Series: Going Home/The Enterprising Wedding

Codes: Paris/Torres, Janeway/Chakotay, Kim/f

Disclaimer-Tom Paris, B'Elanna Torres, and the rest of the TNG, Voyager and DS9 crews belong to Paramount. So do the characters of Mr. Torres, Prabsa Torres, Admiral Owen Paris, Madeline Paris, Ensign Danny Bird, Mark Johnson, and Libby. However, those characters have not been fully fleshed out, and what they do in this story is not based on canon.

This is a sequel to my one of my previous stories, Going Home. This isn't even the entire Enterprising Wedding story, actually. I decided the only way I'm going to get this sucker off my hands, and inspire me to keep writing was to break it up into a trilogy...or just a two-parter if I'm really lucky. So this is part 1 in The Enterprising Wedding saga.

Actually, this was written before Jeri Taylor's novel Pathways was published. I did change B'Elanna's mother's name from L'Mara to Prabsa. Mr. Torres's name was never revealed, but it was established that he was indeed a Starfleet officer. Ms. Taylor referred to B'Elanna's homeworld as 'Nessik', while on the show it was called Kessik. I'll be kind and chalk it up to a printing error, and continue calling her home Kessik. And of course, according to Pathways, Mr. Torres did attempt to contact B'Elanna at Starfleet Academy, but I have decided not to mention that particular tidbit.

Kes is not in this story. I did mention her in Going Home, but let's pretend she already left the ship when they found a way home.

Of Tom's family, his sisters only had one mention in this section of the story, and their names were changed from Serena and Maggie to the canon approved Kathleen and Moira. Of Tom's mother, as far as I can recollect, her name was not mentioned in the novel so I'm sticking with Madeline. Feel free to e-mail me at Ltrotsky17@hotmail.com to let me know if I somehow glossed over Mrs. Paris's name.

Yes, Libby and Harry's back story doesn't comply with Ms. Taylor's vision, but I decided to stick with my version for now.

Synopsis: After finding a wormhole and making it back to the Alpha Quadrant, the Voyager crew must readjust to life back home, and find out just how many changes took place when they went away. Kathryn Janeway and Chakotay struggle to express their feelings, and Harry Kim finds out that love of his life may not have waited as long as he had hoped. Tom and B'Elanna prepare for their wedding, and a few unexpected surprises show up along the way.

This takes place before the DS9 episode "A Call To Arms" and Voyager episode "Scorpion", the day after "Going Home", and incorporates bits from the DS9 episode "In the Cards" And of course, after Star Trek: First Contact. However, I do assume that the Paris/Torres relationship has proceeded further then it had in Scorpion, and refer to some fourth-season episodes. (I.E. Chakotay's cousin in Ohio is from Message In A Bottle, and the fact that they (P&T) are actually a couple from Day of Honor, Revulsion, and Scientific Method)

Prologue

Captain Janeway's Personal Log

I have contacted Starfleet Headquarters, and after many surprised reactions and countless debates, they have agreed not to press charges against the Maquis members of the crew. I had a hard time arguing that point, not because I felt that the Maquis should go to prison, but because I had stopped thinking of my crew as Starfleet and Maquis quite a while ago.

Starfleet also agreed that my crew deserves a little shore leave in a familiar environment-so we will stay here at Deep Space Nine for a week before heading to Earth. However, when we do go to Headquarters, it won't be on Voyager. Starfleet is determined to make sure nothing happens to the ship, it will be run through a particle analyzer before it is allowed in space again. The ship designers are very eager to find out how Voyager was able to make it through almost four years with out any maintenance at a Federation Starbase. Another ship will be dispatched to deliver my crew and myself to Starfleet Headquarters.

In my opinion, they can run Voyager through as many tests as they want, but I will, personally, always think that it was because of B'Elanna Torres that the ship managed as long as it did. Sometimes I wonder what possessed me to resist when Chakotay suggested B'Elanna for the position in the first place.

*************

Harry Kim was feeling extremely boxed in at the moment. Chakotay and Neelix were standing to either side of him, making him stand with his back against the wall-blocking off any chance of escape he might have had. "Really, I don't know anything," he said, trying to believe what he meant. *I don't know anything, I don't know anything* he chanted in his head. It didn't work. Harry was a lot of things, but a good liar was not one of them, as his mother had so often told him.

"Harry, Harry, Harry," said Chakotay, in deliberate imitation of Tom. "You're his best friend. You're her best friend. You have to know why we were all gathered here." He crossed his arms and waited expectantly.

"It can't be too special," put forth Neelix, thoughtfully rubbing his spotted chin. "After all, when I offered to make my special pleeka rinds and grub meal stew, they refused, and insisted on replicated food. If they didn't want me to, it's obviously not a very important occasion."

The exec and Operations officers of Voyager just rolled their eyes at the contorted syllogism, although Neelix didn't see the gesture. No one on Voyager had had the heart to tell bubbly, perpetually cheerful Neelix, self proclaimed morale officer, that his Delta Quadrant delicacies didn't match their Alpha Quadrant tastes, and probably never would.

"Tom and B'Elanna aren't the 'party' types, Neelix," explained Chakotay. "They wouldn't invite us all here if it wasn't something important. Ensign Kim can confirm that, can't he?" His use of rank didn't escape Harry's notice.

"Wouldn't you like to talk about something else?" tried Harry, wracking his brain for another, safer subject. "Did I tell you about Libby? She's coming out on a transport ship, and she'll be here tomorrow-"

"Ensign, stop changing the subject," ordered Chakotay, putting his best command face on. "I order you to tell me." He watched, secretly amused, as the young man squirmed uncomfortably.

"I would...but you see...B'Elanna threatened to rip off my arms and stuff them down my throat if I told anybody before she did." His hand drifted up to his shoulder and he squeezed the muscle. "And I don't know about you, but it's really hard to work on the computer with out my arms."

"Why didn't you say so?" Chakotay backed away a few steps, and Harry let out a sigh of relief which was neatly covered up by the sound of Kathryn Janeway's foot steps.

"Commander, have you resorted to bullying ensigns?" she asked, observing the scene. Her lips twitched upward, and Chakotay's mouth turned into a half moon shape too. Their eyes met, and suddenly, both Neelix and Harry felt as if they should be in another room-or perhaps back in the Delta Quadrant.

"It's a dirty job, but someone has to do," shrugged the first officer.

"It appears your can desist with your...dirty job," spoke up Tuvok, who had been observing the trio of officers from a corner. "Our hosts have arrived."

They immediately took their places at the round table set up in the corner of the restaurant. Kathryn, Chakotay, Tuvok, Harry and Neelix sat with their backs against the wall, while the remaining two seats were set up in front of them. They were only vacant a few moments before B'Elanna, wearing an flattering black dress, and Tom wearing a white shirt with black pants, slid into them.

"Good, you're all here," observed Tom, picking up a small data padd laying in front of him; the menu. "What would you like to order? Or did you already order?"

B'Elanna smiled in malicious delight as she saw everyone's mouths (except for Tuvok) of course, drop open. "I know it's a long time since you've all been in a Bajoran restaurant, so perhaps you'd like me to order? I know some great delicacies."

"Aren't you even going to tell us what all this is about?" asked Neelix, looking perplexed. He had never quite understood this brand of human (with a touch of Klingon) humor. "Commander Chakotay seemed eager to find out, and so am I."

"I just thought you might like to have something to eat first." B'Elanna raised her arm to flag the waiter, but Tom gently pushed it back down.

"I think we'd better tell them before we get sentenced to scrubbing the plasma conduits with a toothbrush." Tom looked down at the menu. "Although some nice-"

"Tom," said Kathryn in a voice loaded with meaning. It was that "tell me now or else" tone.

