Valentine's prompt: Sarek drunk on chocolate, comming Jim to ask when he's getting grandbabies. Spock is mortified.
“Oh, incoming. It’s your in-law.” Bones tossed Jim his comm and settled back into the couch.
“You love calling Sarek that, don’t you?” Jim stared down at the comm that was indeed displaying an incoming request from his father-in-law.
“If anyone deserved in-laws, James T. Kirk, it’s you.”
“Sarek loves me.” Jim made a face and debated on answering it and interrupting his time with Bones–who probably wouldn’t care now that he was two glasses in–or paying for it later after a strongly worded note landed in Spock’s inbox.
Bones hid his snort in his glass and took another healthy drink. Scotty had once again procured the best of the best from his recent shoreleave.
“Babe! Did we miss a birthday?” Jim called, hopping up from his very comfortable chair where he was planning on spending most of the evening beating Bones in Retro Trivia while drunk off his ass until Spock pulled him into bed and saw Bones safely down the hallway to his own quarters. It was a good plan.
“No?” Came his bondmate’s response. Jim could almost hear the raised eyebrow.
“Your dad is calling me. Your dad only calls me to yell at me.”
“You said he loved you!” Bones shot back.
“Tolerating is basically love in Vulcan, Bones. Shut up.”
Spock appeared at his side, staring down at Jim with the beginnings of disapproval etched into every crease of his gorgeous forehead. Jim blew out his breath and answered.
“Sarek! Everything alright?”
“No, Jim. It is most definitely not alright.”
Spock leaned over so to speak directly into the comm’s tiny speaker–an unecessary gesture but one Jim understood for the urgency of it. “Father? What is wrong?”
“Everything, my son.” There was an awful silence and Jim was ready to hit red alert and head to New Vulcan right away. “You and your mate have not given me a grandbaby.”
“I’m sorry, Sarek. Did you say, grandbaby?”
GRANDBABY? Bones mouthed.
“Yes, Jim. I want grandchildren. You and my son should, as you Terrans say, get to it.”
Bones snorted again, a wild sound and then promptly fell over in a fit of barely contained guffaws.
“I did not know he was that trashed.” Jim said when Spock glared at him and then he took the comm, stepping back from Jim and the chair and Bones and his choking laugh snorts.
“Father, are you inebriated?” Spock
“Oh, shit.” Jim sat up and was happy to report that the room did not spin but his husband did reach out a hand to steady him anyway and that was definitely true love, right there.
“There was a memorial for one of the elders and he requested that we celebrate with a chocolate fondue service.”
Jim sifted through what Sarek just said and decided the most important part was, he reached over and hit the mute button so fast. “Spock. Love of my life. There’s a chocolate fondue service on New Vulcan and you didn’t tell me?”
“It is an emotional ceremony that many do not choose to partake in.”
“If I die, I want that. Okay? Chocolate fondue for all.”
Spock glared harder. Yes, it was a thing, to glare harder.
“Jim, I think you should name her Amanda. I imagine that she’ll have my wife’s eyes. Beautiful eyes. Spock’s eyes. I would love to see those again in my granddaughter.”
“Whoa, whoa, if we were to have grandchildren, we would adopt. Plenty of kids out there that need homes.”
“Noble, but unnecessary for your first child. There are Vulcan…traditions that must be upheld. Plot a course for New Vulcan at once and we will discuss.”
“Father!” Spock’s freckles were turning green.
Bones, who had uprighted himself and now was kneeling by the couch, groaned and muttered about enough talk about Vulcan tradition.
“Sarek, we can’t just ditch our mission for Vulcan talk making babies.”
Spock reached out for Jim’s hand and he felt and heard his husband beg for Jim to just quit talking.
“This cannot wait. There is such thing as a biological clock, Jim.”
“Oh god, I’ve heard enough.” Bones too, looked like he was about to turn green and managed to get to his feet and only sway a bit in the process.
“Sarek, we’re both men–you know that, right? Biological children, while great, might not fully happen. We don’t even know if, well, if we’re compatible with a donor or surrogate–”
“It’s been handled, Jim. Just get here. I want grandbabies. Now.” And then the comm. went dead.
Jim tossed the comm back to Spock, who looked like he might fall into the chair Jim had been forced to vacate. “Wanna tell me what that’s about?”
“Not while I’m here, you don’t!” Bones took the bottle of Scotty’s brew and saluted, somehow managing to make it to the door and out before Jim could beg him to stay and be a buffer.
Spock pressed his fingertips into his forehead. “I need a drink.”
“We have some actual hot chocolate.”
Jim grinned and plopped a messy kiss on Spock’s forehead. “He’ll apologize in the morning.”
“No, he’ll just ask us in a way that is more to his character, most likely with an ultimatum or two.”
Jim considered this. “Could be fun?”
“T’hy’la, only you could find a positive to this.’
“You’ll show me what he meant after the hot chocolate, though, right?”
Spock threw the comm at him.
