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This is an answer to a prompt by whiteraven1606’s Star Trek (2009) Kink Meme prompt:

“George didn't die with the Kelvin Winona did. Jim was born a day or two prior and it was him and George on the shuttle. George goes to Amanda (old flame, knew from school, idk) and stays with her family. Amanda and George are attracted to each other and Sarek likes it.

Sarek/Amanda/George threesome raising Jim and Spock.”

(original prompt located at: http://community.livejournal.com/st_xi_kink_meme/13264.html?thread=12127952#t12127952 )

Or rather, this is part one (of possibly like 10+ parts). Also, this is unbetad so all mistakes are me and feel free to point them out…I will attempt to fix them (although I am weird and may have intentionally left something that way…I will let you know in a reply comment if that happens). Also feel free to point out anything you think is awkward or could be better (sentence and grammar wise. I don’t think anything can fix the idea XD).

SO, details:

Title: George is alive! (As you can see, the title is also a work in progress. This is kind of a chapter title so at the end/completion of the fic, I may go back and fix the titles).
Author: t_l_p_d
Genre: …all of them?
Rating: Eventually M/NC-17 but for now … Pg or Pg-13 -ish
Summary: Response to Whiteraven1606’s really awesome prompt! (Or as described above)
Status: WIP
Warnings: Cursing/profanity, mpreg, slash, threesome, alive!George, notnice!Winona, OC’s (mostly there as filler characters, none are REALLY important), others to be determined

p.s. I totally wanted to put ‘IDK my BFF Jim?’ as the title but it doesn’t really fit so…

p.p.s. I am fudging some facts here (about shifts and things) as I am mainly a Next Generation fan and not an Original Series fan so if something is glaringly wrong, or just generally annoys you, feel free to point it out. I may comment nicely back at you and change or not change the fic but let’s wait until that is a problem before we may problems, yes?

p.p.p.s. also fudging military time. Again, correcting is nice :) And the mpreg but IDK if anyone can correct me on that yet.

p.p.p.p.s. I totally put my iPod on shuffle as I was typing this and “A Thousand Words” by Savage Garden came on (it totally fits, wait ‘til you read the chapter … and possibly the next chapter).

p.p.p.p.p.s. (one too many pppppps) There are at least two references to other fandoms (on is kind of a reference to two fandoms at once). First person (or any person) to spot them gets a cookie).

George woke sweaty and sore. Upon waking, the first thing he did was reach for his wife…who was not in bed. Instead, there was a long since cooled spot and empty blankets (Winona was such a blanket hog even if she would deny it to her dying day). He sighed, he kept telling Winona that he wanted her to wake him up so that he could say good morning. She, however, refused to wake him up and had in fact turned off his alarm whenever he tried to set it so that he could wake up on his own.

“Computer,” George sat up and rubbed his eyes, “What time is it?”

“It is currently 0632 hours.”

That’s right. Winona had the early bird shift (she claimed to like the quiet). George’s shift did not start until 1000 hours. Just enough time to clean up, shower, eat, and get to his position.

George padded, naked, to the shower stall. He grimaced at the feel of lube slip-sliding on his insides. He hated when Winona decided to ‘play’ (as she called it, he called it fun until she got too rough and left him wondering why he didn’t have a safe word). She never cleaned him up after, even though that was supposed to be a condition of ‘playing’. Winona claimed it ruined the afterglow. She always loved to see him dirty.

Turning on the shower, he limped into blissful heat. Another argument between Winona and himself: George loved the heat while Winona loved the cold. Changing the thermostat had been a fun game until Winona had bribed a service man to set it to her specifications and no other (personally George thought that was cheating but Winona claimed it was thinking outside the box).

Slipping a finger over his entrance, George discovered the damage (meaning he hissed in pain because his ass hurt like a bitch). Even though Winona lacked certain parts, she still managed to fulfill the ‘male’ role of being too rough (only instead of using her dick, she used a didlo).

George dried off and reached for the Tolan crème Dr. Z had prescribed (thank god for doctor-patient privilege, George had about died of embarrassment when Winona dragged him in for a consult). The crème was fast acting and would mean that he could walk without a limp (George thought that was always helpful).


“George! How are you this fine morning? I saved you some coffee!” Ben, a rather large man, was as gentle as could be and as great a chef as could be. He also loved coffee. A lot. Ben was one of George’s friends from the Academy (they had pranked their poly-sci professor into thinking that his hair was on fire…it had been dyed red, orange, and yellow). Ben brandished the coffee mug like it was his favorite weapon to go into battle with (it was possible that Ben could win a battle with coffee; he could do a whole host of things with coffee including fix a TV and cure the a mysterious case of the sneezes, hacks, and other aggravating symptoms a.k.a the common cold). (All these coffee uses made George think that Ben needed a new hobby and to cut back on his caffeine intake).

