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Chapter Text

Starfleet Academy, c. 2256

Cadet Kirk was heading back to his apartment with a long evening of homework ahead of him, when he saw his neighbor Nellie Finney standing on the curb with a suitcase. Since she was 8 months pregnant, this was alarming enough to warrant him stopping to ask what was up. “Early labor,” she admitted. “And Ben’s at Jupiter Station with his students. I called and he’s trying to get back, but meanwhile the midwife says I need to go straight to the maternity center. I’m waiting for a cab, now.” She was putting on a brave front, but the quaver in her voice was as good as shouting I’m 0.02 seconds away from completely losing it.

Naturally, Jim blurted out, “I’ll come and sit with you until Ben gets there.”

In the cab, she began to ramble nervously about how she hadn’t even had lunch yet today and Ben just had to be away, stupid Starfleet schedules, and it was nearly a month before her due date, anyway. That one, Jim could try to be reassuring about. “I was born 5 weeks early during a starship evacuation,” he offered, “And I’m fine, aren’t I?”

Nellie gave him a pointed look and said, “I believe that’s a subject of some debate, Jimmy. To hear your friend McCoy tell it, you’re practically held together with duct tape and curses.”

“Don’t believe a word of it,” Jim said with his best charming smile. “I’m fine. I was only born early because I was eager to get the party started.”

Once they arrived, there was admissions paperwork and taking of vitals and Nellie’s needing to get changed into a gown for an examination. Jim hovered in the waiting room. He comm’d Ben with the update and got back “ETA 2 hours. Can you stay with her?” He sent back a yes, and moments later, Nellie’s midwife was waving him into the room.

Whatever the midwife had done during that exam, it had made Nellie go pale. She looked up from bed and said, “Jim, they say I’m already 9cm dilated.”

Jim looked at the midwife in surprise. “Uh, forgive my ignorance, but doesn’t that usually take a long time?”

Nellie sheepishly admitted, “I’ve been hoping since last night that this was all just practice contractions.”

Jim took only a split-second to process that (he’d have to tell his professor the next time he had an assignment designed to evaluate coping under pressure). Then he said, “Right. Well. Do we have at least 2 hours? The father of the baby is returning from Jupiter.”

The midwife gave him a slightly long-winded answer that was probably intended to be reassuring, yet amounted to: maybe. Or maybe not.

“What can I do to help you, Nellie?” was his next question.

The answers to that included “call my mother for me” and “talk to me about literally anything else” and “remind me that I actually wanted this because I love my kid” and “hold my hand” and “get me some morphine if possible”, all of which carried them through ninety minutes and the final centimeter of progress. When push came to shove, Jim found himself wondering what idiot put Jupiter station so far away from Earth, as well as who knew Nellie could scream this loudly?

Ben finally arrived when his daughter was fifteen minutes old. Even as he was apologizing and asking if his wife was all right and swearing to never go farther than the moon again as long as he lived, Nellie was saying, “It’s fine! We’re fine! I think we’d better name her ‘Jame,’ though, in honor of her godfather getting us both through this.”

And that was how Jim Kirk acquired godchild #1.

Chapter Text

Starbase Yorktown, 2263

Shortly after the Battle of Yorktown, Ben Sulu got drunk at Captain Kirk’s birthday party. He buttonholed the guest of honor to say, “Y’know, Jim. I usedta think y’were a bad influence on m’husband. But now’at you’ve saved our butts so many times, I think you’re a’ight. An’ when I finally get Hikaru to agree to a second baby, I wanna make you the godfather. S’long as there’s no more diving off orbital mining platforms, y’hear?”

Hikaru Sulu rolled his eyes at the reference and said, “Ben, we can have another baby right away if you’ll promise to stop bringing up the Nero incident at parties.”

“Deal!” Ben shouted triumphantly.

Baby James Sulu was born the next year, and Jim officiated his naming ceremony with pride. That was godchild #2.

Chapter Text

Gamma Trianguli VI, 2267

An away team had destroyed Vaal, an artificial intelligence that had been managing the population of Gamma Trianguli VI. Captain Kirk could almost hear the censorious message he’d soon be receiving from Command, which would no doubt insinuate that violating the Prime Directive was beginning to be a bad habit for the Enterprise crew. That promised to be a difficult conversation.