The helmsman let out a phony sigh of reluctance and turned to his companion. "You or me?"

"Go ahead," B'Elanna nodded.

"It's nothing too important," began Tom, only to be interrupted by Neelix's smug," I told you."

"Um, right," said Tom, sounding slightly baffled. "I just thought you would all like to know that B'Elanna and I...are engaged."

There was a long silence around the table, except for Harry who was mumbling to himself about the choices on the carte du jour. He had known since yesterday night when an excited Tom had barged into the quarters of a soundly sleeping Harry Kim to announce his engagement. "I think that's pretty important," said Neelix, his eyes wide. "This is wonderful news! Congratulations to both of you." He tried to give them each a hug, but over the table it was hard to do, and he settled for shaking their hands.

"Congratulations, Lieutenants," said Tuvok. "It is only logical that you have finally decided to proceed with the next step in your relationship. I am sure Ensign Julia Gabrelta will be very pleased."

"Gabrelta, the astrophysicist? Why would she be happy?" asked B'Elanna.

"According to the gossip, she had placed a wager on the 'betting-line' as I believe it is called, on when you two would, as she put it 'tie-the-knot'."

Kathryn, Chakotay, Neelix and Harry desperately tried to school their faces so their smiles wouldn't show. They had all known about the various bets placed long ago, but the gossip mill had done a exceptional job of concealing the it from the engineer.

"I don't believe this," muttered B'Elanna darkly, turning an accusing glare toward her fiancé. "You knew about this, didn't you? How many bets did you place using a nom de plume?"

"B'Elanna, if I told you, I'd be persona non grata," winked Tom, putting an arm around her shoulders. "Not to mention the fact that I'd getting to know Deep Space Nine's infirmary rather well."

"Well, I for one, am very happy for you," interjected Kathryn, sensing a need to change the subject to something less volatile. "The both of you. I'd been hoping something like this would happen."

"Our captain, the closet romantic." Chakotay grinned as Janeway raised her eyebrows and shook her head in amusement. "Congratulations to both of you," he added , lacking the same amount of enthusiasm the Captain had shown. "I suppose the betting lines are going to start some on how long this engagement is going to last."

"That's right." Tom snapped his fingers, remembering. "At least now we can start betting latinum."

"Don't you dare," warned B'Elanna with a mock threatening glare.

"Yeah, otherwise you won't have enough to pay for this dinner," chimed in Harry. "We're not on Earth, you know. Mind if we ordered now?"

There were chuckles from all around the table. "Trust you to be thinking of your stomach," said Tom, knowing perfectly well that Harry was happy for him and B'Elanna. "All right, would anybody like to split the bread......"

***********

Harry wiped his mouth with a napkin, and leaned back with a sigh of contentment. "That was probably one of the greatest meals I've ever eaten."

"Now, I don't mean to be rude, but I think that this stew is lacking in some spices," confided Neelix, swirling the soup around with his spoon. "I think some leola root would do wonders with a bland dish like this."

"Mr. Neelix, after your modifications to Vulcan plomeek soup, I would suggest that leola root stay in Talaxian dishes," said Tuvok dryly.

"I suppose you're right, Mr. Vulcan. I wouldn't want these poor Bajorans to feel bad that their food doesn't meet the standards of a Talaxian," agreed the morale officer.

"So, Captain, have you contacted your family on Earth yet?" asked B'Elanna, eager to draw the conversation away from Neelix's cooking.

"Yes, in fact I did. The look on my mother's face was priceless, and my sister, Phoebe, looked like she'd seen ghost," confided Kathryn with a broad smile, remember her sister's astonished stuttering of "Kath...Kathr...oh my goodness, Mom, it's KATHRYN!"

Most starship captains didn't tell their crews much about their personal lives, Janeway had literally been on the same boat with them for several years. "I'm looking forward to having some of my mother's brownies again, not to mention some home brewed coffee."

That drew a few a laughs, for the entire crew knew about Janeway's love of coffee, and her distaste at having to drink the tar like substance Neelix claimed was even better.

Tom took a bite of his pastry and something red and gooey came flying out onto his shirt ,landing right above his heart. "Great," moaned Tom. "Another shirt ruined." He dabbed at the stain with his napkin but only succeeded in rubbing it in further.

"Good thing there's a tailor on this station," joked B'Elanna. "I think we'd better be going anyway." She stood and looked at Tom meaningfully. His face was blank. "The bill?"

"Right, right." He dug into the pocket of his trousers, and pulled out the small disposable padd that contained their bill and handed it to B'Elanna.

"You really don't have to pay for all of this," said Chakotay. "B'Elanna,--."

She held up a warning finger. "After all that money Tom won in the betting pool, I think it's only fair." She pressed her thumb print to the padd, and left it on the table for the waiter to pick up.

"Don't forget about the senior staff meeting in two days," reminded Kathryn.

"Don't worry, we won't, Captain. And Harry, don't forget to bring Libby by tomorrow," reminded B'Elanna.

"Yeah, we want to meet the woman who waited for you for three years," added Tom. "Bye everyone."

They walked away, but the second they did, they started arguing.

"Why wouldn't Libby wait for Harry?" demanded B'Elanna.

"Why would she?" countered Tom.

"Because he's smart, witty, and charming."

"Hold on a second here. No one's more charming than me."

"Really? Well, hotshot..." her voice trailed off as they left the restaurant still exchanging barbs.

"I don't know how they ever got engaged," remarked Harry, shaking his head with a grin.

***********

"Worf! He's just a friend," repeated an exasperated Lieutenant Commander Jadzia Dax.

"A friend who was an ex-lover," countered Lieutenant Commander Worf with a scowl crossing his features.

"Captain Gallahad and I are just friends now. I wouldn't cheat on you!"

"I still do not trust him. I saw the way he looked at you."

Jadzia let out an enormous sigh. "Do we have to argue about this?"

"Yes."

"Why is that we're the only couple I know that is constantly arguing?"

"We are not the only ones," pointed out Worf. He nodded toward a couple exiting the Bajoran restaurant. "Those two are also."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" The Trill let out another moan of frustration. She might as well bang her head against the wall, it actually might be more fun that arguing with a Klingon.

************

"I could never argue very long with you. I might as well bang my head against the wall for all the fun I'm having," grumbled Tom.

"Good. Arguing isn't supposed to be fun, unless you're the winner," smirked B'Elanna.

"I can think of something a lot more fun," said Tom with a gleam in his eye. "Except this time we won't be in the middle of the Promenade."

"Oh really. And whatever could that be?"

"You'll find out." Tom bent down and placed his lips on hers, his arms tightening around her slender waist.

"Making up is the best part of arguing," mumbled B'Elanna, returning his kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck

Lost in each others kisses, they didn't notice as a quartet came to a dead halt a few feet away.

"They're at it again," said Miles O'Brien, running his hand through his curly hair, trying to keep calm. He put his hands over his daughter's eyes. "Don't look sweetie, I don't want you to get the wrong idea." He glanced over his shoulder at his wife. "Aren't you going to do the same with Kirayoshi?"

"Miles, you're over reacting again. They're a young couple in love, and all their doing is kissing," hissed Keiko, shifting her baby son's position on her hip.

"Daddy, I can't see," whined Molly, squirming in her father's grasp.

"We'll use the other turbolift," said Miles, shooting another glance at the couple. "That's definitely a bad influence on Molly, I'll say. Molly, if I ever catch you doing that with a boy-"

"MILES! Our daughter is not going to become a nun-unless she wants to." Keiko managed to steer him toward the lift while he mumbled something about young people unable to stay discreet and locking Molly up in her quarters.

**********

"Tom," whispered B'Elanna, pulling away from him. "I think we scared everyone way."

