Thorns and thistles Veronica Jane Williams xkhoi@iafrica.com DISCLAIMER The characters are owned by Paramount, I have borrowed them for my story; they will be returned. However, I take pride in some of the chacacters I have created, notably Miss Elizabeth Rowena Paris. THORNS AND THISTLES follows in chronological order A MATTER OF TRUST. These stories form my own canon of P/T stories; For instance, in my canon of stories, B'Elanna, even as half Klingon has two hearts (all Kingons have two hearts). However, I will refer to her hearts in the singular. When I wrote THORNS AND THISTLES originally, I wrote it without a prologue. I've reworked the story, which will now have a prologue. I felt the gap betweem A MATTER OF TRUST and this story too big, and narrowed it down a teensy bit. RATING: G DEDICATION: This story is dedicated to the following Elizabeths: My late grandmother Elizabeth Christina Phillips My husband's late grandmother Elizabeth May My late (eldest) sister Jocelyn Elizabeth Hendricks My aunt Elizabeth Cloete My aunt Elizabeth Kriger My (second) cousin -also- Elizabeth Kriger My late aunt and godmother Christina Elizabeth Cloete My younger sister Elizabeth Christina Wass My daughter Caitlin Elizabeth Williams Finally: my favourite character in literature: Miss Elizabeth Bennet in Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice. THORNS AND THISTLES PROLOGUE B'Elanna was sitting on the bed crossed-legged, or she tried to, at least. At eight months pregnant, her belly was swollen, looking huge against her small frame. Moving Elizabeth around was becoming downright cumbersome. But, she rejoiced, it was the best extra weight she has had to carry in her life. Tom was busy rubbing her aching back, at the same time breathing against her neck, the tingling sensation as therapeutic as the way his hands moved, all the way from the neck, splaying his fingers over the shoulder working down to her lower back. "Ahhhh...that feels...so good, Tom. Don't stop. I need your hands on me." Tom kissed the back of her neck, his lips trailing the line of fine hairs in the nape. His hands moved around her, cupping her swollen breasts, then caressing it gently. They have been very tender the last few months. "Just think, B'Elanna, this time next month, a tiny mouth with rosy lips, will have the privelege of suckling on these," and he squeezed the nipples softly. "If you don't stop doing that, Tom, I might just allow *you* to have that privelege now... Come on, Tom... stop it..." "I love you, B'Elanna." "Yeah, I know. I love you too." She could feel his breathing becoming shallow, becoming aroused as he continued caressing her nipples. "Stop that...." But she tilted her head back so that Tom could nuzzle her neck, then turning her head so he could kiss her. "Tom?" "Hmmm?" His hands stilled where they were now caressing her swollen abdomen. "You promise you'll be careful when you leave in the morning?" Tom could hear the concern in her voice. Moving so that he could face her, he started massaging her swollen ankles. "Sweetheart, we've been over this. Don't worry so. Think of little Elizabeth. She'll be with us in about a month." B'Elanna didn't look appeased. "Look, I'll be very careful. Before you know it, the away team will have completed their mission. Then I'll be right here, with you two," and he patted her distended belly. He continued rubbing her ankles, which had begun to bother her in the last two months. Kissing each foot in turn, he rested his head against her stomach. "Hey, Elizabeth, when you make your appearance, you'll be first in line for breastfeeding." He got a playful clout on the head from B'Elanna. He kissed her, her mouth opening under his. God, he thought, she might be eight months pregnant, but her appetite for him seemed to have kicked into overdrive. "I'm too excited," he mumbled against her mouth. "You've always known this will be Elizabeth and not Aren or James or Diego, haven't you?" "Hmmm..." was her response as she started to relax. She lay back against the pillows, on her side. Tom placed the pillows against her back, to make her as comfortable as possible. "Sweetheart, you know of course baby Elizabeth has two hearts, don't you?" "Tom, thank you for stating the obvious. I have been attending my pre-natals you know." He lay facing her, his hands comfortably resting on her belly. "I can't wait to be back. Then to watch you give birth. James Hamilton said it is a miraculous experience. He wouldn't have missed it for the world. Even if Rue cussed him all the time. To watch the head crown, then hear seconds later a baby's cry. I want that, B'Elanna. Very, very much." "Yes, I know. I want you to be there and hold my hand, Tom." She looked at him, then kissed him fervently, not letting go of him. "We've gone through so much, I'd hate for anything to go wrong." "I once watched an old film, I think it was in French. There was this scene in which a farmer assisted in delivering the calf of his prize cow. He told his young nephew: "It is in moments like these, young Gaston, that a man cannot but respect a woman." He paused. "Somehow, when James told me about the birth of young Jamie, I thought of that." "I love you Tom. Now come here and kiss me." "Yes, ma'am." His mouth was warm against her lips, she opened them to let his tongue probe inside. "Hmmm...love that..." "B'Elanna," he murmured, knowing that in seconds she will position herself so he could make love to her, "care to go for a walk? We can go to the greatroom. I added a new pet to the program. A grey Burmese cat. To join the dogs and the ducks. You can name her." "You want Bligh and Nemo to rip the poor thing apart? They're already giving the ducks a hard time. Besides, I walk too slowly anyway," she complained. "You go." "Uh-uh. You need a little excercise," Tom coaxed. "Tom, I get that walking to engineering." "Didn't Doctor take you off duty for the next three months?" He sat bolt upright. "What were you doing there, B'Elanna?" suddenly a bit angry. "It's only very light duty, sweetheart. I don't lift things, in case you're worried. Besides, that's the excerice I get. Tom, I'll die if I don't get to see an EPS conduit!" "You know I would like our children to grow up with pets around them. On Voyager our greatroom menagerie will be the next best thing." "Okay, okay, Paris," she growled. "I'll be damned if I didn't know you have an ulterior motive. I know you want to parade me around like the proud husband and father-to-be that you are. I love you. Let's go. I look like a tent," she grumbled as he insisted on putting on a pair of warm socks for her, then proceeded to slip her shoes on. "Oh, Tom...for heaven's sake!" ***** In her cabin Kathryn Janeway and Chakotay were having some quiet time. He was sitting on the couch, while she lay on it, her head on his lap. Her hair was loose and he ran his fingers through the luxuriant richness of it. She held his other hand tightly in hers, kissing it from time to time in an abstracted manner. "Kathryn." "Yes...?" "I know you're worried. When you start kissing my hand when I have a perfect pair of lips, you are worrying about something. Care to tell me?" He sensed immediately that he was right on the mark. She sat up, and held both his hands in hers. Here in her cabin, there was no command structure at this moment. Her look was the look of the woman who loves him and whom he loves so much. And she was concerned. He embraced her, letting her rest her head against his shoulder. "I'm not normally so negative, Chakotay. I know that as captain, I'm certain about the decisions I make. This time though, I'm not so sure about sending Tom on the mission. And it has nothing to do with his competence. He's the best pilot I have. The best I'll probably ever have. I need him for this mission. But B'Elanna is so near her time." She sighed. "Kathryn, we'll be fine. As long as we're careful. I know there have