Jim held up the sonogram for Spock to see. “There you are. Proof positive.”

Spock let out a long breath. “What do you intend to do?”

He shook his head. “I’ll have to talk to Komack.”

“Komack?” The doctor standing near them repeated. “Is that the father?

Jim and Spock turned as one to stare at the doctor.

“What? Komack? Admiral Komack?”

The doctor shrugged.

Jim snorted. “Definitely not Komack. I mean there was that one time, but that was a long time ago—”

“Jim.”

He cleared his throat. “Sorry.” He glared at the doctor. “Spock’s the father. Or actually I am. I’m nobody’s mother.”

This time the doctor smirked. “If you say so. By my calculations she’s going to be born right around the end of July. Christmas in July. Quite the present.” The doctor chortled and seemed to ignore the side-eye look Jim aimed his way.

“She?” Spock repeated. “Then the infant will be a girl?”

“She’s already a girl, yes. You’re four months along, Captain. You can finish up here and meet my nurse outside for instructions and to make your next appointment.” He eyed them both. “Congratulations.”

After the doctor left, Jim grimaced. “There goes my Starfleet career.”

“You may be able to work at HQ. But likely your starship career will be impacted.” Spock paused. “As will mine. You won’t be doing this alone, Jim.”

“I knew when that alien fucked with me all those years ago something like this would be the result.”

“All will be well,” Spock promised.

“You aren’t the guy who’s pregnant.” Jim sighed and pulled his shirt on and rose from the examination bed. “A Christmas in July baby? What’s that about?’

“I have no idea.”

“Does that mean we gotta name her Holly?”

Spock’s lips twitched. “I would not object if we named her Amanda.”

Jim’s frown slipped away and he smiled. “After your mama.”

“Indeed.”

“Then that’s definitely her name.” Jim kissed Spock. “Amanda, our little girl. Come on. Let’s get out of here.”