For now, he had to focus on the problem in front of him: the native population didn’t know what children were. For reasons that were doubtless known to – and a source of amusement for – the gods above, they’d asked Kirk to explain it to them. Worse yet, a whole crowd had gathered to hear his explanation.

"You know, little ones, that look like you…?" he tried. “They grow up?”

“Oh, you mean replacements?” the leader, Akuta, suggested.

That sounded promising, so Jim said, “Right! How do you make replacements?”

Another member of the crowd, Sayana, spoke up: “In the past, if anyone was injured beyond repair, Vaal would instruct us to create a replacement.” She frowned and added, “But without Vaal…where will the instructions come from?”

Spock was standing to Jim’s left, and naturally he would never be caught laughing aloud, but Jim knew full well that he was enjoying this. Two could play at that, though. He turned and said, “Well, Mr. Spock, you're the science officer. Why don't you explain it to the young lady?"

“I am not well-informed enough on the biology of this species,” Spock said promptly. “Perhaps Dr. McCoy would be better suited to advise?”

Bones, standing just behind Spock, pulled a face and said, “They’re nearly identical to humans of Earth. I think we have some library tapes that could be most instructive.”

“What is a…liberry type?” Akuta asked, looking worried. “Will it hurt?” Jim groaned inwardly; he did not want to start extolling the virtues of computer-assisted sex education on the same day he’d killed the planet’s god-computer.

Behind Jim, Yeoman Martha Landon said, “Excuse me, sir, if I may make a suggestion?”

“Please,” Jim urged.

“Could we split this conversation up by gender? I’ll have a practical chat with the women and you – or Dr. McCoy or Pavel – can discuss the basics with the men. Then they can figure it out from there,” the yeoman suggested. Why didn’t I think of that? Jim wondered as he gratefully agreed to the plan.

There were plenty of awkward questions asked and answered in the remainder of the day, and Bones certainly snarked enough (“James T. Kirk, who are you trying to fool by offering advice on contraception? Step outside and I’ll call you when it’s time to talk about kink negotiation.”) Nevertheless, Captain Kirk did his best with everyone's increasingly detailed questions.

Before the year was over, Sayana and her new husband Makora asked the Federation envoys to convey their request that he visit their new baby girl Tiberia on his next visit to Gamma Trianguli VI. That was godchild #3.

Chapter Text

Enterprise, later that same year

Dr. McCoy called Captain Kirk to his office and reported, “Carolyn Palamas rejected her breakfast this morning."

Confused as to how this was report-worthy, Jim asked, "Some bug going around?"

“No,” McCoy said. "She's pregnant, Jim. I've just examined her."

“What?”

"You heard me."

"Apollo?"

"Yes."

There was a pause, then, as Jim did some math in his head. The mission to Pollux IV, six weeks earlier, had involved [an alien who claimed to be] the god Apollo demanding time alone with Carolyn Palamas. The crew attempted to resist, which cost Scotty a finger when a phaser exploded in his hands. To deescalate the situation, Lt. Palamas had agreed to go with Apollo. There had never been any doubt as to what Apollo wanted her for – you don’t need a classics degree to know what Greek gods did to women – and the post-mission protocols had taken that into account.

Jim finally said, "Bones, it's impossible! Didn’t you give her an emergency contraceptive as soon as we got back?”

“Damn straight I did,” the doctor shot back indignantly. “I wouldn’t have skipped that. Besides which, she already had the standard three-month shot in her system.”

“Well then, how can she be pregnant?”

“You tell me!” Bones nearly yelled, slamming his hand on the table – for emphasis or out of sheer frustration, Jim didn’t know. “But she is. And now she refuses to attempt termination. She insists it would fail just like the contraception did. I would’ve tried to argue the point, if there weren’t massive ethical issues involved in a doctor trying to insist on a procedure that the patient doesn’t want.”

Jim absorbed the tirade and said, “Well, then, she has you there.”