been some political disturbances on Bora. But we're meeting government officials, and will be kept out of their problems. You know you've made that your precondition for meeting with the Chief Prefect. We are to receive escort till we're out of orbit. You know that." "Some time ago, remember when Tom had that brain tumour? I took B'Elanna back to their quarters. I had the strangest feeling then. A feeling of disquiet. I hope sincerely everything will go according to plan. They've had to overcome so many adversities already." Chakotay cupped her face in his hands, and planted a gentle kiss on her lips. "Thank you Kathryn, for being so concerned about my welfare," he murmured. He was rewarded by her grabbing his armpits, and tickling him there. "That's for making fun of me. You know I'm worried about you." They stayed like that, she nestled in his arms, his lips on her hair. His hand covered hers where it rested against his heart. He closed his eyes, thinking how they are so spiritually in tune. "Kathryn...?" "Hmmm...?" "Let's go to bed." END OF PROLOGUE. ********** THORNS AND THISTLES EIGHT MONTHS LATER... The nursery is bathed in a soft light and everything is quiet now that the children have been collected by their parents. It's only occupant ensconsed in a crib in the alcove of the room, which is adjacent to sickbay. The little one has turned herself comfortably on her stomach, and in a sweetly innocent and endearing gesture, is sucking her thumb. Her long eyelashes form little shadows fluttering over her round and rosy cheeks. Lieutenant Joe Carey looked down at the sleeping form of baby Elizabeth Rowena Paris and for a few seconds he felt the old longing. In these moments he misses his own children, two boys of whom the eldest is now all of twelve years old. They were so small when he had left home to take his commission on Voyager. A two week mission which has left them stranded in the Delta Quadrant for almost six years now. They had been so excited when he left, begging promises from him to bring them souvenirs. He sighed. By now I'm just a hazy memory to them, his eyes suddenly misting over. Of the children on board Voyager, baby Elizabeth is closest to his heart. Looking at her with an indulgent smile, he has to keep himself from picking her up and holding her soft, warm body close to him. She is beloved of every crew member on Voyager, none more so than her parents, Tom and B'Elanna Paris. They had waited long for this wee one whose birth had been difficult, taxing all of Doctor's ingenuity and experience. But, looking at her, it had been worth every inch of his help when Tom himself had lain critically injured on that M-class planet the away team had been visiting at the time. His injuries were so severe that for several minutes there were no lifesigns. He still shudders at the harrowing time they had in sickbay, trying to comfort B'Elanna who had gone into labour when she heard of the crash, and attempting to save Tom's life. B'Elanna Paris had fallen pregnant soon after she and Tom married, but three months into her pregnancy, she miscarried. B'Elanna had been inconsolable, venting all her Klingon rage on them. But they understood. He smiled to himself thinking about that day in engineering, when B'Elanna, in a fit of rage wanted to attack him. There were times when he could stare B'Elanna down, and get her to calm herself, but this was not it, he knew. She was hysterical in her grief. It must have been providence, he decided, that Tom made his appearance in engineering. He learnt later that Tom had noticed her anger the morning already, and his concern drove him to look in on her. "B'Elanna, for heaven's sake, you'll kill Carey," he shouted. Grabbing her by the wrists, he said: "C'mon, why don't you hit me instead?" Her eyes blazing daggers, nostrils flaring, she screamed: "Okay, Paris, never say I didn't warn you." Dancing around Tom, while Joe and the rest of the engineering staff looked on in shock, Tom beckoned them to keep away. Then B'Elanna rammed into him. Her Klingon strength, coupled with her extreme anger, made her almost stronger than Tom. Her first blow landed square on his jaw. He sagged to his knees, but was up in a second. She grabbed his collar, pulled him down, brought up her knee and rammed him in the stomach. Tom uttered a cry of surprise, but he now remained on his feet. All the time he let her rain blows on him. Once, she grabbed him again and tore his shirt off, digging her nails into him and scratching deep furrows down his chest. Tom remembered vaguely, "this is not blood fever, and I'm not Vorik," so he let her just hit, a few times knocking him to the floor. Until he saw, for a few seconds, her eyes clearing. She was breathing hard. The fight has left her, he thought. She stood there, looking wildly around her, then she looked at him. Tom held out his arms and said: "Come here, B'Elanna." She moved closer to him, looked at the bruises already forming on his face, the deep gashes in his chest. Almost trance-like she touched his wounds, her fingers quivering over a long cut in his chest. Then she collapsed in his arms. "It's okay," he told Carey, lifting his wife in his arms, kissing her fevered brow, "it's over now. She's come through it." Tom had taken his wife, and holding her close to him, carried her all the way to sickbay, where the doctor sedated her, and tended to Tom's wounds. Lieutenant Carey thought wryly how B'Elanna walked around for days embarrassed in his company, but he assured her: "You know, B'Elanna, the way you reacted, I think it's pretty normal. My wife had difficulty coming to terms with her first miscarriage, and she reacted in about the same way. Now we have two healthy sons, whom I love dearly." She nodded. "Thank you, Joe - , I mean it." "And B'Elanna - " he added as she walked towards her workstation, his own eyes filled with remembered pain, "please remember, your husband suffered too." "Yes - " she said, "I know he did. I know... I know now..." Joe Carey sighed. And almost, almost, we lost little Elizabeth Rowena Paris. ******* The door of the nursery slid quietly open and Lieutenant Tom Paris entered. Walking to where Joe Carey was sitting in an easy chair, his eyes drawn compellingly to the baby in the crib. "Hi, Joe. Has she been a good little girl?" "On her best behaviour. If you throw in the occasional temper tantrum," came Joe's immediate reply. "Boy, this one certainly has a pair of lungs when she's in a mind to use them. I think she got a little fractious when the other moms collected their offspring. She senses she's the last one here. She goes all quiet when I tell her Daddy will come shortly for her. She understands, but then I guess you knew that," Joe carried on. Tom lifted Elizabeth carefully out of the crib, wrapping her in her own comfy blanket B'Elanna herself had made for her. Kissing the faint, very delicate ridges on her forehead softly, he said to Joe: "Thanks for taking care of her. The kids really love you, you know. I've got Naomi Wildman's word for that." Tom thought of that young lady, a little over four years old, and remembered how she came into the world. He silently thanked God for giving him the little girl he held in his arms. He held her close against him, and drank in her baby smell. Joe left the nursery with Tom. He was going to his own quarters to take a well earned rest. Starting his shift at 0400, when he relieves B'Elanna in engineering. He reflected on how he had become firm friends with her, although she did break his nose in the beginning, and on at least one other occasion threatened to do so. But he gained a great respect for her sheer ingenuity and brilliance as an engineer, and admired her. He had bowed gracefully and accepted her leadership, as only his rigid training as a Starfleet officer could instill in him. Other than Tom, Chakotay and the Captain, he was the only crew member who