George’s smile at the coffee lasted until he got a whiff. Then his stomach turned on its side and tried to climb out his esophagus. He passed the coffee back to Ben, “Thanks but I’ve been meaning to cut back”.

Ben peered at George, “You feelin’ ok buddy? Coffee is the food of the gods. It should be treated with respect not with a concern for that caffeine nonsense. Oh, well. I’ll drink this then. It’ll be such a hardship,” the last was said with a grin.


Throughout the next couple of days, George alternated between a fun game called ‘What Makes George Want to Throw Up’ and another fun game called ‘What is George Suddenly Really Hungry For and Where Can He Get It’. It was becoming a problem. George thought even Captain Robau has noticed! (As George was second-in-command, this was not as hard as you might think).

As much as George wanted to think it was nothing, the desire for cucumber ice cream and the sudden rash of puking every morning for two weeks convinced him that he needed to go see a doctor. Worse even, he had to go see Henry.


Dr. Henry Smith was a young man who had graduated at the top of his class three years before George had. He had also married and divorced four times (and according to ship gossip, he was working on a fifth). In addition to these amazing feats, Dr. Smith had also grown up next door to a blonde haired boy named George Kirk.

“George! Good to see you! What brings you to my MedBay corner of the U.S.S Kelvin?” Henry’s demeanor changed, “Are you ill? Are you dying? Is it your head? Your stomach? Your balls? C’mon, man, talk to me!”

George was laughing so hard he had to sit down. “Aw, man. You know I’m just worried. Your mom would kill me if I let anything happen to you.” Henry’s words sobered George up (his mom really was scary).

“Yes. No. No. Maybe. No. In that order. Also, certain foods have made me nauseas and I have really wanted others. And I’ve been throwing up every morning for the past two weeks,” it came out in a rush.

Henry buckled down and patted George on the back, “Ok. I’m going to run some tests. We’ll see what the results say. The important thing for you to do is to relax. I’m gonna run a urine test, a boatload of blood tests, and whatever else the nurses and I can come up with.”


A week and numerous tests later, George and Henry were in Henry’s office.

“George,” Henry sighed, “sit down.”

Alarmed, George sat up straight, “Henry, what’s wrong with me? Am I dying? It is a tumor? A malignant growth?”

“All sorts of things are wrong with you my friend,” Henry grinned but quickly sobered, “We, however, are only discussing one of those things in particular which is the thing that is making you sick.”

“Henry, spit it out”

“George, you’re having cravings…”


“Morning sickness…”


“Sweet Jesus George, you’re pregnant!”

George paused, “Huh. Did not expect that one,” he grinned, “That means Winona knocked me up!” George paused again and sighed, “Damn it, I told Winona if she wanted those kinds of games she had to take precaution because that stupid geneticist mutated the whole freaking planet and now she’s gone and been lazy and knocked me the hell up!”


“What do you mean you’re pregnant?” Winona screeched, “I knew it. I knew it. You’ve been cheating. Well, don’t come crying to me when your rat bastard of a lover leaves you.” Without letting George speak, Winona stomps to the door, “I want a divorce!” and she slams the door.

“Wow, little one,” George says looking at his not-as-yet showing belly, “I didn’t know that you could slam the doors of the Kelvin. That definitely did not go as planned.”


By dinner, Winona had spread that George had cheated on her and was pregnant (by Christopher Pike of all people, George hadn’t seen his mentoree since they were last on Earth – about a year ago when he and Winona had left Sam with George’s parents so that Sam could start preschool with his age group).

By dessert, Ben and Henry had straightened out half the ship and George had told the truth to the other half. There were a few who still believed Winona but a paternity test would be able to safely be performed in the second trimester. Then, everything would be ok – or so George hoped.


Captain Robau had been surprisingly supportive (turns out he had been carried in a male womb and was considering having a baby with his partner - after this term of course). He let George stay on duty until medical needs forced him on bed rest (so in his third trimester when he was as big as a house). George could resume his duties when the baby was an as-yet-to-be-determined age (after all both George and Winona had done it with Sam, this little one would be no different – although Winona hadn’t stopped talking to him when she was pregnant).


The baby was a genetic match to George and Winona.


Winona was still not talking to him.


TBC… (hopefully either this weekend or at least by next Thursday – that’s my official mental deadline but if I get done earlier, I’ll post).
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