“Has me where?” Bones asked. “What am I supposed to do? My medical courses did not include obstetrics for infant gods.”

“Of course not. Dammit, you’re a surgeon, not a midwife,” Jim agreed. “We’ll offer her the usual 2-year family leave, and send her somewhere with more specialists.”

“That’s the other problem,” Bones said with a sigh. “She asked me to tell you she doesn’t want to take leave. She says she won’t tell me more until she talks to you personally.”

Jim didn’t know what to say to that.

As it happened, Lt. Carolyn Palamas knew exactly what she wanted to say when the captain met with her in a conference room. To wit, “This kid is inevitable. Demigods can be cut out of their mothers and grown inside their father’s heads, but they can’t be undone by an abortifacient.”

“Point taken, though with all due respect to the ancient Greeks, modern medicine can offer more effective methods.”

“Regardless, I don’t think termination would be the right choice,” Carolyn stated firmly. “I don’t want this baby, yet I do find I care about it.”

Jim had prepared for that answer. He shifted gears with, “Dr. McCoy asked me to remind you of the options for transferring it to a surrogacy chamber.”

“No. We have no idea how its hybrid physiology could interact with that technology. The myths say ancient gods had children with human women, so we know that can work. I think that’s what I’m going to have to do,” she insisted.

She laid out the rest of her agenda just as clearly. Kirk could practically see bullet points floating through the air as she explained.

• She was not interested in pausing her career to raise a child whom she’d never consented to making.
• According to ancient myths, the mothers of demigods did not always survive.
• Due to the above two points, she would like to have an adoption plan firmly in place before she went into labor.
• She wanted the captain’s assistance in making those arrangements.

“Why mine?” he asked.

Carolyn didn’t hesitate to say, “Because I kept in touch with Carol Wallace after she left Enterprise. She says you’ve been very involved with David.”

“As much as I can be from this far out,” Jim confirmed.

“So, I figure you know something about childcare. And, since I don’t want to have to tell the story of how I conceived over and over again, my choices for whom to assign as my power of attorney are limited to the members of the away team,” Carolyn said. “Of whom, you’re the one I trust the most to be this baby’s godfather.”

Jim wasn’t sure if he was flattered or not. He settled for, “That’s fair. I’ll help you.”

Carolyn thanked him and then went straight to the point. “We’ll need an adoptive family with high enough clearance to know about the Apollo situation, which isn’t turned off by the idea of a mixed-species adoption, and…” She laid out three or four additional criteria. Jim, though, had already realized whom he needed to call.

A bit less than 8 months later, Winona Kirk boarded Enterprise and entered the captain’s quarters. “Hi, Mom,” Jim said. She looked at him where he was sitting at the captain’s desk. It would’ve looked very official if he hadn’t been shirtless and cradling a tiny baby against his chest.

“Son, I never thought I’d live to see you doing kangaroo care for a newborn,” Winona said with a smile.

“You should’a heard Mr. Spock trying to pronounce ‘ootchie wootchie gootchie goo,’” Jim replied. “Come here and let me introduce you.” When Winona came to his side, he addressed the baby with, “Maggie, this is our mom, the woman I was telling you about. Mom, this is Margaret Kirk, your new daughter.” He carefully passed the little girl over.

Winona got her settled in her arms and said, “Hi, Maggie! I’m your new mommy. And this half-dressed man is your big brother, Jim.”

“She’s already met me, Ma,” Jim pointed out as he put his shirt back on. “I’ve been taking care of her for the past two days and two nights.”

“Yes, even though Mommy came as fast as she could, Jimmy took care of you,” Winona cooed, addressing herself to Maggie rather than Jim. “You’ve got the best big brother, yes you do! Years ago, he heard me say that I should have a daughter, after two sons and four grandsons. When you came along, he called to tell me that he’d found me the perfect daughter to adopt. And he fixed everything up so that your first mother could get the right medical care without having to leave her post. How’s Carolyn doing, anyway?” That last was not in the same babytalk tone, so Jim knew he was the intended audience.