could coax her to calmness whenever she was angry. "See you in the morning, Tom," he finally said as he stepped out of the turbolift, on his deck. As Tom entered the quarters he and B'Elanna shared, he ordered the light setting to a soft, muted glow. He was about to put the sleeping Elizabeth in her cot, when she stared at him, suddenly wide awake. She lifted her chubby little hand, balled it into a fist, and knocked Tom on the chin. Quite hard. Then she uttered a: "Da-da - " She peered at him innocently with eyes as blue as sapphires, not quite like his own... more like my father, Tom thought, a little savagely, quickly tucking the thought away. "Da-da..." she said again, giving him a dribbling wet smile. Uh-oh...the little lady wants me to tickle her under the chin. So Tom went to the couch where he proceeded to entertain his daughter. Elizabeth crowed when he lifted her high, tickled her and blew bubbles in her neck, and against her soft warm belly. She had a high- pitched, clear laugh, showing all six teeth. No, wait - is that another one sprouting? Tom was constantly amazed at her rapid progress. But eight month old Elizabeth had been disturbed in her sleep, and soon her eyelids started drooping again. Tom let her rest against his chest, a position little Elizabeth favoured, while he reclined on the couch. Soon Elizabeth was snoring gently. He had that feeling he experienced so many months ago, as if the sleeping baby melted right into his heart. He kissed the crown of her head, his breath lifting her downy curls. It was all Tom could do to prevent himself from being overcome with emotion, at the little miracle he cradled so tenderly in his arms. How truly fortunate I am, Tom mused as he looked down at the sleeping baby. He marvelled again at how lucky he was indeed that B'Elanna had bestowed all her affections on him. Unconditonally. Tom Paris - rebel, malcontent, down-and-out mercenary and womanising bum extraordinaire. B'Elanna, whose formidable reserve he managed to pierce, when he refused to be intimidated by her. B'Elanna who opened her heart to him, allowing him to see her vulberability. Who entrusted him with all her love. How could he not love her back? Even now, holding their baby in his arms, he felt that familiar warmth rising around his heart, burning him, just thinking about her. Yes, he thought with wonderment, how could he not love her back? He still experienced a slight twinge of regret that he was not present, at least not awake at Elizabeth's birth. Then again, how could I, he thought with a little anguish, when I myself had been... He shook himself mentally to disperse those terror-filled moments. He cupped Elizabeth's head gently, and stroked the soft blonde curls, looking at her with his heart in his eyes. To think she almost died. This little girl who could look at him with total innocence the one moment, and the next her Klingon ridges would stand out red when she threw one of her baby tantrums. I'd better put her to bed, he was still thinking when his own eyes closed gently. ******* At exactly 0415 B'Elanna alighted from the turbolift on deck four and strode quickly, as if in a great hurry, to their quarters. She smiled to herself, thinking of the precious few hours she was going to spend with her husband and daughter. Thinking of the previous occasions when, upon entering the room, she would find Tom and Elizabeth in raucous mood, crawling on the floor. Toys would be strewn all around them. When they notice her, they - no - Tom, would just have that same silly smile on his face which seems to say: I did try to stop her, B'Elanna. She stood outside their door and raised her eyebrow in surprise at the absence of noise and laughter that would normally emanate from the room. Even at this hour. As she entered their code, the door slid open. B'Elanna walked in and stopped dead in her tracks: for there, on the couch lay Tom, on his back, and Elizabeth lying on his chest, but nestled comfortably and securely in his arms, both fast asleep. She paused a few moments to look at them, so serene in sleep, and drank in the sight before her. For a few seconds, unbidden a scene stole upon her. Another place and another time when a tiny, newborn baby lay like that on the chest of an unconscious man. She closed her eyes for a moment. I almost lost them both, she thought, that familiar feeling of pain squeezing her heart again. She felt the burn of tears, as her eyes reddened. I would gladly have given my life if they had died. Gladly. Father and daughter. So alike in features, I don't even mind. I'm so priveleged to have them both with me. Very gently she extricated Elizabeth from his arms. She held the sleeping child a few seconds against her, her little body soft and warm with sleep, and softly kissed her cheek, before walking to the alcove where Elizabeth's cot was. Covering her with her blanket, she smiled at how Elizabeth had become so attached to her blanket. She didn't want to believe Tom in the beginning about this blanky thing. Now she can see for herself. She stroked Elizabeth's hair, her cheek, the faint ridges, the one feature she inherited from her mother. Tom said to her at the time not to worry: she may look like her father, but she'll take after her mother. For a moment her little hand reached out and clutched her mother's finger. Then slowly, as her sleep deepened again, she relaxed her tight little grip. B'Elanna smiled, awed at the extraordinary strength Elizabeth displayed at so early an age. She attached the tiny transmitter behind Elizabeth's ear. The one B'Elanna herself had used when she used to wake up in the night, hyperventilating. She wasn't a paranoid person, but it was comforting to hear Elizabeth's breathing. In the beginning, the first few months, the transmitter was a real lifesaver, warning them when her heart rate would slow down. Now, it was just such a comfort. She was showered and ready for bed when she walked to where Tom was till fast asleep. "Tom...Tom..." she shook him a little, knowing how slow he was to waking up after a straight twelve hour shift. "Wha-what - ? Is something wrong?" "Tom..." B'Elanna smiled gently at him. Very slowly he sat up, and seeing her, smiled a little sheepishly. "I guess I fell asleep. I was going to put her to bed, you know." He looked at her, seeing no censure and only a beguiling indulgence in her eyes. "You," she said, poking his chest playfully with her forefinger, "ought to be punished. But seeing as the ship's conn officer has to start his shift at 0900 and his beloved is rather tired, I'll let you off the hook. This time." The last was said with a threatening glare in her fiery Klingon eyes. "Hey, who am I to object?" Tom retorted. He drew her into his arms, holding her possessively against him for a few seconds, his hands rubbing up and down her arms. He kissed her gently, his thumb caressing her full breast. B'Elanna still nursed Elizabeth whenever she was off duty. He put his lips to the gentle swell of her breast, irresistably drawn to the erect nipple which seemed to be inviting him to suckle, and drown in wild ambrosia. B'Elanna ran her fingers through his hair, her breathing becoming shallow. Tom licked the nipple, tugging at it before covering it fully with his mouth. "Tom..." her voice sounding in protest. "Please don't..." With magnificent restraint he sighed, then led her to their bedroom and a few minutes later he joined her, where she was already half asleep. He tucked himself behind her, and spooned her body to his, his arm around her waist, the hand covering her breast. Kissing her hair, he whispered softly: "Goodnight..." ******* "Hey, B'Elanna... here's someone demanding some quality time," Tom called, walking into the bedroom with a wide-awake and squirming baby in his arms. "Coming up: one very hungry lady with six - no, make that seven tiny sharp teeth." "Morning Tom," B'Elanna reminded him. "Kiss?" "Oh