook the man's hand firmly; "Call me Pavel."


	7. The Will

**Thanks to my beta! And sorry for the wait, guys. It's a really busy time for me at the moment - I know this bit is kind of short but there will be more as the story is getting to the fun bit!.**

Pavel edited his will shortly after he made the decision to keep the child. The original documents were already mandatory as they would have been for anyone who spent time in space. It had taken a lot of thinking, and he had something, but no matter what he just could not see how to do 'the right thing'. He knew that there was plenty of time to change the will, but it was still extremely difficult. He tried to be methodical, and then would remember that he was deciding the fate of a person, who would be shaped by their upbringing just as his had shaped him.

So far, he had written that in the event of his death, should the child survive, he or she would inherit the money at the age of eighteen that Pavel had saved. Should the child be healthy and experience no complications, mentally or physically, he or she would be adopted by a willing family from Earth. If it seemed as though the child would struggle because of its mixed heritage, Starfleet doctors would be needed to care for him or her regardless of adoption. However, either of these events would only be necessary if Spock showed no interest in his child. Pavel had decided that whatever the physical, mental and emotional state of the child, in the event of his death, Spock should be contacted, as asshole or not, he _was_ the child's other parent. The message sent to the Commander would be priority, and could not be ignored by him, since of course there was no way Pavel would be sending it.

If both Pavel and the child perished, some of the money would go to his mother if she wanted it, and the rest of it to Starfleet and one of its charities. In such circumstances, Spock would not be contacted but several of Pavel's doctors would be talking to the Vulcan High Council about the risk of human male pregnancy by a Vulcan sire and their rights (using Pavel as an anonymous patient, he was assured), whether he lived or not.

And then there was the most complicated possibility of all; that Pavel _and_ the child would live.

Children couldn't be brought up in space, not long term, anyway. It was dangerous, isolating and impractical for everyone involved. For Pavel to leave his child on Earth was just impossible. If they both survived the pregnancy and birth, he didn't want to leave him or her, and he couldn't. Even if Pavel had a willing volunteer to raise the child planet-side, the baby's needs would probably be too great. Sometimes Pasha felt frustrated by being stranded, but other times he couldn't deny, were fascinating enough. Exploring parenthood, especially with a hybrid child was not going to be dull, Pavel decided, even as his body steadily experienced more of the unpleasant side effects of pregnancy.

The morning sickness did not go away, and soon Pavel was weak from iron deficiency and almost constant migraines. The doctors were actually a big help, even though he often felt stifled by their incessant hovering, but he knew that they had all the drugs, and therefore was not quick to shoo them away. He had been moved into the Starfleet hospital with his own private room and was monitored day and night. Pavel's sex aside, there was a lot of concern for how incapacitated he was already, and soon the constant scans and tests were able to tell them something useful.

There were two foetuses. Twins.

"Twins," said Dr. Edwards, "are very uncommon in Vulcan pregnancies. It explains why the bond was so strong, and perhaps why Spock reacted so badly – it probably didn't seem to him as if it could be a pregnancy at all."

Pavel was unsympathetic to Spock's possible point of view, and they spent the rest of the meeting discussing whether he would be able to carry twins.

"You've done well so far," she said. "There is no reason to assume the worst."

"Or the best," sighed Pavel. He was somewhat surprised that he wasn't more shocked at this new revelation, but he reasoned with himself that he was now pretty much ready for anything, no matter how bizarre.

As the pregnancy progressed, Pavel made further plans for what would happen afterwards. It was tricky, trying to find work of some kind that had people who would be patient enough to understand that he might not actually be there in a few months time, and if he _was_ there, that he might have a child or two in tow. He was positive, now that he knew he had the babies growing inside him, that he wished to keep them if all went well, for he was not so modest that he thought his mind wasn't brilliant enough to get him another well paid job. But what he wished now, was to be away from Starfleet. No matter where he went, there would always be a Starfleet base around somewhere, but he longed to escape the symbol that was etched everywhere he turned in his current location. Or perhaps, as Pavel tried to deny to himself from time to time, he wished to escape the possibility of running into certain people from the past.