“They’ve got her in the support chamber, still heavily sedated while she heals,” he explained. “There was a lot of, uh, damage. Complications. Turns out all those myths about Greek gods’ offspring being difficult to bear had some basis in fact. But Bones says she’ll recover. We’ve got a plan to keep her on board during her sick leave so she can resume her post when she’s ready.”

Winona nodded and said, “I’d like to see her before we leave, of course.” Then to the baby, she said, “And maybe she’ll visit you, Maggie, when she’s ready. Meanwhile, you’ve got me and Jimmy and your big brother Sam and four nephews…”

Maggie was godchild #4.

Chapter Text

Enterprise/New Vulcan, still in the very-eventful 2267

Spock had seemed unusually stressed for nearly a week. When he requested that they schedule a trip to New Vulcan as soon as possible, naturally, Captain Kirk asked why. If Jim had listed all the answers Spock could’ve given, “I need to get married” would’ve been at the very bottom, if it appeared at all.

“Need to?” the captain asked.

Spock explained, “The bride is pregnant, and she would like to be married before she delivers.”

“Wait, you have a pregnant fiancée? I didn’t even know you were seeing someone.”

“I’m not,” Spock said, without offering further details.

“…Mr. Spock, I think you’d better start from the beginning,” Jim said.

That turned out to be the start of a rather long story, interrupted by Jim’s many questions. Spock’s affianced wife, T’Pring, had died with Vulcan. (“Wait, you were married? While you were dating Uhura?” “More like engaged, though the precise relationship does not have a Terran equivalent.”) He’d begun searching for a second wife as soon as Uhura broke up with him. Yet as a sterile hybrid who couldn’t propagate the now-endangered species, Spock had found himself in low demand on the Vulcan marriage market. At the same time, however, the marriage prospects had brightened significantly for his brother Sybok (“Hang on, I happen to know you don’t have a brother.” “Technically, you are correct. I have a half-brother.”) Prior to the destruction of Vulcan, Sybok had been something of an outcast because of his association with the v'tosh ka'tur (“The what now?” “A splinter sect that rejects logic.”) More recently, Sybok’s stock had risen as the only surviving son of a prominent Vulcan family on his mother’s side, and the only fertile son of Sarek. He’d contracted a betrothal with a forward-thinking eligible young lady, T’Mid, and they'd celebrated the engagement by getting pregnant. To the shock and horror of polite Vulcan society, however, he’d publicly broken the engagement when T’Mid refused to leave New Vulcan with him to seek the mythical planet of sha-ka-ree. To save face for both families, Spock had agreed to marry her and raise the child.

After that explanation, Jim got up and poured himself a drink, tossing it back quickly. “OK, I think I’ve got it straight, now,” he told his first officer. “We’ll go to New Vulcan as soon as schedules allow, and I can offer you the standard honeymoon leave.”

“That would be much appreciated,” Spock replied. “Since T’Mid and I have never met, I wish to acquaint myself with her as much as possible before we commence co-parenting.”

It didn’t take too much bureaucratic finagling to squeeze in a trip to New Vulcan; Starfleet was already sending regular shipments of aid and materials to that colony. Commander Spock had a perfect right to request honeymoon leave, so the personnel officer raised no objections. Jim wasn’t present in sickbay when Spock requested a premarital STD screening, though he heard all about it from Bones that evening.

“At least this explains why his stress hormones have been elevated for a month,” McCoy grumbled as Jim poured him a drink of similar proportions to the one he’d needed for himself. “A freakshow like this would drive anyone nuts.”

“Oh come on, it’s not like that. Spock’s just doing the honorable thing, and seizing his first chance at fatherhood while he’s at it,” Jim pointed out. “It’s not even that bizarre by human standards, if you take a broad view of history. Cross a Levirate marriage with the old ‘give the baby a father’ trope, and you’ve got Spock’s situation.”

Bones rolled his eyes. “OK, Mr. History Professor. Next, you’ll tell me that the wedding involves ritual combat, which is actually sweet because ancient Spartans used to do it.”

“I don’t think there’s any violence involved in modern Vulcan weddings, though he mentioned they used to fight for their mates in pre-Surakian times,” Jim responded. “It’s just as well. I’m the best man and I’d rather not get in any fights to the death.”