"Good." He leaned in for another lip lock, but she pushed him away.

"Tom! We're in the middle of a corridor, not to mention the fact that you're getting that red stuff on your shirt onto my dress!"

He examined the stain on her dress with careful scrutiny. "Yes, I think we need to get you out of that dress right away," he said seriously. "Come back to my quarters, and we'll get the dress- stain right out."

"I don't think so, Tom." She resumed her journey down the hall, and Tom hurried to catch up with her with his long legged strides.

"I promise it'll be lots of fun." His eyes twinkled with roguish charm, and his double meaning was clear.

"I think we had enough fun, yesterday," B'Elanna commented with a wry face. "I am exhausted, and right now all I want to do is collapse on a bed."

"Exactly!" Tom spread his arms wide as if announcing something revolutionary. "And I have a bed in my quarters."

A Bajoran woman eyed him oddly as she passed by.

"You're going to have the entire station thinking you're a nut case if you keep this up," sighed B'Elanna. "What did I ever do to deserve this?"

"You were just lucky. Now how about it?"

"Tom, if I come back with you, I won't get any sleep at all, and we both know it." She stopped in front of the temporary quarters that had been assigned to her and keyed in the code. "But I'll see you tomorrow for breakfast, right? Just let yourself in, you have the door code."

"You're breaking my heart, B'Elanna." He mimed being stabbed in the heart, and with the red stain on his shirt it looked fairly realistic.

"I'll fix it-tomorrow. Good night." She gave him a quick kiss and ducked inside her cabin before he could say another word.

He shrugged and turned away from the door. "It was worth a shot."

"Did you say you've been shot?" A worried looking man wearing a Starfleet Medical uniform started examining him with a practiced eye.

"No, I'm fine. This is just a food stain," Tom clarified, pointing at his shirt. "I'm Tom Paris."

"I'm Doctor Julian Bashir, Chief Medical Officer of this station. I hope I didn't startle you, it's just my medical reflexes."

"No problem. It's nice to know that there's a doctor in this world that isn't constantly moaning about having to fix you up," said Tom.

"Excuse me?"

"I serve-served on Voyager, and the only doctor I've seen in a long time is the Emergency Medical Holographic program."

"I just received a report on that. All of Voyager's crew is supposed to report to the Infirmary for complete check ups," said Julian, nodding. "Would you like me to finish yours up now?"

"Aren't you off duty?"

"I regularly play darts, but my usual opponent is busy with his family at the moment, so I'm free. So what about it? I promise it won't hurt." He smiled, and Tom understood why he was a doctor. Julian had a very charming disposition. Illogical and unreasonable as it was, he was glad B'Elanna was in her quarters. Dr. Bashir looked like he was quite the ladies man.

"All right, but only if you'll let me treat you to a drink afterwards," decided Tom.

"It's a deal." They started down the corridor and Tom asked ,"Where's a good place to get a drink around here?"

"Well, there's always Quark's Bar."

"I don't think so. Quark and I didn't hit it off so well the last time I was here....."

******************

The next morning, B'Elanna dug into her scrambled orgatien eggs and chewed it with obvious relish. "Mmmm, this is wonderful. How's your soup?"

With a big slurp, Tom drained the last of his tomato soup. "Exactly the way I told the replicator. Nice, plain tomato soup. Delicious to the last drop." He smacked his lips in an exaggerated fashion, and B'Elanna frowned with displeasure.

"Don't do that."

"Do what?" asked Tom, trying to scrape the last remnants of his soup onto his spoon.

"Smack your lips. It's irritating."

He did it again, asking," That? What's so annoying about that?"

"It just is, now will you please stop it?!" demanded B'Elanna, stabbing at her eggs as if her fork was a dagger.

"It can't bug you that much."

"It can and it is. Now, will you please stop that?"

"After all this time, *now* you realize that I have vexatious eating habits?"

As they continued to debate over whether lip smacking could bother anyone, a few tables away in the replimat, another couple was too.

"Trust me, Worf, Chief O'Brien and Julian were just joking about your smelling like lilacs," said Jadzia, willing herself not to break her spoon in half.

"I have known the Chief a lot longer than you have," countered Worf with his characteristic scowl in place. "I even delivered his daughter. I think I should know when he is or is not joking."

"Worf, you don't smell like lilacs, trust me, you don't. Why do we have to argue about this? No one argues as much as we do." She heaved a sigh, and stuffed her mouth full of bread, hoping Worf would stop. He didn't get the hint.

"I disagree," rumbled Worf. He nodded to a couple, the same ones who had been exiting the Bajoran restaurant last night. "They are still fighting, as they were yesterday."

Dax turned to look at them and saw the young man with blond hair gesturing wildly with his spoon and pressing his lips together repeatedly. The woman, with Klingon ridges across her forehead looked like she wanted to take the spoon and shove it down his throat. "Those two are Lieutenants Paris and Torres from Voyager."

"Yes," agreed Worf, examining Torres with a critical eye. "That is the half-human engineer."

"So it is," nodded Dax, watching the pair out of the corner of her eye. She saw Paris put his spoon back into his bowl and crack a boyish grin at his companion. Torres grinned back and they leaned across the table to share a kiss. *Maybe there is some hope for me and Worf after all* thought Dax. *Maybe.*

At the entrance to the replimat, with perfect timing, Miles and Keiko O'Brien entered with daughter Molly and son Kirayoshi, ready to eat breakfast, only to spot the infamous duo at a corner table.

"Oh, to all the bloody goats on my uncle's farm!" muttered Miles angrily, "They're at it again!!"

"Miles, you're over reacting." Keiko took Molly from her husband, and patted him on the shoulder.

"What will this do to Molly? She'll grow up thinking that it's okay to go around necking in public!" mumbled Miles, following Keiko to a table on the other side of the room. "I'm not going to have my daughter going out in public and...." Miles kept talking to himself, and his wife heaved a sigh.

"Don't listen to your father," Keiko told her daughter. "Sometimes I think all that bio-neural gel affects his brain."

Molly just nodded solemnly, not quite understanding what was going on.

********************

"I think it's time I whisked you away," said Tom with a sparkle in his eye. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Last night, I happened to be talking to Quark-"

"Quark?"

"The Ferengi bartender. Anyway, it turns out he has a couple holosuites, so I thought we could spend a few hours in it. What do you say?"

B'Elanna thought it over for a couple seconds. "Why not?"

"I knew you'd say that." He leaped to his feet, and grabbed her hand. "Let's get going then!"

********************

While the happy couple was heading to the holo-suite, Captain Janeway was in Captain Sisko's office, reviewing the current status of the Alpha Quadrant.

"So you're saying there was a war with the Klingons?" asked Kathryn Janeway slowly, wanting to make sure she had a complete understanding of the goings on that had occurred while she'd been otherwise occupied in the Delta Quadrant.

"Yes. But the Khitomher Accords were re-instated, and now there is a solid Klingon presence around DSNine, headed by General Martok," explained Sisko, tossing his prized baseball up and down.

"That would account for all the Klingons I saw," said Kathryn thoughtfully. "And this is because the Dominion threat has gotten worse."

"An attack is expected any day now. Starfleet has been preparing for months. With the Cardassians allying themselves with the Dominion," his nose flared in anger for a moment, but he quickly covered it. "That counts out one ally. There are the Klingons, and the Romulans are with us for now, but there have been rumors that secret negotiations are being held for them to join the Founders."

"That sounds like them," agreed Kathryn. "This seems to be the worst possible time that Voyager could have found a wormhole."

"On the contrary. The Fleet could always use another ship, especially one that's already been outfitted with bio-neural technology. With a few refits, Voyager should be space worthy in no time." He replaced the baseball back on its stand. "After all, the engineers are already looking over it with a particle analyzer at Starbase 29."