Because that would be the next big problem; everyone else. Pavel had no idea if they would ever find out, and what would happen if they did. They had been quick to blame him for the incident aboard the Enterprise, and so hopefully they would leave him be. Many nights saw Pavel crying himself to sleep, remembering their harsh words and imagining even more as they discovered Pavel's pregnancy. Perhaps they would not bother to find out whether the babies were Spock's – after all, they weren't to know that the conception had required at least two months of sex between him and Pavel.

Some days Pavel got angry and became more determined to right the wrongs in his life. Direct revenge such as publically revealing his treatment at his previous post was tempting, but he told himself repeatedly that he did not care enough for the Enterprise crew to waste such time on them. And then, he would quickly become sad and withdrawn again, because he did care for them, and had from the moment he met them all. Even Spock, who would often prefer to be seen as cold and emotionless, and who abandoned Pavel for such foolish reasons. Pavel still missed him sometimes.

When the pregnancy got to the stage that Pavel often had to use a wheelchair, for he was still rather weak and completely unbalanced by his swollen stomach, he found the job he'd been looking for. It was not on Earth, and there would be dealings with Starfleet on occasion for designing ships and power sources, but it was good money and a diverse place where children of all kinds would feel welcome. Pavel felt strong for the first time in a while as he confirmed his position. No one called him 'Pasha' anymore, for that was a child's name, and even with current circumstances, Pavel was a _man_.


	8. Leaving It Behind

It was a shock to receive the call. The buzz of Pavel's PADD was almost always because of his doctors calling to see how he was or update him on his health. But the tone that rang out was one that Pavel hadn't heard in a good seven months, and he could only gawp at the contraption as it buzzed and beeped on the desk, Hikaru Sulu's name flashing on the screen several times before it faded and the PADD went silent again. A few moments later, it whirred with the announcement of a message, a texted one. Pavel wheeled himself over and took it in hand.

_Chekov,_

_I don't know if you still use this PADD, it rang so I guess you must do. I'm sorry I haven't contacted you before now. Just wanted to know if you're OK these days. Call me back?_

_Sulu_

It was short, simple. Typed, but to the man's credit he had tried to call first. Pavel wasn't sure what to make of it. It was strange seeing his last name on the screen, almost as strange as seeing Sulu's. He supposed that they'd referred to each other by their last names most of the time, anyway... he supposed it just seemed odd now that they really belonged to different worlds. Sulu was pilot of the Enterprise, off, out there in the stars somewhere, and Chekov was now Pavel, (hopefully) soon to be a parent and planet-side far away from here. It had been so long since he'd heard from any of the others.

_I'm sorry I haven't contacted you before now. _

There was no reason given, for Sulu not calling before now. Although, he supposed it went both ways... it wasn't as if _Pavel_ had tried to call anyone.

_Just wanted to know if you're OK these days._

'These days'... so Sulu felt the gap between their different lives too. But as he'd already said, he'd not called before now. He wasn't worried, simply curious, maybe a bit guilty after remembering his ex-crewmate suddenly one day, and calling out of boredom; perhaps the Enterprise had not seen any adventure for a little while. There was no news given of how Sulu was, or anyone else... maybe Pavel shouldn't answer.

He'd get a new PADD, he decided. It had only been an unpleasant reminder of everything going on over the last few months anyway. He'd get a plain one, with no Starfleet logo etched into it, and he'd transfer the important files in somewhere easy to access, but out of sight.

_Call me back?_

No. There would be nothing to say. He could imagine how the conversation would go. Pavel would hold the thing on his swollen belly, but in front slightly so Sulu couldn't see it. He'd ask Pavel how he was, and say that honestly, he looked terrible. And was he in hospital? Where was he? And Pavel would just lie. He'd tell lie after lie.

"No, no, I'm fine, Sulu. I've had a cold. I've just moved to new lodgings. I'm still working for Starfleet, I might be working on a new ship soon."