Come the day, Spock asked both Dr. McCoy and Captain Kirk to beam down and stand up with him. Consequently, all three of them met the bride at the same time. She was strikingly lovely, even in her gravid state. Kirk found himself momentarily jealous.

The ceremony was tedious, with bells being shaken and gongs being hit and stilted call-and-response vows exchanged.

Afterwards, as the captain and ship’s surgeon congratulated the couple, T’Mid boldly shook their hands and declared, “It is fortunate that you are here. The hasty nature of this wedding left me with far too little time to research Spock’s human side. Tell me, what role do the groom’s friends play in a traditional Terran wedding?”

“It depends on where on Terra you mean,” Jim said, surprised to hear she was interested. He’d gotten the impression that most Vulcans didn’t like to talk about Spock’s human half.

Bones added, “In some circles, it’s customary for the best man to kiss the bride for luck.”

“In that case, shall I kiss you both?” she asked. “Or only the one who’s the best?”

Jim was beginning to see how this woman had hooked up with a black sheep like Sybok. “I’m sure neither of us would kiss the bride without the groom’s permission,” he demurred.

T’Mid turned to Spock and said, “My husband, may I please kiss your friends?” To Jim’s shock, Spock immediately acquiesced, and he found himself locking lips with his first officer’s pregnant wife. He was still at a loss for words when she turned from him and planted one on Leonard McCoy’s lips.

Afterwards, she said, “Illogical though the notion of ‘luck’ may be, you Terrans seem to have some practical traditions around it. The kissing contest allows the bride to gauge which man is the best.” Jim was trying to think of a way to explain she’d gotten this all wrong, when she looked back at her new husband and added, “Spock, now that I’ve evaluated them, would you like to kiss Captain Kirk for luck?”

“Uh, that’s not part of the tradition,” Bones said quickly.

“Oh, but I’m sure my husband would appreciate it anyway,” T’Mid insisted. “Isn’t that right, Spock?”

“I have no doubt it would be pleasant,” Spock said evenly. “In all my interactions with the captain’s past partners, none have ever complained of his skill.” Jim could hardly believe his ears.

The same ears turned red when T’Mid followed up with, “Oh really? Does Kirk’s positive reputation extend to more intimate activities?” At which point, Bones said something about needing to get back to work and called for beam-out.

Coward, Jim thought.

Spock and T’Mid, meanwhile, switched to Vulkansu to have an intense conversation in low tones. Although Jim’s grasp on the language was just OK by academic standards, he’d spent long enough with a communications officer and a science officer chatting over his head to be conversant. Consequently, he was able to grasp the gist of their comments, which went something like:

• Spock asked if T’Mid was serious.
• T’Mid said yes, and defended herself with, “Attraction to him is something we have in common, husband, of which the list is quite short.”
• Spock suggested that consummating a marriage in a threesome was inappropriate and contrary to tradition and quite possibly illegal on some worlds (though Jim noted with interest that he didn’t deny the attraction).
• T’Mid shut Spock up with a firm, “You barely know me and you only married me because your wayward brother knocked me up. You need to be with someone you actually trust and care about, this close to your time.”

At that point, Jim blurted out, “Time for what?” And was rewarded with two Vulcans glaring at him. “Hey now, it’s not eavesdropping if you actually have the conversation in front of me,” he said defensively.

T’Mid ignored that and said, “It’s time to consummate this marriage, but I sense that Spock doesn’t enjoy mating with strangers. I thought he might like to have you join us to, as you Terrans say, ‘break the ice.’ Since I find you attractive, your presence would benefit us both.”

Well, Jim couldn’t argue with that logic. Go with the bride and groom to consummate their marriage wasn’t on any best-man to-do list Jim had ever seen. Still, he’d resolved long ago never to let Spock down or refuse him any reasonable request.

Maybe he’d have to strike “reasonable” from that sentence after how the wedding night went.

When T’Mid, Sybok, and Spock’s baby was born two months later, he wasn’t surprised at all to be named little Zarak’s godfather. He wasn’t even offended by Bones’ comment “this is the first time a godfather earned that title on his back.”