Kathryn smiled faintly. "I figured as much."

The computer's feminine voice suddenly sounded. "Captain, there is one message for you."

"Display it on desk terminal," ordered Sisko. He scanned through the message quickly. "This is from Starfleet. It appears that the Enterprise is being sent to pick up you and your crew."

"The Enterprise? I thought it had been destroyed at Veridian."

"The Enterprise-E was just commissioned a year ago, with Captain Jean-Luc Picard," a brief flicker of unreadable emotion passed over his face, and smoothed away. "In command."

"I assume it's still the flagship?" At the other captain's nod, she continued," Then why is it being sent to pick up a small crew instead of helping to defend the Quadrant from an invasion by the Dominion?" Could Starfleet have changed that much in three years?

His eyes darkened a bit. "I'm sure they have their reasons. You can read the specifics in your quarters, the message was sent to you also."

Kathryn rose from her seat and extended her hand. He shook it firmly. "Admiral Hayes was right, you were the perfect person to brief me on the current situation on the Alpha Quadrant. Thank you."

"Just doing my job to the best of my ability." Benjamin Sisko answered with a smile.

*****************

Jean-Luc Picard, captain of the newest starship Enterprise, set his Earl Grey (hot) tea back on his desk and frowned at his desk terminal. "Am I to understand that the Enterprise is to be used as a ferry?"

Admiral Lucille Jablonski didn't seem to pick up on his disapproval, and if the red headed woman had, she wasn't letting on. "These aren't just any passengers, Jean-Luc. These are people who have truly gone where no one has gone before. The crew of Voyager could help change the way we approach the Delta Quadrant. And they deserve first-class treatment, with all they've been through these past few years."

"I don't dispute that fact, Lucille, but there is something more to this than you're letting on." Picard leaned forward. "The Enterprise isn't the closest ship to Deep Space Nine, for example, the Normandy is-"

"We know all that, Jean-Luc," cut in Jablonski. "Before picking up the crew of Voyager, you are also to stop at the coordinates I am about to forward and pick up several Federation delegates."

At her solemn expression, the captain could gather that this was serious. "This has something to do with the Dominion doesn't it?"

"You have your orders, Captain. I expect them to carried out." Her words said nothing, but the expression on her face told Picard he had guessed correctly. Her image disappeared, the symbol of the United Federation of Planets appearing on the screen.

"Commander Riker, report to my ready room," ordered Picard, slapping his comm badge. His bearded exec appeared in a few moments.

"Yes, sir?"

"Tell Ensign Rollins to lay in a new course. I'll forward the coordinates directly to her console. We're about to pick up some passengers."

************************

"Well, how do you like it?" asked Tom, leading his fiancee into the holo-suite above Quark's Bar. "I designed it when I thought you might need to let off some steam."

"Horrible pun, Tom. Horrible. But I love the program." There was a small Jacuzzi in the center, small wisps of steam of rising from the heated waters. There was a haze, due to all the water vapor in the room, but at the sides she could see wood paneling, two small rooms, for changing, obviously, a closet, and-most obvious of all, a bed.

"I wish you'd told me-I could have brought my bathing suit."

"Bathing suit!" Tom smiled wickedly. "I thought we'd go au natural."

"I might have actually agreed with you-but in case you haven't noticed we're on a holo-suite in a Ferengi-owned bar. How many cameras do you think he has in here?"

*************

Watching from a small monitor behind the bar, Quark slammed his fist down on the table, letting out a few curses in various languages. "How do they always know?" he demanded to no one. Morn tilted his head, halting the long monologue he was engaged in with the Bolian next to him, showing his interest in Quark's problem, but the Ferengi paid no heed. "I bet it was Rom who tipped them off!!" Leaving a few puzzled patrons, he went off in search of his ubiquitous brother, ready to box his ears.

***************

"Good point," agreed Tom. "Although it would have been nice. But if you go in the dressing room, you'll find a bathing suit waiting for you."

"You think of everything, don't you?" Without waiting for an answer, she dashed off, eager to get out of her hot and sticky uniform.

By the time she came out, Tom had already changed and was sitting in the middle. She slowly dipped her toes in, extracting her foot when the water seemed too hot. She put it back in and carefully slid in next to Tom, enjoying the feel of the warm water against her. The bubbling liquid came up to her chest, just below her shoulders. "Where did you get the idea for this program?"

"I told you about how my family and I used to move around a lot thanks to my father's job? Well, this was one of the rooms in a house we lived in when I was younger, around five. My mother would let me and my sisters play in here, and we'd make up so many stories." He smiled at the memory. "Those are some of the happy memories I have of my childhood."

"Tom.....that reminds me of something I meant to ask you. Did you talk to your father yet?" she asked hesitantly. The subject of his father was still a touchy one.

The pilot stared down at his hands which were submerged under water. "No, actually, I haven't. I've been busy, when we arrived....." his voice faded away, his meek excuses along with it.

"Were you planning on it?" It was a direct question, wanting nothing more than a yes or no answer.

His eyes met hers. "No."

She found his hand and squeezed it. "I didn't contact my mother either. Yesterday, night, I was about to, that's why I wanted to be alone, but instead, I ended up starting at the terminal for two hours, trying to work up enough nerve. But I was a weakling, and I went to bed instead."

"How about this?" suggested Tom. "I'll stay with you when you call your mother, and you'll stay with me when I talk to my father." His eyes looked at her pleadingly.

"All right. But now we have to decide who goes first."

"I think I have a way," said Tom, his smile returning. He started planting soft kisses around the base of neck, sending a tingling sensation through out her entire body.

"Stop that," ordered B'Elanna, weakly, trying to steel herself against his kisses. It didn't work, and she finally gave in. "Fine, I'll call my mother first. But you cheated!"

"I don't hear you complaining about my method," murmured Tom, working his way up her neck and caressing her bare back. All thoughts of their parents flew out of their heads as they continued on more....worth while pursuits.

***********************

Back on the Enterprise, Jean-Luc Picard finished briefing his senior staff on the little he had been told about their latest assignment.

"Voyager," mused Commander William Riker. "That name rings a bell."

"You were offered command of it, weren't you, Will?" asked Doctor Beverly Crusher, resting her chin in her hands and brushing a strand of titian colored hair out of her eyes.

"Yes. But it's strange how the second Voyager was mentioned, I thought of Q." He shrugged, and dismissed the thought. "Captain, who are these delegates we're supposed to rendezvous with in twenty-six hours?"

Picard glanced back down at his small data padd. "Ambassador Cartel, Admirals Mayson, Heyes, Schneider, Ross and Paris."

"They're pretty high up on the scale at Headquarters," remarked Chief Engineer Geordi LaForge. "It has to be something important."

"There's no point debating why we were sent out of our way to pick them up," said Picard. "I'm sure Starfleet will find an appropriate time to brief me. Counselor, I'd like you to assign them suitable quarters."

"Yes, sir." Deanna Troi nodded.

"Lieutenant Rolk," said Picard, addressing the new security chief, a young Bolian woman. "Make sure your security staff is ready. I don't anticipate any problems among the Federation diplomats or the crew of the long gone starship, but one can never too cautious."

"Aye, sir."

"Dismissed." His staff filed out, leaving him alone in the briefing room. He sat back down in his chair, and stared absently at a painting on the wall. This certainly was damned peculiar-being reduced to the service of transporting people-rather important ones, but still a ferrying service. Especially when there was the constant threat of the Dominion invasion hanging over them. The bureaucratic mind was an amazing thing.

***************

Harry led Libby up the stairs of Quark's bar, talking eagerly as he did. "I can't wait for you to meet Tom and B'Elanna, I told them all about you-did I tell you how much I missed you?"