And then Sulu would ask, "What ship? Where? I'll look out for it."

He wouldn't, but he'd say it all the same. To be kind, even though he'd be too busy to check out a new ship until they were planet side again or they crossed paths with the ship, which would lead to all kinds of awkward questions when Pavel wasn't on it.

Pavel deleted the message. He went into the 'notes' programme and wrote 'BUY NEW PADD' in a random file.

Within a month he had a new one, but Sulu hadn't called again.

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><p>The end of the pregnancy was drawing closer, and even though the future was still very uncertain, Pavel could only feel relief. He was tired of the back pain, the headaches and the nausea, tired of the uncontrollable hormones, tired of the wheelchair, tired of the hospital, tired of feeling tired all the time. The worry of what might happen was overridden with this feeling of wanting it all to be over. If Pavel died, he would not know any pain. His mother would be unhappy, but not devastated, for they'd never been close; he did not know whether it was her own refusal to bond with her first child, or simply her inability to, owing to some kind of depression, and it just didn't matter anymore. He did not feel sad when he thought of her, only when he thought of their shared past, so he would not think of it. Spock would not feel too bad, he knew, because the Vulcan's logical ways would most likely persuade him that he hadn't intentionally impregnated Pavel, and Pavel had chosen not to ask for help, therefore it was not his problem. As for the others, they would probably, and hopefully never know.<p>

Sometimes Pavel laughed to himself. He was allowed to think bad things sometimes, for this could well be the end of his life. He laughed at what a bunch of idiots the crew were. Spock, the hypocrite who claimed to be emotionless, Uhura, so possessive of Spock she didn't even realise it turned her into a hateful person, Kirk, so obviously in love with Spock that he was depressed and positively submissive around him, Sulu and Scotty, too afraid of protocol to question, but still able to believe cruel rumours, and McCoy, so busy, so patronising, so _angry_ that he felt it was OK to fuck who he liked, to take their care and love but give nothing in return.

How Pavel had loved Leonard. Admired him, worshipped him. He'd behaved how Kirk had with Spock. He'd known of course, that it wouldn't last. The way he was never allowed to speak about it... but still he'd hoped.

Pavel laughed at himself, then. Chekov, the little boy who saw the man he loved kissing some random woman, and was too devastated, too humiliated to confront him about it. Chekov, the boy who had believed that what he and the doctor had had could be real one day. Chekov, the boy who got fucked over twice. First by McCoy, then by Spock. He was glad McCoy couldn't have gotten him pregnant. It would be too painful to look at the children when they arrived.

He wondered if anyone ever knew about him and McCoy. Pavel laughed. He knew what they'd be thinking of him.

Chekov the slut.

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><p><strong>ONE MONTH LATER<strong>

He was still waiting to die.

In and out of consciousness he slid, the first time to the sound of violent beeps and infants' cries, the second, to a low hum and the clink of metal on glass. The other times, he was certain, were only within a few seconds of each other, as a distant conversation remained constant in timbre and location; somewhere to Pavel's left, possibly within an office with the door left open.

His body was numb, cold, but he didn't shiver. Darkness came.

The next time he awoke, Dr. Edwards blurrily smiled down at him, lifting a hand, which he recognised as his own, to her mouth and kissed it.

"You did it, Pavel," she said, softly, "You did it."

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><p><strong>Thanks to my reviewers! Sorry this chapter was a bit depressing, but Pavel's moods would be all over the place.<strong>


	9. Starting From Scratch

**Just for clarification, the pronunciation of Aliza is: "Al EE zah". I know that the children don't have Russian names – although I think that "Sergei" is, but they were really pretty and I liked them. Oh, and sorry that I couldn't think of a decent name for a planet.**

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><p>It took a few weeks for Pavel to build up his strength. Although the babies had obviously been delivered via caesarean, the anaesthetic had knocked him out during the procedure due to his weakened state. He soon worked sit ups into his daily regime to try and redevelop his abs, which currently felt as though they were all over the place. It was a relief to have his hormones somewhat under control again, and he began to plan meticulously for his family's move to the planet Victoria Six, where his new job was. Already he was feeling positive about the position, as he'd received messages of congratulations on the birth of the children, and a several more expressing concern for all of them.<p>