yes, not to forget other important things." He bent over and kissed her soundly, to which the wriggling infant, held up her face, demanding she be kissed too. She promptly planted a smacking wet kiss on Tom's chin. It was 0830 and Tom, looking fresh and resplendent in command red - it never ceased to amaze B'Elanna as she stared at him through sleep- dazed eyes - and looking darned daring-do attractive, was holding Elizabeth as he sat down next to her on the bed. "There...all powdered and polished. One adoring sprite who's pining for her equally adoring mother. Say 'morning' to Mama, Elizabeth." Elizabeth needed no invitation. "Ma-ma...Ma-ma...Ma-ma..." she crowed. She lunged herself at her mother, landing with a full smack of her hand on B'Elanna's cheek. "Ouch!" B'Elanna shouted, making as if to cry. Elizabeth promptly started caressing her mother's cheek in sympathy. "Sore Ma-ma?" This had both parents smiling indulgently. "She has quite a heavy hand. Her *mother's* heavy hand, I might add. I got a fist on the jaw last night. But she didn't stroke *my* cheek afterwards," Tom quipped. "Yeah, and I guess she got the stroking cheek thing from you." Tom, not in least abashed, rejoined: "she has a unique combination - tough as nails and as gentle as a lamb. That's our girl." Elizabeth had, during this easy banter between her parents wormed her way under the blankets and into her mother's arms, impatiently tugging with her fingers at her mother's breast. And B'Elanna, as only nursing mothers could, intuitively took out her full swollen breast, the erect nipple like a homing beacon before Elizabeth covered it with her rosy lips and started sucking greedily. "Ahhh... " Tom groaned. "That I should be so lucky," as he watched this tender scene. Tom was so moved, he had serious doubts about being on time for his duty shift. Putting his own lips against B'Elanna's other warm breast, he closed his eyes, sighed and got up. "I'll see you tonight," he said as he left the two most important persons in his life to their quality time. ****** B'Elanna looked at the retreating figure of her husband, and thought her heart would burst. Snuggling with Elizabeth deeper under the blankets, she thought of the glorious hours the two of them would have together. One of them included the necessary doctor's check-up. For a moment her eyes clouded, thinking of the time she had almost lost this wonderful baby. She quickly pushed that thought away and thanked Kahless for giving her baby back to her. A small miracle. After Elizabeth has had her fill, B'Elanna raised herself against the pillows, drawing up her knees. Elizabeth was now sitting in her lap, her small back resting comfortably against her mother's knees. B'Elanna held Elizabeth's tiny hands in hers, and clapped them. "So sweetheart, what game shall we play this morning? Or do want me to sing for you?" Elizabeth touched her mother's forehead, then touched her own, sensing the likeness. It seemed she understood her mother's words. "Ma-ma... sing," she crowed. "Okay," Mama said, hoping that Tom wouldn't hear of this, or she'd never hear the end of it. Elizabeth, in spite of her eight months, could already mouth some basic words, like 'sing'. Tom had a passable voice, as such voices went in early morning showers, but B'Elanna was tone deaf, according to him. But who cared if your baby was listening to you with rapt attention as you went into an ancient Klingon lullabye your own mother had sung for when you yourself were a baby? Screetching happily, Elizabeth clapped her hands together and loudly joined in with her own babybabble. Then the familiar beep of the computer sounded. "Sickbay to Lieutenant Torres." "Go ahead, Doctor," B'Elanna replied, already knowing what the surly doctor was going to say. "I'm reminding you, Lieutenant Torres, that your infant is due for her regular monthly medical examination. Your appointment is at 1200 and don't be late." She sighed. "Doctor, are you usually so grumpy in the morning?" she asked with a note of exasperation in her voice. "Lieutenant, as an emergency medical *interface* programmed by you predators, I can't be grumpy, as you so ineloquently put it." "Well then, *interface* , perhaps I should tweak your program just so you could be a little less grumpy. And take that frown off your face, Doc, I know it's there. You'll scare my daughter if she has to see you look like that." "Lieutenant, the acerbic doctor remarked, I think your husband's brand of sardonic humour has rubbed off on you. I'm not so sure if that's a good thing, or something positively evil for a poor interface like me. See you at twelve." ****** When Lieutenant Tom Paris entered the bridge, the Captain, First Officer and Harry Kim had already taken position at their stations. He wasn't late, and nodded a quick greeting to all of them, before moving briskly to the conn where he relieved Ensign Baytart. Tom felt the thrill he got everytime he took his seat at the helm of this magnificent starship. It's as though she knows me, he thought every- time he pushed her to maximum warp. Boy, could he do maneuvers with this ship! What free time he has, is spent on programming maneuvers for holodeck simulations, to be tried (with Captain's permission of course) later on one the shuttles. He knew there would come a time one day that one of those intricate patterns would be used. It might even get us home, he thought wryly. Kathryn Janeway looked at Tom Paris as he entered the bridge and watched him take his seat at the helm. He oozed confidence and extreme dexterity when handling the conn, she reflected. Tom appears to be an extension of the ship, so at one with her, they move together. She has never regretted her decision to bring him on board Voyager. She still remembers that look of total surprise he gave her almost six years ago now, when fighting the Kazon-Ogla to protect the Ocampa world, and she had given him the conn. In the few seconds he had looked at her, she had seen the resolve, the pledge he silently made not to let her down. The eagerness to be of help when at the time he had been only an observer. How aggrieved he sounded when she told him at the penal colony, that that would be his status on Voyager. An observer, a down-and-out prison junkie. She knows now what she had only sensed then: that Tom Paris had hidden strengths he didn't want the world to see. She knew then, in those few precious moments when they connected, that he would never let her down. Now he is her most trusted pilot, a gifted one at that. He has become a man, she mused. The man his father had wanted to see and pushed him into, too early, too soon. Kathryn Janeway intuitively knew that Tom Paris was going to be instrumental in bringing them home. He had grown incredibly these last few years, embracing his responsibilities with maturity and vision. "Oh, he'll hear of it. When we get back," she remembers him saying the day she gave him his commission - and his life - back. I'm proud of him. As proud as any parent can be, she reflected. But Kathryn Janeway knew that it was B'Elanna Torres who came and enriched Tom's life. B'Elanna who added and filled that new dimension to his life, so that he pursued his goals with greater purpose, greater drive. Who refused to be daunted by the apparent disinterest he sometimes showed whenever his father or his past was mentioned. She had, to a great extent managed to temper him, toned his anger, loving him enough to earn his trust. They had come through a particularly traumatic period. A couple, still young, who had to brave so many adversities in their personal lives and their marriage. She doubted whether she would ever forget those fateful ten days, when both Tom an B'Elanna had lain in sick bay, Tom in critical condition after the shuttle carrying the away team was shot down. He managed to make an emergency landing, saving the lives of Chakotay (once