The curly haired woman smiled up at him, and gripped his hand tightly. "Yes you did. Did I tell you how much *I* missed you?"

"Yeah, but you can keep telling me," grinned Kim. He stopped in front of the holo-suite doors, and they slid open slowly. A puff of steam hit both their faces.

"Harry, are you sure about this?" asked Libby, unsure. "This might be a private program."

"Then the privacy seal would have been on," Harry replied.

They walked through the misty haze, and it was only through quick thinking on Libby's part that Harry didn't fall right into the Jacuzzi.

In the tub, Tom and B'Elanna had been splashing each other and giggling like children, looked up in surprise. "Harry! We didn't expect to see you until later," said B'Elanna.

"I guess you were right, Libby, I should have tried calling them on my comm badge first," admitted Harry sheepishly. "But I was too eager." Politeness ingrained him since childhood, he remembered his manners and introduced," Libby, meet Tom Paris and B'Elanna Torres. Tom, B'Elanna, meet Libby."

They all exchanged pleasantries and then Libby began to apologize for their intrusion.

"It's all right," dismissed Tom. "You can do much in a holo-suite owned by a Ferengi, anyway." He looked at B'Elanna longingly. "Although sometimes it's hard to remember."

"Why don't you join us?" suggested B'Elanna. Her eyes twinkled gleefully. "Libby, I have a lot to tell you about Harry."

Harry turned red, and it wasn't from all the heat in the room. Libby grinned at B'Elanna, the two shared a smile that had sent fear into men for centuries. "I'm looking forward to hearing it."

"Just head on back." Tom pointed toward the hazy outlines of two doors in the background. "There's a whole pile of bathing suits and trunks."

As the other couple headed past, Harry knelt next to the engineer. "You're not really going to tell her anything--- are you?"

"Why, Harry." Torres tipped her head to the side and pretended to look confused. "Don't you want her to know everything about you? Like the time you fell out of a gondola on the holodeck, or all those times you died, or when you fell in love with a holo-character, or when you got taken to another reality where you never left Earth-"

"B'Elanna!" Harry was desperate.

"I'm kidding, Starfleet. Go change."

Harry hurried off, suddenly more eager to enter the steaming water.

"You are an evil woman." pronounced Tom.

"Yeah," grinned B'Elanna. "I know."

**********************

After spending quite some time regaling Libby with stories from Voyager, like the one where Harry had turned blue for several days after eating something similar to blue berries, they all left the holo-suite, wrinkled as prunes, but extremely relaxed and promised to meet the next night for dinner.

"Libby is a wonderful woman, isn't she?" asked B'Elanna as she and Tom made their way down the corridor, to her quarters.

"Sure is. But no one's more wonderful than you." He slid an arm around her waist, and planted a kiss on top of her still damp hair.

They entered the Cardassian designed quarters, and the lights came on, revealing a large room, identical to Tom's own quarters. "Treat yourself to something from the replicator, I'm going to go change," she called over her shoulder, heading into the sleeping area, already in the process of shedding her uniform.

"Two glasses of champagne," he told the replicator, and two slender glasses containing the specified beverage materialized into existence. Carefully, as not to spill anything, he carried the glasses across the room, and took a seat at the small couch, setting the champagne on the coffee table.

B'Elanna appeared, wearing a short blue shift with a matching azure robe belted around her waist loosely.

"No thanks," she declined, when Tom offered her a glass of champagne. With a sigh, she leaned her head against Tom's shoulder. "Should I really talk to my mother?"

Tom put his own flute of champagne down. Obviously, this was bothering B'Elanna more than she had let on earlier. "It's up to you."

"I haven't spoken to her...since I ran off to the Academy. She must assume that I'm an officer in Starfleet," recalled B'Elanna.

"How did you leave things with her?"

"When she found out I wanted to go to the Academy, she was furious. First, because I hadn't told her before I applied, and second, because she wanted me to become a true warrior. An honor to the House of Rajorg-my grandfather's name," she added at his questioning look. "Besides, my father was, perhaps still is, a Starfleet officer, and anything that had in anyway to do with him was banned from our house. When I left, I was barley speaking to her." She chewed on her lower lip thoughtfully. "She doesn't know what happened to me anyway-I doubt any of the Maquis would have contacted her to let her know I was missing-they wouldn't have known where to contact her anyway."

She was looking for excuses and he knew it. "I'm not going to tell you what to do. Whatever you decide is fine by me." He stroked her hair in a soothing motion.

"When we first got trapped on the other side of the galaxy, I began to regret that I'd never have a chance to settle things with her. But now that I can, I don't know if I want to anymore."

"You don't have to do anything tonight," pointed out Tom. "I'm sure there are plenty of activities to keep you distracted." He didn't realize the double meaning in his words until after they were out of his mouth.

Her lips curved upwards. "Do you have anything in mind?"

"Well, we could always go and play darts with my new friend, Julian-wait, never mind, you might fall in love and run off with him instead. There's always pool-"

"Shut up and kiss me, Paris."

"With pleasure."

************************

"Chakotay! I trust you've been having a wonderful shore leave?" asked Kathryn as she saw him step through the door way into the briefing room that Captain Sisko had happily loaned her. She tossed the padds containing messages from Headquarters onto the smooth table surface. She tugged irritably at the collar of her uniform. "It seems to me that every time they redesign these uniforms, they always find a new place to pinch you."

"Lucky for me, I'll have to turn in my comm badge and uniforms in a few days," said Chakotay, taking a seat to her left. "I am supposed to be officially resigned from Starfleet."

"Don't tell me you're joining the Maquis again." Her eyes fixed onto him. "At this point, it wouldn't seem to do much good, with the Cardassians allied with the Dominion."

"No, I'm not, Kathryn. To be truthful, I'm not sure what I'm going to do now. Even my spirit guide hasn't been able to give me any answers." He smiled, a touch of sorrow in his voice. "But you-you're the Captain who managed to bring her crew home despite the insurmountable odds. You were willing to do anything, and you succeeded. Your name will go down in history along with Captains Kirk, Garret, Pike, April and all the rest."

"I would never have been able to do any of it without my crew-and you. I'm going to tell Starfleet that my recommendation is that they try to get out to come out of retirement. With the very real threat of the Dominion lurking just beyond the wormhole, I think the Fleet's going to be begging people to join the service. Don't tell me you haven't thought it, Chakotay."

"I don't think so, Kathryn," he declined.

"Chakotay, you are every captain's dream of a first officer. You're patient, very intelligent, didn't try to obstruct me when I beamed down on an occasional away mission, you're an excellent pilot and best of all," her voice lowered," you build wonderful bathtubs."

His dimples flashed. "Thank you. It's nice to know I fit the most important quality of a first officer."

"Honestly, I think you're fit for your own command. I'm sure the former Maquis members of Voyager would agree, although you won't be able to say that you commanded a Maquis vessel on your resume."

"I'll think about it," promised Chakotay, a pensive look in his dark eyes. "That's all I can say for now."

As if on cue, the other senior officers entered the room, taking up positions around the table.

"You're all here, good," began Janeway. "Starfleet contacted me yesterday. It appears that our ride to Earth will be on the Enterprise-E, under the command of Jean-Luc Picard." Captain Janeway had met the famous captain on a few occasions, one at a briefing about the Q-Continuum, where he was the guest speaker, and one at a conference about the Borg, where he was also the guest speaker, along with his first officer William Riker and Doctor Beverly Crusher. Riker, whom she'd met back in the Academy, had come up with a way to defeat the Borg at Wolf 359, and Crusher had figured out how to remove the Borg implants, something that had sent Starfleet Medical into a tizzy. Picard, of course, had been the Borg leader, Locutus.