The children were doing well. He had a boy he'd named Serge, and a girl he'd named Aliza. Initially he'd been worried, as when the two babies were first placed in his arms, he hadn't really felt anything. He'd been prepared for the worst – that he would detest the children on sight or something, but when he'd first seen the two, he'd just registered that they were two babies. Small, pink and a little squashed, just... two babies. However, as the weeks had passed, he'd spent nearly every waking moment with them, and now adored them. Both of them had pointed ears, but as of yet he could not make out whether their eyebrows were swept up at the ends. Both were pale and green-blooded, although this was only apparent if people looked at them very closely. Serge had a lot of very black hair, but Aliza was mostly bald, but for a few thin bits of dark hair. They were still tiny, helpless and unable to even roll, but day by day they were becoming more bright-eyed and alert.

Dr. Edwards visited them one afternoon. She watched as Pavel dressed Serge and pulled faces at him. Although both the children were responsive, Serge definitely emoted more. Aliza had not smiled yet, but the doctors had assured Pavel that she was seeing and hearing just fine. They said it was because of her Vulcan heritage, and that both babies might take a while longer to become more expressive. They encouraged him to keep smiling at and talking to them as much as possible, however.

"You've given them human names, yes?" asked Dr. Edwards.

Pavel grinned at his son and kissed his forehead before replying to her, "I don't know many Vulcan ones, or at least names that would suit either of them. Anyway, I don't want them to feel too attached to a culture they might never be welcome to."

Dr. Edwards nodded, "When are you leaving?"

"In a week."

"There's been no word from New Vulcan or the Enterprise?"

"Why should there be?" said Pavel, gently lifting Serge to place him in his cot before picking up Aliza to dress her. "I haven't contacted the Enterprise, and New Vulcan will make me wait a very long time – if they bother with the message of my pregnancy at all. No. I am leaving in a week, and there is only you and the other people who helped me with this to say goodbye to."

The doctor moved to lean over the crib and tickle Serge beneath his chin. "You're not letting your mother know of your move, then?"

Pavel laughed, and the noise actually made Dr. Edwards flinch. "My mother probably doesn't even know I was in Starfleet! No, no. There is nothing, sentimental or otherwise, between her and myself."

She sighed, "I'm sorry I asked again. It's just that it would be in your best interests to gain as much support as possible, and having close bonds with people away from Victoria Six would certainly be beneficial to you and the children."

"Ah, networking," said Pavel, and Dr. Edwards faintly registered that his accent had softened a great deal since they first met. Pavel was smiling as he finished dressing Aliza and picked her up for a cuddle. "All friendships and families have to begin somewhere. Many refugees and runaways are forced to start from scratch. Some fail, but many, many succeed."

"Not that you're a runaway, of course."

"In some ways, yes, I am. But I do have at least one friendship here, and that is you." Pavel approached her, and with the free arm not supporting his daughter, he embraced the doctor. "For all that you have done, since the very start, I thank you. And I shall miss you, Isabella."

A week later, Pavel boarded the ship that would take him and his children to their new home. The journey was long but comfortable, and Pavel laughed when he found himself in space for the first time in seven months.

"Isn't it beautiful, children?" he said to the twins, moving their bassinette close to a window. He hesitated, "How strange to think you two were conceived in space." Then he burst out laughing. It was a good thing everyone's quarters were soundproofed.

