Five Minute Ficlet (desktop version!)
I have approximately 10 minutes until I need to pick up my kid from basketball practice and go for a run. So let’s see what I can muster while I wait for @outside-the-government to come up with her prize fic req.
A lone woman rushed up to you in the crowded market and thrust a ragged bundle into your arms. Her eyes, filled with tears met yours. “She is better with Starfleet.” Before you could stop her and question her, she disappeared into the crowd. There, in your arms, was the most precious thing anyone had ever given you. A human baby. The colony was overpopulated, and the Enterprise had been sent to assess the situation. What you’d found, when you beamed planetside, was mass starvation, worse than anything Starfleet had recorded since Tarsus IV. Jim had paled when he saw the squalor and emaciated faces in the colony, and Bones had sent him back to the ship immediately.
The baby was quiet. Lethargic. Barely moving. In the ragged bundle, you could only guess at gender. You found Bones, passing out rations and triaging the sick and malnourished. “You need to beam me back,” you demanded, showing him the wee thing. He blanched and nodded.
“Head to the muster point, I’ll let Scotty know to expect you,” he nodded. You excused yourself and your tiny charge and headed to the area where rations and medication were being guarded.
Once aboard the Enterprise, you immediately carried the baby down to MedBay and worked on her, seeing to hydration and nourishment. She ate greedily, and after the fluid and electrolytes were on board, she started to kick and squirm. From your basic assessment, you thought she might be six months, but given her malnourishment she could be closer to nine months. And with every moment, she was more and more alert, grasping your fingers and cooing.
News of the babe spread across the ship quickly. Unsurprisingly, Sulu was the first to visit. He brought a tiny sleeper with him, quickly explaining it had been Demora’s, and he brought it on every mission. You didn’t want to accept his momento, but he insisted. You fashioned a diaper out of abdominal pads and cling gauze and dressed her, covering her little head with some stockingette intended to hold dressings in place. She was a beautiful little angel, but you had no idea what to do with her.
You were rocking her, quietly singing the lullaby your mother had sung you, trying to soothe her cries, when Jim stepped into MedBay, and came straight to you. He gently lifted the little girl into his arms and began to rock her, the act completely natural. He held her up to his chest, his rich baritone mimicking the song you’d been singing and patted her back to the rhythm of the song.
And then stopped and made a face.
“Y/N, can you check my back?” He asked. “I have a feeling I’ve ruined another uniform.”
Sure enough, when you peeked around behind you, the little girl was finally peaceful, and there was a large stream of baby puke running down Jim’s back.