mememaster | BABIES

"She does seem pretty enamored with this guy." He shifts her to his other hip, and his reward is getting the cow banged against his other shoulder. "...and figured out its use as a weapon pretty fast."

Jim watches them both for a moment--hey, that balancing-the-kid trick is cool, on his hip, he'll have to remember that--and then he pulls out his communicator. A few moments are taken up with typing out a message on it, and then he engages the audio function.

"Kirk to Uhura."

"Go ahead, Captain."

"Uhura, I'm going to send you a text communication when I end this comm. Please forward it to Winona Kirk, on Earth. Use my personal transponder code."

"Right away, Captain."

"Thanks. Kirk out."

He puts the communicator away, a small smile tugging at his lips. "There. I've asked my mother to check around for more cows, and to forward them to me when she can."

"Great. We'll have a stockpile of adorable squeaky cows. Hope no alien ambassadors come poking around in our Adorable Squeaky Cow Storage Area." Reaching the medbay, the door whooshes open and he leads the way, parting the sea of whispers as deftly as though he's Moses and the baby with the cow is his big stick. "Nurse Chapel," he calls over his shoulder, "find the stockpile of diapers for me. They should be in Cabinet 3A. Thank you."

"Right away, doctor."

Slowly, the activity of medbay resumes, letting Jim, McCoy, and the baby make it back to one of the tables in relative peace.

Jim follows them to the table, trying not to hover (and not entirely succeeding at it). He's so engrossed with the baby that Nurse Chapel's appearance at his elbow seems sudden, out of nowhere. He nearly jumps when she sets a pile of diapers on the corner of the table, saying, "Here you are, Doctor."

He glances at her to see if she realized he was startled, but if she did, professional as she is, she doesn't let on. She gives him a brief, faint smile before turning her attention to the little girl in McCoy's arms. But even then, it's merely a long moment of doting and admiration before she steps away, returning to her duties.

"Thank you, Nurse," McCoy says, then gestures to Jim, pointing vaguely to the diapers as he sets the baby down on the biobed. "Grab one of those for me."

Jim does so, and is halfway toward handing it over when he stops, and withdraws his hand. It dawns on him that McCoy's probably not ready yet.

"So I understand the general principle but I've never seen it done."

As he talks, McCoy searches for acceptable substitutes for baby powder and wipes, while the baby discovers the wonderful world of whacking her cow against the side of the biobed.

"It's pretty easy in theory. Lift 'em up, wipe, powder, swap out the diaper, secure, done. But then, that's in theory; doesn't really take into account all the wiggling they do."

"I didn't know there was powder involved."

He's addressing his CMO but McCoy can be forgiven if that's not evident at first, the way Jim's gaze is focused on the little girl, the cow being beaten against the biobed. It's almost automatic now, the way he reaches for her tiny hand when she's not being held, holding it until she grasps a finger in her fist.

Leonard glances up as he surfaces, holding an acceptable substitute for wipes, and there's that momentary softening at the corners of his eyes again as he watches Jim interact with the baby. He sees how her hand tightens around his finger, how she beams that toothless smile at him, and for a wild moment, he wonders if maybe Starfleet would let them keep the baby after all.

But a starship is no place for a baby, and he sets the wipes down before going to a cabinet.

"Yeah, it's to keep her from getting a rash. A baby with a rash is not a pleasant thing to spend time with."

"No rashes. I got it."

He smiles at the baby again, and then it dawns on him he really ought to pay attention to what McCoy is doing. ~~He's not ever going to convince anyone he can raise a baby if he has to constantly ask for help--~~ what Bones will never let him live it down if he screws up because he wasn't paying attention.

Yeah.

"Okay, so how do I start?"

"Like this." After locating acceptable wipes, McCoy returns to the little girl and, cooing at her, undoes the sides of her diaper and lifts her gently to slide the nasty surprise out from under her. Though he pulls a face at the smell of what's in the diaper, his movements are efficient, and he explains each step to Jim as he goes through it.

He looks over at the captain as he fastens the sides on the clean diaper. "Got it?"

McCoy pulls a face, but Jim actually recoils slightly, surprised. He makes a quick recovery, and is attentive for the rest of the process.

"Yeah. I can do this. Thanks."

"Happy to help." Once it's done, he scoops the little girl up in his arms, getting the cow hit against his mouth in response. "I take it you're feeling better then, huh, h - "

'Honey' sticks in his throat, and he swallows it back.

" - kiddo?"

...Huh, that was weird, did Bones stutter or something? Maybe the kid hitting him in the mouth with that cow just made it sound like he was about to say something else.

"I bet she does. Okay, so what now?"

McCoy shrugs. "What's the progress on your cabin? We might be able to take her back there."

"Let me find out."

He goes over to the speaker set in the wall, having a brief consultation with his chief engineer.

"Scotty says they're just about done. Amazing. Shall we?"

"Perfect timing." Tilting his head away from the cow still being persistently hit against his mouth and cheek, he glances at Jim. "Lead on."

Jim leads them to the turbolift, which seems to be the only thing that the baby likes as much as the cow; once again she leans over, reaching for the handholds or anything else she can get a hand on.

"No, sweetheart, that's not for you," Jim says, gently taking her little hand in his.

Leonard tries not to let his heart beat too fast at the sight of Jim holding that tiny hand in his, because frankly, it's adorable, and he doesn't know what to do with it.

"Think that's the first time you've ever told someone to not stick their fingers where they don't belong," he snarks instead.

"That's the first time I ever met anybody whose fingers were so small," Jim shoots back. "When she's grown she can put her fingers where she damn well pleases but until then..."

If he were actually thinking about this very much he might be surprised at how easily he falls into this nurturing role.

They reach his deck and Jim leads them out. "You want to inspect the setup to make sure it's safe, once we get there?"

"'Course I do." McCoy frowns, ducking away from the cow again. "I'm sure Scotty knows how to childproof something in theory, but he's too much of an overgrown kid himself to not put some flashes and bangs in any setup."

They arrive at Jim's quarters, and sure enough, the crib seems rather elaborate for what Jim would've expected. (It's not a hazard, is actually reasonably well childproofed, it's just very much a Scotty creation.)

Scotty divides his time between explaining all the features of this rigged-up crib and fussing over the wee bonnie lass; Jim can't help but be amused.

The crib gets McCoy's grudging approval, once he makes sure that nothing can be easily pried off and shoved in her mouth or nose, that the bars can't go down and that she can't stick her head through the bars. It certainly gets the baby's approval - once he sets her in it, she laughs in delight and hits the cow against the bars.

And for a few moments, three of the senior officers of the Federation's flagship stand around a hastily-created crib, smiling down at a tiny girl.

Scotty takes his leave, and Jim lingers by the crib, leaning on the side and watching the baby play with the stuffed cow.

"What do I do about getting her to sleep? Will she just do it by herself when she needs to?"

"She will, but you also may need to help her along if she's fussy or if she wakes up in the middle of the night. It's different for everyone, but." He hesitates for a moment, then barrels on. It's not like he hasn't mentioned his daughter to Jim before, but this feels different. This is picking at a scab that still hasn't healed over completely. "Jo liked having her back rubbed, or being carried around. Car rides, too, but that's a little more difficult out here."

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