There were exclamations of surprise from all around the table. She held her hand up to silence them. "The Enterprise will stop and pick up a few passengers, and then stop by at DS Nine to collect us. It's not the closest ship in range, but what Starfleet wants is done. Our plans have changed, and the Enterprise should be here tomorrow, at 18:00 hours. They'll take us back to San Francisco, where we will go to Starfleet Headquarters. We'll have to issue statements on what events transpired that led us to the Delta Quadrant, and after that, we'll have to elaborate on the events described in our logs. And after that, we'll be free to go, the Starfleet officers being allowed to take extended vacations or be assigned to another ship, the Maquis, whatever they want. Is that clear?"

Affirmative nods came from all around the table. "Then that's it. You're all dismissed."

"Too bad all our briefings couldn't have been that short," she heard Tom mumble to himself on his way past her. Typical Paris remark, she thought to herself with a small smile. It faded away when she thought of another Paris, the Admiral. He must have heard that Voyager was back. Had he contacted his son? Had Tom contacted him? She didn't want to intrude on Tom's personal life, but the questions nagged her. Her opinion of Admiral Owen Paris, while he had been her mentor at the Academy, had been very high. The way he had boasted about Tom made her jealous, ashamed as she was to admit it now. But from what she knew of the Admiral from Tom's perspective, he hadn't been as kind or loving as she'd thought. She pushed the thoughts away. The internal workings of the Paris family were none of her concern. A captain was supposed to maintain a discreet distance between herself and her crew.

Especially when this particularly captain had her own problems to deal with concerning her former lover, Mark.

*******************

Almost exactly 26 hours since the last briefing on the Enterprise, Picard, Riker and Troi stood in Transporter Room 4, waiting for the delegates to finish materializing. In an instant the forms of Ambassador Morton Cartel, and Admirals Ilene Mayson, Louise Heyes, Rebecca Schneider, Arthur Ross and Owen Paris appeared on the platform.

"Ambassador, Admirals, it's good to see you all," greeted Jean-Luc, extending a hand. Riker and Troi followed, and each officer shook each of the delegates' hands.

"Only a pity this isn't a pleasure trip," said Ross, a smile creasing his face. "I was looking forward to taking a trip on the Fleet's new flagship. A chance to see all the new designs."

"The engineer in you still talking, eh," remarked Morton Cartel in an amused voice.

"Oh come on," huffed Louise Heyes, poking Cartel in the ribs. "You can't tell me that when you pass by the sickbay, you don't want to poke your head in and see the latest developments, and grumble about back in your day, you didn't have all that glorified equipment."

Deanna was surprised at the ease with how they joked with one another, but as she recalled, they had served with each other on the Endeavor for quite a few years together, so it really was no surprise. Everyone seemed to push aside their unease about whatever they had been discussing at the conference that had been held on Maliya IV, and concentrate on the more positive aspects of life. With the exception of one. Admiral Paris. He stood slightly apart from the others, his posture more rigid, distancing him physically and emotionally from the bantering that was going on around him. She stepped a bit closer to him. "Admiral, are you ill?"

Paris looked up with a start. "Thank you, Counselor Troi, but I'm fine."

"I would have thought you'd be delighted," remarked Deanna, casually. "After all, Voyager has returned, and your son along with it." The reaction she got from his was hardly the one she had expected. Waves of almost tangible shock and surprise rose from him, despite only a minimum change in his facial expression. So he hadn't known.

"How did that happen?" asked the Admiral, recovering from his surprise remarkably fast.

"It's a rather complicated explanation, sir. Perhaps you'd better call up the report Captain Janeway sent to Headquarters," answered Troi, still looking at him with a curious expression. One would have thought that he would be feeling the least bit happy, but she could sense nothing from him. "Or, of course, you could wait for another day until the crew of Voyager is aboard."

"They're coming on board," repeated Owen. "Thank you, Counselor," he said, but it didn't sound like he meant it very much.

***********************

"I'm going to do it," announced B'Elanna, pacing around Tom's quarters like a caged animal. "I'm going to get on that computer and call her right this minute." She continued making rounds of the room, picking up odds and ends and eyeing them as if she'd never seen them before

"It might help if you're actually in front of the computer," suggested Tom gently.

"Right, right." She took a seat in the chair at the desk, but was up and pacing in a few seconds. "I will do it, I will," she mumbled under her breath. She paced a little longer, and then finally plopped down on the chair, wrapping her legs around the chair legs so she wouldn't be able to get up. "Tom...I know I said I wanted you here, but I think I'd better do this by myself. You've never seen two Klingons arguing-and things can get a little heated."

"Whatever you want," said Tom. He kissed her on the cheek, and went into the other room. He could always use the free time to start working on a new holo-program. Besides, watching B'Elanna argue with her mother would bring back painful memories of his many disagreements with his father.

B'Elanna closed her eyes and tried to focus. Images and sounds where swirling in her head and she wanted to sort them all out. Finally, she reopened them and entered the number into the terminal that would connect her with Kronos, and then her mother's place of residence on her ancestral grounds.

*I can do it. She's my mother, I lived with for almost twenty years.* she told herself. And that was the last thing she thought before her mother's visage appeared before her, leaving her staring at the screen blankly.

****************

*I can do this* Kathryn told her self. *I can.* Then why were her fingers tapping out random patterns on her thighs?

Clenching her hands into fists so they couldn't move, and hiding them out of range, she continued staring at the computer screen with a frozen smile plastered across her face.

She didn't *have* to talk to Mark. Who was she kidding? Yes she did. She had know Mark since they were both kids and she considered him to be the vulkiest thing in the entire Solar system.

He had helped through a lot of rough times, like when she had lost her father and fiancé, Justin. It would be cowardly not to talk to him.

But it would be so much easier.

When his familiar face appeared, she suddenly remembered the day they had last talked. Many things had changed since then, oh so many.

"Kathy!" Mark looked thrilled. "Starfleet told me you were back, but I wasn't sure if I should call you are not!"

"Hello, Mark." As she heard his bubbly chatter, she was suddenly reminded why she'd love him so much.

"You're a hero, Kathy. Starfleet didn't give me the specifics, but I know you must have faced some pretty tough things on your way back. That's what I always loved about you, your determination-although your stubborn streak" he rambled on, but the captain wasn't paying too much attention.

*You're a hero.* Chakotay had said the same thing. How was she going to tell Mark about Chakotay? Was there even anything to tell? She wasn't sure. She was attracted to him, that was for sure, but was it serious? Did he have the same feelings for her? *Yes, he does*, the thought came unexpectedly. But Mark loved her, he probably would have proposed if she hadn't gotten flung to the other side of the galaxy. Then again, Chakotay had been by her side for three years, with casual conversation, an occasional back rub, that wonderful dimpled smile of his.....her thoughts became jumbled, and suddenly she heard Mark's persistent voice calling," Kathy? Kathryn, are you there?"

"Yes, I'm sorry, what did you say?" asked Janeway, embarrassed at having been distracted that easily by thoughts of Chakotay.

But Mark knew her much too well. "There's someone else, isn't there?"

There was no point in denying it now. "Yes, there is," said Kathryn, hesitantly. Even if she and Chakotay didn't proceed any further in a relationship, she couldn't go back to Mark. Not after everything that had happened. "Mark...I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to happen...."

"Nobody ever intends to fall in love, Kathy. It just does. I just hope whoever you're with loves you as much as I do." His eyes reflected sorrow, but he still had that small smile on his face.

"But there must be someone else in your life too," said Kathryn Janeway, not wanting to see him like this. "You must have thought I was dead for almost three years."

"The only female in my life is one named Molly. And she's your dog." He turned sideways and let out a whistle. A small furry figure came flying through the air and landed on his lap and started licking his face eagerly.