again), and Harry Kim. They sustained only minor injuries, and could assume their work almost immediately. It was the major reason both Harry and Chakotay were guilt-ridden, that they survived and Tom didn't even show any lifesigns. His injuries were so severe, that even Voyager's Doctor had his doubts. B'Elanna, hearing of the accident while visiting engineering, had gone into labour, eight months pregnant. Kathryn's thoughts went back to those traumatic few days in sickbay. ****** Captain Janeway strode into sickbay and walked directly to where Tom was lying. Only her rigid Starfleet training prevented her from exclaiming in shock at Tom's condition. "Status Doctor," she barked. The Doctor looked at the Captain, his normal frown a little more pronounced. "He has multiple injuries. He has a fractured pelvis, his legs are fractured in several places, three ribs are broken; he has a ruptured liver and spleen. His lungs have collapsed. Apart from severe lacerations and burns on his face, chest and arms, he has also suffered a severe blow to the head. The cranium is fractured at the point of the blow, which has caused intra-cranial bleeding and pressure." The Captain looked at Tom, who looked like a broken doll, with blood oozing from his nose, mouth and ears. It was a terrible sight. This was the foreboding she felt all these months. "Commander Chakotay informed me that Mr Paris had been trapped under the collapsed bulkheads. It seems, Captain, he saved their lives, bringing the shuttle down." The Doctor continued scanning Tom, and looked at the monitor. Then he continued, a frown deepening. "But I must tell you Captain," the Doctor continued, "Lieutenant Paris is deeply concussed. In fact, he is in a deep coma. I've placed a cortical stimulator on him, to retain his brain activity. I have managed to stabilize the bleeding. It would be like putting a broken doll together. With these injuries he sustained, he should be dead. Other than that, there's very little I can do now Captain. He's dying. He may never wake up." "No - no -o!! Oh no...!!!" an agonising scream filled the room, for no one had seen B'Elanna enter sickbay, followed by Joe Carey. Both the Doctor and the Captain swung round in time to see B'Elanna lunge forward, and seeing Tom's broken body on the biobed, sank to the floor. Kathryn Janeway took hold of B'Elanna, but she was oblivious to everyone in the room. "Oh God!!! Tom...please don't die...please don't die... we're going t-to have a baby, Tom." She stood at the biobed, her hands stretched out to touch him. But there was no place she could put her hands. She gave a huge racking sob, helpless to alleviate his pain through the comfort of touch. "Captain?" came the beseeching question from B'Elanna. "He can't be d-dying, Captain. We're having a baby. He-he wanted to see our baby." The distraught woman turned to the Doctor, "don't let him die, please..." "Doctor," Lieutenant Carey interjected, "B'Elanna is in labour. Her water broke while we were in engineering." When Joe tried to lift B'Elanna onto one of the other beds, he was met with such fierce resistance, he feared B'Elanna would break his nose again. "Let me go- !!" she wailed. "Leave me alone. Oh, can't you see? I have to be with Tom - . I can't leave him... he's going to die...! Can't you see that?" She looked again at Tom's still form with such raw pain, it broke the Captain's heart to see this proud warrior in agony. The Doctor approached B'Elanna, hypospray in hand. B'Elanna, now racked by labour pains, looked at the Doctor appealingly, and said, now with a calm acceptance: "Doctor, don't sedate me, please. I want to feel the pain. I need the pain. If you sedate me, I'll die too." She took a few steps back, slowly. She looked at the Captain. "I...I saw him before...like this...Captain. He was dying. Died... I badgered him to-to take that flight. He didn't want to...at first. But I-I told him t-t-to do it for me...for me..." She was sobbing brokenly, then suddenly bent over in pain as a contraction washed over her. "He's dying now, isn't he, Doctor?" she cried, hot tears spilling down her cheeks. "Come, B'Elanna," Kathryn Janeway said soothingly. "Let Lieutenant Carey help you onto the bed." She took the distraught woman gently by the shoulders and led her to the bed. Only now B'Elanna let the Captain and Joe help her. She calmed a little, as if knowing there will be another battle on her slender shoulders. Tha Captain tapped her commbadge. "Janeway to Chakotay." "Chakotay here. What is the status, Captain?" Kathryn could hear the concern in his voice. She sighed, knowing how he still felt bad. "Tom's condition remains critical, Chakotay. The Doctor doesn't look optimistic. But it's B'Elanna I'm also worried about. She's here in sickbay. She went into labour. I need you to rearrange the shifts of Samantha Wildman, and Rue Hamilton. I want one of them in here in an hour. We need extra hands. Janeway out." Then she held B'Elanna's hand again, and soothed her. The Doctor, shaking his head, concentrated on the monitor in front of him, calling up decision track 347: Triage. And he frowned again. Lieutenant Paris' condition is critical, his wife distraught and in labour. Five years ago he would have had no hesitation coming to a triage decision. But he had come to know everyone on Voyager well. They were his friends now, in particular the senior crew. Tom Paris, in spite of his many objections, was his assistant medic in sickbay. These two young people both deserve a chance at living. If holographic interfaces could be said to have emotions, by which sentience could be measured, then Voyager's EMH was now a very worried man. And so B'Elanna Paris, lying on a bed next to her dying husband, prepared for the birth of their baby. Right through her harrowing time Captain Janeway held her hand, wiped her brow, while Joe Carey, who helped bring his own sons into the world, now helped the Doctor. B'Elanna never stopped looking at the still, deathly form of her husband, while she was drenched in perspiration, the pain of giving birth almost overpowering her. "Doctor, please...how-how is he...?" she would sob plaintively. Then just as suddenly she would scream with agonisng pain. "Tom...Tom, please...don't die...!" Then Doctor would placate: "B'Elanna, you must breathe deeply. Don't make it difficult for yourself. Your own state of mind is stressful for the baby." B'Elanna, in a moment of rare black humour, grabbed the Doctor by his turtleneck, hauled him closer and snarled: "Doctor, are you giving birth, and is that your husband lying there, dying?" She growled baring her teeth in anger and anguish. Kathryn Janeway, her eyes full of tears, smiled when baby Elizabeth Rowena Paris finally made her appearance, so quietly, the Doctor looked first at B'Elanna then at the Captain in alarm. Her smile died on her lips. Placing the baby immediately in her birthing crib, which Joe had set up, he set about examining the baby. B'Elanna, alerted to the sudden change in tension in sick bay, tried to sit up, but held back by Joe. "What's wrong?" A little silence ensued. "What's wrong with my baby?" The Doctor looked first at the Captain as if seeking consent. Her nod was imperceptible. "Your baby, Lieutenant, has two hearts, like you have and all Klingons have. But her one heart is not functioning normally. It is about to stop beating. It is slowing down the rate of the other heart. Her condition, I'm afraid, is critical. She may not make it, Lieutenant," the Doctor replied, not being one to hold out on a diagnosis. "I have managed to stabilise her. I'm sorry, B'Elanna." She tried to lift herself to look at her newborn infant, saw the familiar blue tinge of oxygen deprivation, then quietly, and without ceremony, sank into a dead faint. "What now, Doctor," the Captain asked as she looked at the unconscious trio, so inextricably linked. She looked at Tom again, noticing