He simply said, “It wasn’t my back I got on,” and enjoyed Bones’ scowl.

Chapter Text

Earth, 2268

David Wallace was turning six, and Jim Kirk was carrying a gigantic cake. After spending the morning on setting up the Wallace backyard for a party, he’d been sent to Winona’s house a block away to retrieve said cake. As his mother said, “I can’t carry it and Maggie, so you’ll have to help.”

When he had the cake safely stowed in the Wallace household stasis unit, he made his way to the yard, where some guests had already arrived. Carol was chatting with a shorter brunette woman, whom she introduced as Dayana, Cody’s mother. Cody, presumably, being the little boy currently racing David to the bounce castle.

Dayana’s eyes went wide and she said, “You’re Captain James T. Kirk!”

There were very few ways to respond to such a declaration. After a beat, Jim cleared his throat and said, “Well, just ‘Jim’ is enough for a casual party like this, but yes. I’m a Starfleet captain.”

“You’re the Starfleet captain. Carol, you never told me you knew somebody this famous!” Dayana exclaimed.

Carol laughed nervously and pointed out, “Oh, Dayana, I mentioned Jim to you just last night, when I texted that we were having difficulties inflating the party balloons.”

“Sure, but you called him ‘my old friend from my Starfleet days.’ You didn’t say he was the man who’s saved Earth, twice!” Dayana protested.

Jim found the starstruck reaction both amusing and disconcerting. “I suppose my skills as a balloon-inflater were closer to the top of Carol’s mind, last night.”

“Good point,” Dayana admitted. “Why did you get stuck with the balloons, anyway? Oh wait – is David one of your famous godchildren?”

Jim marveled, journalists on the Starfleet beat will write a story about literally anything in my life. Now even my godchildren are famous. “Uh, no…” he began.

At the same moment, Carol said, “No, Jim is David’s father.”

If he’d thought Dayana was starstruck and nosy before, it was nothing compared to her reaction now. She was demanding to know when, where, why, and how Jim and Carol had a baby together. Carol took the lead in explaining the short version of those answers: 6.75 years ago, on the Enterprise, because they were dating, they made him the old-fashioned way. She reached out and took Jim’s hand as she spoke, as if to say, see? This is perfectly normal.

Dayana spluttered, “You mean…Jim was your commanding officer when it happened?” And this was followed by her giving Jim a judgmental look that clearly said, if you abused your authority, it will completely outweigh saving Earth twice, in my book.

“Technically, but to be fair, I was never one of his direct reports, and I had already decided to resign and come back to Earth. Besides which, a single woman in Starfleet can’t aim much higher than her captain, dating-wise,” Carol joked.

Jim followed up with, “And there was only one Carol on Enterprise, so I didn’t have much choice in falling for her.”

“And on top of that, life on a starship comes in two flavors: ‘I’m bored’ and ‘I’m terrified.’ When the infamous Talosians get serious about breeding humans in captivity, they should find a way to combine those two moods,” Carol opined with a casual shrug. “Jim and I went through so many terror-and-boredom cycles together that it would’ve been odd if we didn’t hook up.”

“So, we got together, made a few good memories, and now we have a son,” Jim added.

“Then when I got back to Earth his mother bought a house in the same neighborhood as me, just to be close enough to help out,” Carol went on. “Now that she’s got little Maggie to keep her busy, I’m returning the favor.”

“And Maggie is one of those godchildren you mentioned.”

Dayana looked at them both, her eyebrows raised, for another long moment. Then she burst out laughing. “Carol, you sneaky thing, you should’ve told me years ago that you’d dated a celebrity. I’m so envious! Congratulations on your son’s sixth birthday, you two. We got anything to drink around here?”

Jim gave Carol’s hand a squeeze and went to find Dayana a beer. Across the yard, David, Cody, and a few other young guests were boosting Maggie into the bounce castle, and Winona called out, “Be gentle with her in there!” A chorus of we will’s rang out, and Jim thought it was the sweetest thing he’d ever heard.