"Molly," whispered Kathryn, her eyes transfixed on the screen. Her dog turned and sniffed the air, as if trying to catch her scent over subspace. Molly let out a tentative bark, unsure of whom it was.

"You kept her this long?"

"You know she was about to have puppies before you left-and when I got word that there had been no contact from Voyager, and Starfleet had marked you and your crew missing in action, presumed dead, Molly was the only tangible reminder I had of you. I couldn't give her away, even if she did shed hair all over my rugs." Mark rubbed the top of the little dog's head, and let her go. She scampered off.

"I'll give her back to you, of course-"

"No, Mark, you keep her. I doubt she remembers me anyway. Please," she added at his uncertain look.

"All right. Look, Kathy, I have an appointment, I'm afraid I can't talk any longer."

She put her fingers to her lips to blow him a kiss, but caught herself just in time. "Goodbye...Hobbes." She couldn't bring herself to call him Mark anymore. Mark was the name of her lover. Hobbes, his middle name, the one she'd known him by since they were children, was the name of her friend. And that's all he was to her now. A good friend.

"Goodbye, Kathy," said Mark, softly, and the link was broken, the screen returning to black.

She took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to ease the funny feeling in the pit of her stomach, the one she always got when something was ending, and a new part of her life was about to begin.

*****************

Tom didn't mean to eavesdrop on his fiancee's conversation. But since the cabin was silent, her voice carried rather well, and he didn't make much of an effort not to listen. "Nuqneh, SoS," he heard B'Elanna say.

"Nuqneh, puqbe'," came a surprised, unfamiliar feminine voice. His future mother-in-law, Prabsa Torres, no doubt. "Il ghaj wej jatlh cho meh nem. Nuqjalthy DaH, Beylana?" We haven't spoken in years. What do you want, B'Elanna? Simple, direct, typically Klingon.

B'Elanna's voice dropped, and he couldn't make out some of the words. "...roj, SoS." Coming to make peace, mother. The rest of the words were spoken too fast for him to comprehend, but he caught the word marriage among the end.

"tlhogh? Bang?" Marriage, to whom? demanded Prabsa.

"...human....Thomas Paris...DeghwI.," were the only words the pilot could discern in the rapid fire babble of words.

"Human!" The displeasure in Prabsa's voice cut through the air like a scythe. "ChaH ghaj ghobe' guvmoH!."

"I do too have honor," muttered Tom, bristling at her tone of voice.

"Val! Humans Seng!," Prabsa insisted. If humans were trouble, what would Klingons be classified as?

The few words he picked out got him the gist of B'Elanna's retort. "Wij vav...human...SoH nay ghaH....raj puqbe'....quv'Ha ghach." My father is human, am I dishonorable too?

"Nej nuqjalth ghaj!" Look what happened to him, shot back Prabsa, avoiding the honor issue completely.

"....Ha' legh SoH....puS Hogh...." came B'Elanna's stiff sounding voice. I'll come to see you in a few weeks.

"....wejpuH, vaj DuQ qIp..'uch....taj....los..vaj..." He will be charming, then stick a dagger in you....until then, were Prabsa's last words, and a sharp click was all he heard, meaning the line was disconnected.

Waiting for a few moments, and hearing only silence, he cautiously stuck his head into the other room. "B'Elanna, are you all right?"

She lifted her head up from her hands looking extremely fatigued. "I'm fine. It's just so frustrating to talk to her. She's determined not to let me marry you, insists that all humans-"

"Are dishonorable," finished Tom. "I recall that part of the conversation."

"You know what the most ironic part of this whole thing is? You're more interested in Klingon customs and traditions then I ever was, and ever will be. I wouldn't be surprised if she decided to disown me, and adopt you as her son and heir. And marry you off to some Klingon woman." She cracked a grin. "Although what that woman would see in you, I have no idea."

"Probably whatever you see in me....which is..." he prompted.

"Your money-wait, you don't have any. Your good looks-no, you don't have any of that-your body-I've seen better," B'Elanna pretended to think it over. "You know, I don't know why I'm marrying you anyway."

He mock scowled, and she laughed. "Are we really going to go see her?" he asked.

"My mother? I didn't think you'd want to come along. She might hire someone to challenge you to a duel, or she might do it herself. She's quite the expert with the bat'leth, you know," B'Elanna told him.

"Hey, maybe she can show me some pointers," said Tom. "Since you aren't very interested. You did try to decapitate me."

She rolled her eyes. They sat in silence for a while, B'Elanna with a contemplative look on her face, and Tom with a puzzled one, trying to figure out what B'Elanna was trying to figure out.

"Tom....what would you say about getting married right away?"

"What? We just got engaged!"

"I know. But neither of us is really big on huge celebrations. And even though we haven't discussed it, I thought we'd only have our closest friends at the ceremony." B'Elanna seemed to be getting more enthusiastic. "And if we get married right away, we won't have to worry about cold toes-"

"That's cold feet," corrected Tom.

"Cold feet, right. Anyway, we wouldn't have to worry about that. I love you, and you love me, right?"

"Of course I do, otherwise I wouldn't' have asked you to marry me, but isn't this a little sudden?" asked Tom looking bewildered.

"We don't have to decide now. We have a couple more weeks."

"If we get married, what will this prove to your mother? And why are we getting married just to prove something to your mother anyway?"

"We're not getting married just to prove something to her-that's a bonus. It will prove to her that you love me, that you're not just stringing me along on a promise of marriage." She came over and sat next to him on the couch. "According to Klingon tradition, we already *are* married, we'd just have to make it more official by taking the Oath. But I don't care about the ceremony. As long as it's not Betazoid, I'm happy."

Tom considered all of this carefully. "Give me some time to think it over, all right? You know I love you, but I want to have some time to convince you to go for a Betazoid wedding." He leered at her with a comical look on his face.

She kissed him. "This is why I'm marrying you. You're impulsive-but not too impulsive. You think things over-most of the time anyway."

"Are you sure it isn't for my lust and envy inspiring physique?" asked Tom, showing off a bicep.

"How about an arm wrestle, Mr. Muscle-Man?" suggested B'Elanna, propping up an elbow on the coffee table.

He grasped her hand in his. "One, two, three, go!" He'd only been pushing for two seconds when there was a sudden whoomph! And his hand slammed against the smooth, shiny surface of the table.

"I guess I'm the one with the lust and envy inspiring physique, hmm?" grinned B'Elanna, getting back to her feet.

"You didn't have to break my hand to tell me that," moaned Tom, wringing his hand in feigned pain.

"Awww, poor baby," cooed B'Elanna in her most sarcastic voice. "Want me to kiss it and make it feel all better?"

"That would be nice," sniffled Tom, trying to get a fake tear to trickle down his cheek.

B'Elanna kissed his palm, and looked back up at him. "Is that all better?"

Tom pretended to ponder the question. "Now that you mention it, there's been this strange feeling in my lips..."

She leaned up and brushed his lips with hers, a grin gracing her face. "If I had known being a doctor would be this fun, I might have changed professions a long time ago."

"Dr. Torres I think I need some more of your ministrations." The pilot waved a hand over his face. "My entire face is going a little numb..."

***********************

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: FATHERS

On the Klingon home world, an irate Prabsa Torres jabbed at the communications terminal, letting the console deal with the brunt of her anger.

"Was that her?" An eager voice, filled with anticipation, spoke up from the shadows of the living room. "You should have let me talk to her!"

"You are a dishonorable coward-do you think she'll simply accept that you are suddenly back in her life?" Prabsa demanded. "She did not adjust well when you left- "

"We've been over that, Prabsa. You know I had to leave! It wasn't my decision!" the human shouted, his fiery temper reaching it's bursting point. "She is my daughter!"