for the first time how a tear rolled down his right cheek. It's as if he knows, she realised with awful clarity. He can sense something is wrong. Joe stood by Tom's bed. He looked intently at the comatose man. If I could will you alive right now Tom, he thought, I would do so. But I can't. He felt as helpless as the Doctor and the Captain. The Doctor needed more hands. And the only medic who could have been of assistance, was now lying there, dying. The Doctor had been monitoring B'Elanna, easing her gently back to consciousness. Only this time she did not want to wake up. "I want to die...let me die..." wailed the grief-stricken young woman. The Captain came to hold her hand again, letting B'Elanna sob brokenly. Hugging the younger woman tightly, the Captain cried with her. For she understood grief, and what it felt like to grieve for a loved one. How much pain, Kathryn Janeway thought, can a woman so young and on the threshold of her life, endure? But how sweet, how miraculous, the Captain reflected, was the sound of a baby's cry above their own. B'Elanna heard the cry too, her own sobbing stilled, and a smile began to tremble through her tears. She looked first at the Captain, then to the Doctor where he had been tending the newborn infant. "Doctor...?" As the Captain gently eased B'Elanna back against the pillows, the Doctor lifted little Elizabeth with great care and placed her on her mother's bosom. B'Elanna clutched her newborn infant to her heart, and looked at Tom, tears rolling down her cheeks: "Here she is, Tom. Our baby. And she looks like you," the young mother said through her tears. As if Tom could hear her and the crying baby, almost in answer, another tear rolled down his cheek. The Doctor, certain that he had the traumatic situation under control now, said in smug assurance: "Hmm, well, I see what happened. It seems as if your baby's healthy heart's rate had slowed down, but it was just adjusting to beating rhythmically without the other heart, which has stopped beating. The healthy heart can now beat on it's own. I must unfortunately keep your baby here to perform the procedure of removing the malfunctioning heart. And insert a tiny pacemaker until the remaining heart can work entirely on it's own. It will only be a few days, then she's all yours, for life. Joe, who felt by this time that the situation was under control, excused himself to continue his duties in engineering. The Doctor proceeded to tend to Tom's injuries, although he knew that the young man would not get out of the coma. "B'Elanna," Captain Janeway said, "you are tired. Please, you must rest now." The Doctor placed the baby in the crib. Samantha Wildman entered and proceeded to tend to Voyager's newest infant. The young mother had fallen into a restless sleep. Looking at her in deep affection, the Captain stroked her hair gently from her face, so disquieted in her sleep. She will never rest until Tom is well again. And Tom may never wake up. Kathryn walked to Tom's bed, and it seemed to her as if his head was turned ever so slightly towards where wife and daughter lay. She bent down and kissed his cheek. "For B'Elanna," she said quietly, before she too, made her exit. ******** Tom Paris had known the moment the shuttle had been hit by a phaser blast, he would bear the brunt of the attack. Already gravely injured he entered a few crucial parameters and prepared for an emergency landing. He said to Chakotay, "tell B'Elanna I love her..." "Paris to Voyager...Paris to Voyager...do you read me? We've sustained a direct hit. Preparing for emergency landing!" Crash landing was more like it, was his last thought as he lost the struggle to remain conscious. He felt himself floating up...up...up... The next few minutes were of fleeting images. He saw his body lying on a biobed on board Voyager, and wondered why he was standing outside of his own body. I must be dead, he thought with alarm. Next he saw B'Elanna. B'Elanna! Why is B'Elanna crying? He saw the Captain, seeming to comfort B'Elanna, he thought with pain. Something is wrong with me. Something is wrong with B'Elanna. Let me get up from here, Doc. But nobody can hear him. He can feel a tear rolling down his cheek. Sometimes he would be engulfed in total darkness, the pain holding him prisoner. So much, he wants to stay in the comfort of the black hole. He wanted to stay there in the dark pit, where he could feel no pain. Then there would be some light. But the light hurt him. It hurt. It was a fire that burned ceaselessly through his body. He wanted to go back. Away from the pain. To the comfort of darkness. All the time, he can hear a voice. Like the voice of an angel. He always wondered about angels. Telling him to come out of the darkness. Don't be afraid, it said. Come to me, it said. But I want to stay here, in this void where I can't feel the pain. It hurts Angel. You must be an angel. Let me come to you, my angel. That's what you are. Angel: First Class. My sweet angel who talks to me and holds my hand and wants me to come to her. Then he would retreat into that black hole, where he felt nothing, and his angel would rage. Angels get angry? Sometimes he can hear a baby cry. Then the angel would cry too. Please, don't cry. Don't be unhappy. Once he felt the angel let go of his hand. He didn't want to let go. Another image appeared to take his angel away. Don't leave me, please! My sweet angel, don't go...don't go...! He knew everytime he retreated into that black hole, he wanted to stay less and less. As long as his angel was talking to him. Sometimes he heard a baby's plaintive crying, and he wanted to come out of the darkness to touch and hold the baby and comfort it. And so, with incessant pain which seemed to turn his his whole body into an inferno, his angel dragged him from the dark abyss into the light. Let me hold your hand. Angel: First Class. Let me feel your warm hand. ****** Ten days after Tom Paris slipped into a coma, he opened his eyes again. As suddenly and as unannounced as though he had been sleeping. He cannot remember ever feeling so incredibly weak. It hurt even to think. Already the effort alone of opening his eyes, so tired him he wanted to close them again. His lids were heavy, bearing down to close again. With tremendous effort he managed to keep them open. The room swam dizzyingly around him, until the images stopped moving. He realised he was lying in sickbay. I must be on Voyager. Am I alive? I must be, came the confusion of thoughts. He felt a hand over his own. It must be my angel, came the unbidden thought. He tried to feel the angel's hand. He tried to look at her. But someone was lying with arms resting on the bed, one hand holding his. A fan of dark brown hair over her shoulders, face turned towards his. She was asleep. "My angel?" he whispered in a croaking voice. "B'Elanna?" B'Elana opened her eyes. She saw Tom's eyes were open. He looked so desperately ill. She did not move, but her eyes filled slowly with tears. It was her. The angel who brought him to the light. He tried to squeeze her hand, but he was so weak. She seemed to feel it. She did not move from where she was still lying with her head resting on her arms, but she spoke softly, her tears spilling warmly on his hand: "I named her Elizabeth Rowena, Tom. And she is beautiful. She looks just like you." "I...love...you...Angel..." Tom said so softly it was difficult to hear it, but she saw him mouth the words. It was enough for her. Tom was going to get better. Although he looked so incredibly weak. The effort alone of speaking drained him of strength. By the time B'Elanna bent over to kiss him, Tom slipped into a peaceful sleep, his breathing for the first time normal and blessedly even. "Come, Lieutenant Torres. You can finally rest now. You have a little baby to care for. Your husband will recover now," the Doctor said, for once with a note of kindness in his voice. B'Elanna