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><p><strong>I'm sorry this part is so short, but the next bit there's a time leap and the tone of the fic will change a bit. I'm also aware of how long this is taking and felt that I owed my readers something. I promise I'm not intentionally leaving you guys in the lurch. College is horrendously busy and there's a lot to get done right now, and so updates will be random, sometimes quick, sometimes slow. However, we're getting to the good stuff now. I know exactly where this fic is going now, it has changed a bit from when I first started, but in my opinion it's going to be better than it would have been. Thanks again to my readers, I don't know when the next update will be (it IS in progress, I promise) but it will definitely be of decent length and hopefully very enjoyable for all of you.<strong>


	10. David

**Hey, sorry about how long this took again. Life's still crazy-busy, and updates with still be unpredictable, but thank you to the people still reading. I hope you enjoy where I take this.**

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><p>Pavel had known David since they'd first arrived on V6. David owned a large portion of the company he worked for and had insisted upon being there to greet Pavel when they left the ship. David was flirtatious, charming, instantly likeable, about sixteen years Pavel's senior, and filthy rich. Upon meeting him, David said, "Let me see, you're a young genius; expert in math and science, you play chess, you can fight, you're ridiculously attractive and you've carried twins. Is there anything you can't do, Pavel?"<p>

Pavel, still rather in the thrall of post-natal hormones and with his defences up, had replied, "I can't stand being patronised." For a split second he thought he'd made a terrible mistake, but David had just laughed and insisted they get a drink together some time. But Pavel had assumed that "get a drink" meant simply "have a drink as acquaintances" and not "let's go out _together_". It didn't matter for a short while, because he did not get much time for such things upon the first few weeks of his arrival. Much of his work was done at home, giving him time to spend with his babies. The children were a handful, but a young woman named Anne had been employed to help care for them. She was a lifesaver for Pavel really, as no matter how hard he worked; he just didn't seem able to have both Serge and Aliza under control at once. He'd attend to one, and the other would start fussing. He'd change one of the baby's diapers, and the other would promptly fill theirs. It would have been chaos if not for Anne, and often it was still close to that.

Pavel worked hard, both at being a parent and at his job. Although his superiors and colleagues were supportive and sympathetic to his situation, he still made sure to put in an appearance at the office at least twice a week, both for appearances and also because the building was extraordinarily beautiful. He also started working at his English again. He had never been embarrassed of his accent, as he was fairly confident that his extensive vocabulary made up for it, but he wanted it toned down a little. He wanted his voice to sound as mature as possible, whatever language he was speaking.

Occasionally he still felt rather overwhelmed by everything. It wasn't that he didn't love his job or his children, but he'd spent so much time fearing that he'd never get there that it was often sobering whenever the memories of the reasons _why_ came back to him. Whenever he looked at the children, he was reminded of Spock, and he often wondered if that was why his mother hadn't wanted to look at him; had it been because Pavel reminded her of something she'd have rather forgotten about? But that didn't matter, he decided, because he wasn't going to resent his children. He _adored_ them now; they were his world. Which was perhaps another reason why, when David finally asked him out on a date, he felt strange about it. Naturally there was the lingering hurt of his last relationship, and then the fear of yet another disastrous result if he attempted another. But also, there was the fact that he had not really considered his love life after having the kids. He'd never really thought much about love, since his career had dominated his focus since he'd been old enough to know what a job was. He was not exactly against the idea of going out with David, who seemed perfectly decent and whose attentions towards Pavel had not attracted any hostility from the other employees at the office – it seemed that he had finally found a job where people behaved appropriately regarding each other's private lives. However, David's wealth and undeniable sense of status was slightly intimidating. If David actually proved to be some kind of scoundrel, he would suffer absolutely no judgement, and Pavel would potentially be left broken-hearted for the third time running. Also, Pavel was acutely aware that David did not have a well-documented dating life. He was very private, and no one around knew all that much about him. Yvonne, Pavel's immediate superior told him that David had never dated anyone from the office before. "You must have really caught his eye," she told him, giving him a little wink. Pavel just heaved a sigh when she'd walked away. He'd caught Leonard McCoy's eye, too, for about five minutes.

When Pavel returned home, he thought on the subject more. He would be just thirty-six years old when the children were eighteen. And if he was fortunate enough to form a successful relationship with someone else before then, he could spend plenty of time in space when the children were even younger. He could, very potentially, have the best of both worlds. If he wanted both, which he still wasn't sure about. He was still certain he wished to return to space at some point, but he would put the children's needs first. He wasn't going to just run out on them every so often; he was still somewhat haunted by the rumours of Jim Kirk's upbringing. As he and Anne bathed the twins, Pavel asked her what she thought about it. "Well," she replied, "you get a good amount of time at home with your family, and more than enough at the office by the sound of it."

