By Aquarius

Rating: PG-13

Genres: challenge humour

Keywords: Baby Elizabeth Tucker birth bond challenge

This story has been read by 960 people.
This story has been read 1463 times.

DISCLAIMER:  CBS/Paramount owns Enterprise and its characters.  No money was made from the production or sharing of this piece.

A/N:  This is my response to the May 2009 Word Prompt challenge, "Panic".  It's a prequel to "Anticipation".

"Let's get started, shall we?"

Even after all these years, Phlox's big, goofy-assed grin is distracting, almost to the point where I don't hear his words.

Still, I gotta admit, his enthusiasm is infectious. I don't have to look beside me to see that T'Pol is excited, too. Once we got the bond thing sorted out, we talked about having children someday. We were both anxious and more than a little scared about the idea, especially after what happened with Elizabeth, but Phlox said back then that with a little more work, it should be no problem: humans and Vulcans should be able to have children together.

So here we are in his office, finally getting the green light.

I rub my hands together. "Great, Doc! So what's first? T'Pol takes a bunch of pills or something?"

Phlox's already impossibly wide smile gets bigger. "Not exactly, Mr. Tucker."

There's the unmistakable sound of plastic sliding against wood as Phlox pushes the specimen cup in my general direction. T'Pol's eyebrow is mocking me for running my mouth, but I know she really thinks it's funny.

That's okay. I'll get her back for that later.

Everyone's expecting me to get all bashful, but I'm cool. "No problem," I say, snatching up the cup. "You got a room for us here? Or should we just bring this back later?" Yeah, I know, but I figure what the hell, it can't hurt to ask, right?

Phlox has apparently learned when to ignore me, even though T'Pol's eyebrow is steadily climbing. "We'll be taking T'Pol to the procedure room for the egg harvesting. You'll find an assortment of magazines and videos behind the second door to the right." He nods toward the cup in my hand. "You can give that to the nurse and wait here when you're finished."

"Fine." I sneak a glance back at my wife and lower my voice even though I know perfectly well she can hear me. "Say, wouldn't happen to have any Vulcan porn back there, would ya? These Earth girls just don't get it for me any more."

T'Pol shoots me the look, the one that most people think means I'm not just in the dog house, I'm goin' all the way to the pound if I keep it up. But I know she's just playing with me.


"I'm sure you'll make do, Mister Tucker," Phlox says, motioning me toward the door.

I brush my two fingers against T'Pol's as a quick goodbye before we part. "See ya on the other side, hon."

So I make my way down the hall, where I find a comfortably dim room with a couch and a recliner. As promised, there were all kinds of magazines scattered about the room's table and a video console, pre-loaded with titles ranging from the intriguing to the ridiculous.

I can't help but laugh. "Debbie Does Denobula, huh?" This stuff was alright when I was single, but now...? Gotta tell ya, after living through a pon farr, most of this crap seems like ameteur hour to me.

I decide to forego the porn and just settle into the recliner and meditate for a moment before I unzip, hoping that if I'm relaxed enough I can find my wife out there in the ether somewhere.

The faint light from the table lamp reflects off the plastic of the specimen cup and I pick it up. For the moment it's empty, but...

Out of nowhere, some giant fist reaches out and squeezes my heart and my stomach as it occurs to me:

I'm gonna fill this thing up, and...

...T'Pol and I are gonna be parents. I'm gonna be somebody's father!

Deep breath, Trip, I tell myself, trying not to panic, but it's too late. Reality is already setting in. If this works, we're gonna be responsible for another tiny little life, and that's a big deal.

Gotta put it out of my mind.

That porn is starting to look pretty good now.




This is my response to the May 2009 Word Prompt challenge, "Panic".  It's a prequel to "Anticipation".

And this is nearly as nice as "Anticipation".:p


Loved this one!  Been down the infertility road myself and somehow you managed to capture the embarassment, hopefulness, etc. just right.  Trip is very, well..."Trip-like," in his approach.


Laughed twice.  Once at "all the way to the pound", which I will file away to use on my husband.  And a second time with "Debbie does Denobula".  "Debbie" has got to be quite an athletic gal, I think.


Awwhhh! You managed to make it so wholesome and heartwarming, a neat trick given the potentially awkward place Trip finds himself. Ah . . . and that wasn't even supposed to be a pun. The panic rings true. I've seen it. I LOVE THIS.


So Archive worthy - just a lovely little story. Glad you posted it.

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