allowed the Doctor to lead her away. Then she went into the nursery, walked to the newborn-baby alcove, and proceeded to tell Elizabeth of her Daddy's miraculous recovery. ********** Chakotay had to squeeze the Captain's hand to wake her from her reverie. She appeared to give herself a mental shake before looking somewhat bemused at Chakotay. He leaned over, their heads almost touching, and whispered: "You have a ship to run, Kathryn." She looked at Chakotay, his calm demeanour and smiling eyes belying the fun he must be having at her expense. Trying hard to regain her composure, she said: "I was thinking how much Tom has grown in the last few years. He and B'Elanna have really come through a difficult period. I was reminded of something my grandmother used to tell us. About how the path we walk on is often strewn with thorns and thistles which we must battle through. How one's life can be enriched for having come through it. They have come through it wonderfully. Painfully, but wonderfully." "That's why Tom's is so protective over the women in his life," Chakotay said, giving the Captain a meaningful look. He got up from his chair and went to stand behind Tom, whose eyes were fixed on the expanse of darkness and streaking stars before him. Resting his hand on Tom's shoulder, he asked: "How is everybody's favourite baby doing?" Chakotay had, along with every other member of the crew, fallen in love with the cutest baby on Voyager. "She socked me on the jaw last night, and this morning whacked B'Elanna's cheek. I'd say she's on her mettle," Tom replied. "I think she takes after her Mama in that respect," he added with a note of pride. Chakotay smiled. "I daresay she inherited B'Elanna's fighting spirit there. Though heaven knows where she got that totally winning smile from," he said, just knowing how Tom's face would light up in that same smile. "Well, the lady with the totally winning smile is due for her medical at 1200 and the lady's mother is a little apprehensive." Tom sighed. "B'Elanna is really worried, Chakotay. Heaven knows, she's had enough of that the last few months. The tiny pacemaker has been Elizabeth's lifeline. B'Elanna has had too many sleepless nights just listening to her breathing. So have I. We'll know today whether she can continue without it." Tom had been working the controls as he spoke to Chakotay, but at the last words, he looked up at his executive officer and Chakotay could see the concern in Tom's eyes. It was damned unlucky that with all the trauma of the crash, the Paris baby entered the world just fighting to stay alive. He understood. Before returning to his seat he said: "Look, why don't you go down to sickbay aroung 1145? I'll take over here when you leave." Seeing Tom's doubtful look, he added quickly: "Oh, I promise not to roll the ship." Chakotay was rewarded by the relieved look on Tom's face. He realised with sudden insight that Tom was not going to ask. He would never ask for favours. That was how he knew this young man, as he seated himself. He wanted no special treatment. His initial distrust of Tom had turned into grudging admiration. Tom saved his life - twice - in a very direct manner. Yet he would never blow his own trumpet about his acts of bravery, Chakotay reflected. He took turns at the time with Kathryn to visit sickbay during Tom's illness, and thought, not without pain, how hard B'Elanna had taken the pending demise of this deadly ill man. He closed his eyes, remembering the few times he had been in sickbay... ******* Chakotay entered sickbay and with a curt nod to the Doctor, who was hovering over the baby, walked to B'Elanna. She was deathly pale, her eyes were sunken, dark and worried when she turned to face him. She was holding Tom's hand and was looking intently at his face when Chakotay approached her. He didn't have to ask how Tom was doing. He could see. His form, so still, hardly breathing. Chakotay held her shoulders gently, but firmly and urged her out of the chair: "Come, B'Elanna, you need rest. There, look, baby is ready for her feed. He held her face in his hands and said: "If it is any consolation at all, B'Elanna, Tom's last words were to tell you he loves you." She nodded, her eyes dark and unhappy. Although it lit up a little when she looked at Elizabeth, who still had a very slight bluish tinge. She very reluctantly let go of Tom's hand, almost imagining that his grip on her hand tightened. She allowed Chakotay to lead her away. He took the chair she vacated. He willed the spirits to help this man who had become his friend. On another day, when Elizabeth had been so fractious, not even her tired mother could comfort her, Chakotay suggested, much to the Doctor's chagrin, that they let her lie on her Daddy's chest. Doing so had been an act of inspiration, for Elizabeth quietened almost immediately. Both the Doctor and B'Elanna looked momentarily surprised, but Chakotay had a feeling that what he suggested, would do the trick. He had seen the bonding almost instantly the first time he came into sickbay and watched the baby. Then something else jolted them all. As the little baby drifted off to sleep right there on her father's chest, Tom's hand moved up, as if attempting to touch the child. They looked at this, then saw in wonder as a tear rolled down his cheek. Seeing this, Chakotay knew that Tom Paris would recover, come out of the coma. He told his quietly crying young friend of his as much. The Doctor piped in to confirm what Chakotay told her, and B'Elanna hugged both of them in turn, before she gently lifted the sleeping baby from her father and placed her in the crib again. She felt better than she had in days. The Doctor suggested she take a nap on one of the other beds, which B'Elanna did, and then she fell into a dreamless sleep. ****** Tom was grateful for the opportunity Chakotay gave him to have an hour of so he could be with B'Elanna. He had known of her apprehension, sensing that she didn't want to be alone when taking Elizabeth for her medical. He lost ten days of his life when he had lain in a coma; ten days of his precious daughter's life, he added. And B'Elanna had borne it alone. Granted, she had the full support of the entire Voyager crew and senior officers, but it is not the same. It's just not the same. She needed him there. He came out of the coma ten days after the crash, and he remembered only that B'Elanna told him the baby's name. It was a full twenty four hours after a fitful sleep, that he was more aware of things around him. "B'Elanna?" he whispered her name, where she was sitting near a crib. "Baby?" She rose, carrying a small bundle, and came to sit next to him. "She was born the day you crashed, Tom. Here, look at her." She held the baby up to him. He felt tears stinging his eyes. Then B'Elanna placed Elizabeth on his chest. Tom's hand came up slowly to hold her. His other hand gently cupped Elizabeth's head. He closed his eyes, and she could see the tears seeping through them. He opened his eyes again, and whispered simply: "Thank you, B'Elanna." "Tom," she said, caressing his cheek with the back of her hand, "you're still very ill. We'll take this one day at a time, okay? One day at a time. We'll be here everyday." It calmed him immeasurably that B'Elanna sounded so strong now. He drifted off to sleep again. Over the next few weeks, as he slowly regained his strength, so his impatience grew to be with his family. B'Elanna would sit in sickbay with him; he would be dressed in the blue Starfleet issue hospital gown which he had come to hate. He still moved slowly. He had to give his body time to heal naturally. B'Elanna decided from the start to breastfeed Elizabeth and it awed him to see her feeding their baby, who seemed to be growing stronger by the day. The slightly bluish tinge had gone completely. "She's a greedy little thing, isn't she? I can see she's suckling quite strongly. Doesn't