Pavel nodded, "I could technically just work at home and only come in when they call me, but I want to know the people I'm working with."

"I think if you like this David, you should go out with him," she said. "He may be your sort-of-boss, but he would be unable to fire you if things didn't go well, right?"

"Right. I looked that one up immediately!" said Pavel, snorting. He looked sideways at her as the twins splashed weakly in the shallow bathwater. "You really think I should?" She nodded.

And so it was that a few nights later, Pavel found himself at a bar, talking with David. The man was pretty gorgeous with his dark eyes and fair hair, and he was also hilarious. Fortunately, David liked making people laugh, because Pavel was shaking with laughter rather unattractively by the end of the night. He had a wonderful time, and when David asked if they could go out again, Pavel said yes, straightaway.

They started going out more and more often. Pavel had no idea whether it was going anywhere, but he knew he was happy, and that he liked David. David was fortunately almost as intelligent as he was rich, and so the pair of them never felt out of their depth together. David was too easygoing and polite to throw Pavel off even when he was being extremely vulgar and flirtatious. He was also curious about the children, but when they arranged a day out with them, Pavel finally felt out of his depth. He did not know how David would be, but as it turned out, he needn't have worried. David wasn't exactly great with infants, but he didn't panic when things went wrong, such as when the babies cried, neither did he abandon Pavel to deal with them himself, and held Serge as Pavel saw to Aliza, talking to the baby as though he were twenty rather than ten weeks old. Many days, and a few nights, were spent at David's mansion, which even David admitted was ridiculously huge and pretentious. "Belonged to my grandfather," he explained, somewhat sheepishly.

The day eventually came when David asked seriously about Serge and Aliza's other biological parent. "I admit I had a little nose around in your file before you came here," he said thoughtfully as they sat in Pavel's study. "But much of it was kind of complicated and I wasn't sure if I really understood it."

Pavel smiled softly, "I think I can tell you, if you want to hear it."

"You don't have to, I mean that... if you don't think I need to hear it then, please don't worry about it. But... we're dating, and you have the kids and I feel like I should understand anything that might come up. I really like you, and the babies are the cutest, even if I'm not the best with them."

"For a bachelor who's obviously terrified of children, you're pretty good with them, David."

"Hey, I'm not terrified of anything. Just wary. Kids are smart, baby, especially yours."

"Oh, I know," laughed Pavel. They looked at each other for a moment, and then he took a breath and exhaled lightly, "Where should I begin?"


	11. Casual Proposal

Pavel had, by now, accepted the fact that life was not steady, fair, and it was also only barely logical. He wasn't exactly at peace with that, but he accepted it. However, this didn't mean that when David casually proposed to him barely a year after them having met each other he wasn't surprised.

"What?" he practically squeaked, staring at his boyfriend after the man had insisted he wasn't kidding.

"Let's get married," said David, amused and completely unmoved by Pavel's incredulousness. "We're happy; we make each other laugh, we're into the same things, and we look _great_ together."

"I can't believe this," said Pavel. "We're not even in love! We're happy, sure, but this is the most casual-serious relationship ever!"

"But it's still a _successful_ relationship. And we love each other, even if we're not _in_ love. And I love the kids, and they love me."

"Why _marriage_? Why can't we just try... living together or something first?"

"We can do that if you want to, and I'm not saying is conditional to our relationship or anything, babe." David smiled apologetically, "I'll be honest, I'm proposing for selfish reasons. First of all, my father has been desperately trying to get me to ask you to marry me since he figured out he wasn't going to get grandchildren any other way, and second, you know how much the people at headquarters on Earth love monogamy. Even though we've been dating for over ten months, it would look better if we were married; it would make us look good in general." Anyone else saying what David was would probably have made Pavel want to punch them in the face, but he knew David. He knew how they were together. Although they had both uncomfortably admitted to not being passionately in love months previously, they had also both confessed to desperately wanting to stay together, for they were so fond of each other. David had made a joke at the time, at how they were already an old married couple, and clearly that had put ideas into his head.

