Happy Birthday Jamie!

The past…

Jim rested his hand on the round bump of his stomach. Swallowing down the bile that rose to his throat, he sat down heavily in the chair in their home…his home…on New Vulcan.

“Has passed away after a sudden illness.”

He said the words out loud three times before they did anything but sit on his tongue.

It could not be. How was he to do this? Raise a child he had never been sure if he could handle with Spock and now…

(The Present) Six years later…


“Hmm?” Jim leaned up to reach into the cabinet for the colander to drain the spaghetti he was making for them.

“There is a Vulcan at the door.”

Jim frowned and dropped down flat on his feet, colander momentarily forgotten. He turned to stare at his son, mussy dark hair, bright blue eyes and pointy ears.


George sighed. “Didn’t you hear the doorbell?”

“No.” Jim turned off the heat under the boiling spaghetti. “Who is it?”

“A Vulcan.”

“Did he say his name?”

His son nodded. “He said to tell you that his name is Spock and that you once served on the Enterprise together.” George frowned. “He looks a little like those pictures you showed me of Sa-mekh. Younger.”

“Oh.” Jim swallowed and set the wooden spoon on the counter and walked out of the kitchen. Sure enough standing in the front hallway of their house in San Francisco stood his former first officer, Commander Spock. “Hey, Spock.”

Spock tilted his head. “Jim.”

George came close to Jim, so Jim put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Um. This is my son with um…”

“Yes. I surmised. He resembles you.” Spock paused. “And him.”

“Would you, um, like to stay for dinner?”

“We’re having spaghetti with mushroom marinara,” George said, eyeing Spock curiously.

“That does sound appealing.”

“And garlic bread.”

Jim smiled. “Yes. Is Uhura with you?”

Spock shook his head. “We are…no longer together.”

“I’m sorry.” He exhaled quietly. “Everything all right?”

“Yes, Jim.” Spock paused again. “I…wished to see you. I hope that is okay.”

Jim smiled. “Does that mean you’re staying for dinner?”

Spock nodded. “It does. Thank you.”

George stepped forward. “Want to see my toy starship?”

Spock bent down to look at the model George offered him. “I would, indeed.”

“I’d better put extra garlic bread on,” Jim announced. “George eats a lot.”