it hurt?" he asked slyly. "No more than when you get busy here. I can see you're getting better." She gave him a relieved look. "I mean to get better, B'Elanna," he said with determination. He took Elizabeth from her, gently rubbing her back after her feed. Holding her so he could look at her, her eyes now open, she stared at him. Her eyes were very blue, her cheeks now flushed, her lips rosy. He kissed the soft ridges on her little brow. Then he held her gently against his chest, and closed his eyes. "She looks like you Tom. She has your eyes, your colouring, she has blonde hair. Only this," and B'Elanna touched the faint ridges on Elizabeth's forehead, "is mine," she said in mock resentment. "My mother used to complain how she was the odd one out in our family with her brown eyes. Everybody else bore the Paris blue eyes. My dad used to tell her we may look like him but we take after her. They always take after their mothers. No doubt Elizabeth will too. Take after you, I mean." "Be careful what you wish for, Lieutenant." "B'Elanna, sweetheart, are you saying she's going to scratch and bite me too? Will you, sweet Elizabeth?" he crooned as he held her level with his eyes and looked at her. "Why do you think I wanted a girl? We needed to outnumber you." He was blissfully happy the day Doctor discharged both him and Elizabeth. He wanted his family with him, "so I could sleep in my own bed again, next to my wife," and he kissed her. Yes, he thought, it's just not the same as having your own family, your husband there to support you, as he entered their quarters. "Tom - " B'Elanna's face lit up as he entered. She was dressed in her uniform, for she'd be going on duty after their visit to the Doctor. "I'm so glad you're here." Elizabeth was on the floor, crawling. She's going to be walking soon, Tom realised as he saw her haul herself up against his leg. Kissing B'Elanna lingeringly, he was reminded of their young charge as he felt a set of teeth biting into his leg. "Ouch! That hurt, you little minx," as he bent down to pick her up. "Don't worry so, Angel," he told his wife. It's going to be all right." B'Elanna looked at him in surprise. "You called me that the day you came out of the coma. You thought I was an angel, didn't you?" "No, sweetheart," Tom replied. "you *were* the angel. Still are. It was your voice I heard everytime, pulling me back. I love you." He bent down and kissed her again. They left their quarters, Tom carrying Elizabeth on his hip while the other arm was around B'Elanna's shoulder. They were going to present a united front to the Doctor. He would have no choice but to pronounce Elizabeth fit, Tom decided. As assistant medic, he could see his daughter ready to cope without the pacemaker. ***** The door of the sickbay closed behind them. Tom had been a patient here often enough to hate it. He pulled his nose slightly, his thoughts interrupted by: "Ah, I see the troublesome trio is here. Come to make my day," his attempts at humour falling on deaf ears. "And a very good morning to you too, Doc," came Tom's reply. "What can I do for you today?" he asked sarcastically. "Well, for one, you can help by handing me that medical tricorder I see your intrepid daughter is playing with," was the Doctor's quick retort. B'Elanna had been quiet during this interchange between Tom and the Doctor. She was certainly in no humour today, the Doctor thought, seeing the troubled look in her eyes. "Doctor - ," B'Elana said, "please - ." He wasted no time in starting the examination on an infant who started to cry fractiously the minute she saw the frown on Doctor's face. The next few minutes the parents tried to calm their daughter. Then, listening to Daddy's calm, reassuring voice, she settled down. B'Elanna looked at him and gave a sigh of relief. She hit Mama's commbadge. Which had the Captain responding. "Er...Captain..." B'Elanna answered. "It's okay. Elizabeth just hit my badge by accident," she said, a little embarrassed. "B'Elanna, you know Elizabeth already knows you can communicate with the commbadge. Such mendacity. Shame on you," he whispered in her ear. Finally the Doctor stood up. I wonder, B'Elanna thought, if I can program that frown off his face. "Well," the Doctor declared smugly, "this one's as fit as ...what is it you predators say? As fit as a fiddle." He looked both parents in the eyes as he continued: "As you know, her liver had been the one vital organ which had a connection to her malfunctioning heart. When I removed that heart and connected the healthy heart to serve that organ - a very intricate procedure, I might add - I was very certain that the remaining heart would do the work of the other. The good news I have for you today is that I can now remove the tiny pacemaker I had inserted soon after her birth." "Lieutenants," he said loftily, "your daughter is as healthy as the other children on Voyager. Just bring her in to me in a month's time. The procedure will be a formality." The Doctor rolled his eyes, "and the spirits have mercy on my sensor circuitry." This he said as Elizabeth tried to remove his commbadge to stick it in her mouth. "There now. You may go. You'll be fine," he said in his best bedside manner. The Doctor appeared not to notice the crying mother being hugged by her husband, with the little girl impatiently demanding to be hugged too. "Doc, thanks for everything," Tom said a few minutes after B'Elanna had collected herself. The happy family left the sickbay in greater spirit than when they entered, and walked to the nursery where they were going to leave Elizabeth in the capable hands of Susan Nicoletti and the inimitable Neelix. "Angel," Tom whispered in B'Elanna's ear as they left the nursery, "we have about fifteen minutes to spare, why don't - " "Thomas Eugene Paris, are you - " Before she could finish, Tom trapped her against the bulkhead, imprisoning her hands in his, and homed in on a perfect pair of red lips. Very slowly he brought his head closer, till he touched her lips with his own. It was all she needed as she opened her mouth to him, tasting him, tracing his teeth with her tongue. They were both breathing hard, Tom having pressed his body against hers. God, Tom thought, she burns me up everytime I just kiss her. And B'Elanna thought: I could kiss him like this forever. So engrossed they were, they didn't notice Seven until she was standing right next to them, peering at their flushed faces, watching this outward display of affection. "Is this what they call 'mashing of lips'?" she asked innocently. Pulling slowly away from his wife's delectable lips, Tom said: "I see, Seven, Harry has instructed you well." He reluctantly let go of B'Elanna before he left the two women to their crazy talk and returned to the bridge. ***** "Well, what did the Doctor say?" asked the Captain as Tom entered the bridge. "He's given Elizabeth a clean bill of health," Tom said, unable to keep the relief from his voice. "Tom," Kathryn Janeway said as she stood up to stand next to him. "I'm really very happy to hear that. Elizabeth is a very special child. Do you have any objection if this news is relayed on a ship wide communication? The crew has been waiting anxiously." She looked at Tom with great affection. He would always be my favourite. Well, other than Chakotay, of course. Tom had long ago expressed his gratitude to the woman whom he and B'Elanna had chosen to be the godmother of their daughter. Looking at the Captain now, he could see that she meant every word. He stood on attention before her, his hands to his sides, his shoulders erect, then said: "Thank you, Captain." Taking his position at the conn, the Captain took her place next to Chakotay. She briefly touched his hand. He gripped hers comfortingly. Dear, dear Chakotay, Kathryn Janeway thought. You know me so well now. DIE EINDE Ronnie would love some feedback - please. Watch out for next story: CATHARSIS