"But marriage, David. Just think about what you're saying! We would be living together... We would, right?" he asked, eyeing David, who nodded. "There would be two babies making noises and messes all the time, we'd have to _tolerate_ each other."

"You have no faith," sighed David dramatically, then he smiled kindly. "I don't know if you've noticed, but I live in a huge house. Sure, I'd rather be sharing a bed with you, but you're entitled to your own wing in the old place. And the kids are not that bad, not for one-year-olds, so I'm told."

Pavel just laughed in disbelief, "And what if one day one or both of us want to be with other people?"

"Not a problem. If either of us wants to date outside the marriage, that's fine as long as the other doesn't mind. We should probably maintain a front of monogamy unless any other attachments get more serious, and if that happens, we can divorce, and I swear to you now, it would be a fair one."

They talked for a long time, Pavel still not quite certain this was really happening.

"David," he said with a sigh "...I want to trust you and believe that this would work, but I make people angry. The last two relationships I was in, if they could even be called that, I seriously misjudged the situations and even though I know I wasn't in the wrong, I still made a lot of mistakes. I trusted too easily and was out of my depth from the beginning both times."

David took Pavel's hands in his, stroking his thumbs along his lover's skin. "Your last two relationships were to a pair of self-absorbed assholes," he said softly. "I'm sorry, Pavel. I didn't do this very well. But the offer stands. I do _want_ to marry you. I think, no, I _know_ we'd be amazing together, and if anything we'd have a lot of fun. But it's not a necessity, and you don't even have to think about it if it's too ridiculous for you. Just... please don't break up with me over it," he finished quickly.

"I won't," laughed Pavel. "And you haven't offended me or anything, it's just I don't quite see what we'd do afterwards. We'd be _married_, David! I have children... do you actually want to be a parent to them? Because you can be casual with me, but _not_ with them, not ever."

"I'll become a willing parent to Serge and Aliza. They wouldn't have to address me as 'father' or anything if that's going to be an issue, but if they want to, they can. If you marry me, I'll dote on them, teach them and give them advice as soon as they're old enough to need it, the whole damn thing. Of course I'll do that whether we're married or not, if we're still together or... talking at least."

It took another four weeks for Pavel to give David an answer, and he wasn't sure who was more surprised at his decision, him or David. He'd come to his conclusion after a particularly restless night of getting up to deal with Aliza who kept fussing, and from being unable to switch off his thoughts. It was odd, but his contemplation of marrying had become very, very selfish, even as he tried his best to remain thoughtful of David and the twins. He thought over David's words; _"It would make us look good."_ And yes, he supposed they did look good together, he and David. And with Serge and Aliza, they looked like a proper family. They looked mature. They looked like nothing could touch them. And so, the next day, Pavel called David, and said bluntly, "I think we should get married, you know."

The wedding was highly publicised on V6, even though they hadn't allowed any photography within the actual building the ceremony was held. It wasn't extraordinarily grand, for neither had many friends and even less family, but just about the entire office was invited. Pavel didn't tell his mother at all, for she'd never responded to the news of the twins. There just didn't seem any point. He kept his surname, not wanting to force the children to let David's go if the marriage didn't work out.

Of all the stupid things he'd ever done, this really was just about the most unstable and stupid, but as he said his vows he was filled with warm delight. This felt right, even though it felt so terribly _bad_.

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks for reading, I'm so glad people liked David! The children will feature more prominently in the next chapter. <strong>


	12. Story up for adoption

Hey readers. I'm really sorry but fan fiction is now something I can no longer commit to, and so I am putting this up for adoption. For now it will stay where it is, but just to warn you guys that it might disappear quite soon. Thanks for reading and reviewing, and sorry to disappoint you. I hope someone picks it up or is inspired by it. xxx


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