"She stopped being your daughter the moment you broke The Oath-the moment that I could wear my *jinaq* once more!" Prabsa retorted, growling at her former mate, baring her teeth with the ferocity her race was well known for.

Torres managed to bring his temper under control, and when he spoke, his voice was level. "I'm not going to argue with you, Prabsa. Just *tell* me--how is she? How is my Little Bee?"

"She is getting married to some pathetic human," spat out his former wife. "B'Elanna and her human mate will be coming soon. *You* will not be here to see them."

"The hell I won't," said Torres, the determination that had attracted her to him in the first place radiating from his chestnut eyes. "It's time I started making up for lost time, and not you, not anyone, is going to stop me from seeing my little girl."

*******************

Admiral Owen Paris sat in his assigned quarters on the Enterprise, staring bleakly at the padd containing Kathryn Janeway's report. It was just as Counselor Troi had said, they were back.

More importantly, Tom was back.

His son.

*My son* he thought scornfully. *I haven't thought of him like that in a long time* After the news that Voyager was lost had reached him, he had sworn to himself that he would no longer think about Tom. He had disowned him right after Caldik Prime, so he had no son.

But that didn't ease the guilt. Not one bit. At nights, he couldn't sleep wondering if Tom still hated him, and knowing deep down that his son had every right to.

It had been his fault that Tom had gotten such a long sentence in the New Zealand Penal colony, he had made sure that Tom would spend much more time than necessary. Because he was angry at what Tom had done to the Paris family name. At how he had disappointed *him*.

That's what the whole thing had really been about, hadn't it? All about him, the Admiral who had to make sure his prestigious family name would continue. It wasn't until now he realized how much pressure he'd put on Tom to join Starfleet. If he hadn't pushed Tom so much, always trying to make him better than he already was, he wouldn't have been under so much pressure to keep his record spotless. He wouldn't have falsified his report, and the penalties would have been much less severe. Hell, maybe the whole Caldik Prime incident would never have even occurred.

*What am I going to do about it now?* From Janeway's report, Tom had become an outstanding officer, one that any father would and should be proud of.

Admiral Paris wanted to forgive Tom. He did.

But would his son forgive him?

**********************

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: THE CLYTEMNESTRA COMPLEX

Ensign Harry Kim and Libby stopped in front of the large view port that offered a wide view of the stars. As people of various races bustled by, intent on going about their business, Harry realized he'd never been happier in his life-at least, not for the past three years or so. The twosome stayed in companionable silence for some time, just enjoying the fact that they were together after so long. It was Libby who finally broke the silence

"Harry...there's something I need to tell you."

"Go ahead," encouraged Harry, smiling at the woman he loved. In his euphoric joy, he didn't register Libby's uncertain tone of voice.

"There's someone else you should know about."

And just like that, time ground to a halt for Harry Kim. His Adam's apple clogged up his throat, preventing the air from reaching his lungs. He could see every motion Libby made with precise clarity; the slight twitch of her eye, her pupils scanning his face. "You...y-y-yo-yo...you...met someone?" stammered out the flustered man.

Libby's eyes widened as she suddenly understood how it must have sounded to him. "No! That's not what I meant at all!" she protested, wishing she could just blurt out the information. *But what I have to say is a lot worse...*

"Is that the Kai of Bajor," she exclaimed abruptly with what she hoped what genuine sounding surprise. *What am I doing? I should just tell him! Not talk about the spiritual leader of Bajor!*

Harry blinked in bewilderment at the abrupt switch in topic, and glanced over to where an older Bajoran woman was looking down at the Promenade with Captain Sisko. "I guess so---Captain Sisko is supposed to be their Emissary, he being the first one through the wormhole."

Libby nodded as if that were the most fascinating thing she'd ever heard. *Tell him now before I lose my nerve!* she screamed silently. Maybe she should lead up to it gradually. Yes, that might work. "Harry, have you ever---" *To hell with working up to it*

"Harry, I was married and I have a son."

If Harry Kim has been stunned before, that was nothing compared to what he felt now that Libby had confessed to having been married-married---and having a child-a child!

"No, this is a joke," Harry determined, backing away a few steps. "You're going to tell me this was all a big joke to play on gullible old Harry, and then we're going to go meet Tom and B'Elanna and have a nice dinner, and that everything's fine." He kept moving backwards, and accidentally bumped into a young Ferengi in a Starfleet Academy uniform. "I'm sorry," Harry apologized, still moving away from Libby like she had contracted the bubonic plague.

"Perfectly all right, sir," said the Ferengi, straightening up because Kim was his superior officer. The cadet moved on, resuming a heated conversation with his companion, a tall human male. "He's crazy-a cellular entertainment center?" Harry heard the Ferengi exclaim as he hurried away.

"Dr. Geiger has the card, and it's not like he wants us to do anything dangerous," insisted the dark skinned male. Their voices faded from earshot, and Kim had nothing else to listen to but Libby's frantic voice.

"Harry, please, let me explain," she pleaded, ignoring the strange looks people were giving her. "I thought you were dead. Starfleet insisted you were missing in action, presumed dead. Everyone told me I should move on with my life. If I had known-"

"Who was it?" he asked sharply, a little more harshly than he'd intended.

Libby's fingers reached up and tangled themselves into her mass of curly hair, something she only did when she was extremely nervous, panicked, or frightened. It was not an encouraging sign. She mumbled something under her breath-a quick prayer, a plea for help, maybe, and then looked Kim straight in the eye, an action that took a tremendous amount of will power in it self. "I-I-was married to Danny."

His customarily milky skin turned even paler, and Harry said in a voice choked with fury," Danny? Danny BIRD? Daniel Bird, MY BEST FRIEND all through elementary school and the Academy? *That* Danny?" The Ensign's voice rose in pitch at every syllable. "My best friend married my fiancée. This is like something out of a holo-novel!" His body shook with the wrath of betrayal. "What, he's not here with you? Here to rub it in my face?"

A crowd was beginning to develop around them, full of inquisitive populace wanting to know what all the commotion was about. Libby spotted several Bajoran security officers coming toward them, and she pleaded frantically," Harry, please, maybe we should discuss this in private-"

"There is nothing else to discuss, *Clytemnestra*," he bellowed furiously, his complexion turning blotchy red. He spun around to face the bevy of people watching. "What, haven't you seen a man betrayed by his fiancee before?" yelled Harry, shoving his way through the throng with a vengeance. He strode away, Libby's pleas falling on deaf ears.

The Bajoran security officers began to retreat back to their posts, seeing that the crowd was dismantling. Half of them retreated glaring at Libby and muttering things like "How could you do something like that", the other half seemingly sympathetic and telling her ,"He's just a spoiled 'Fleet brat, you deserve better." Soon they were all gone, leaving Libby all alone-in more ways than one.

*************

"Jean-Luc, you are going to put down that report and come with me this instant."

Captain Picard looked up from the padd he was reading at the hands-on-hip form of Doctor Beverly Crusher. "Kidnapping a Starfleet officer is a crime, Beverly," he said, blowing across his cup to cool the earl grey tea. "I don't think you want a blotch on your nearly spotless record."

The strawberry blonde crossed the ready room in quick strides and stood before his desk. "I can risk it. As your chief medical officer, I have deemed that you have spent far too much time holed up in your ready room over the past month. It's time for a break, Captain."

One of Picard's most valued assets was that he was a brilliant strategist. And this particular scenario didn't seem to have an escape route. He knew when he was licked. Lifting his hands in surrender, he rose from his desk, automatically reaching down to tug at his tunic. "What did you have in mind?"

Crusher smiled in approval. "I thought you'd accompany me to the holodeck to watch a staging of one of the original productions of "A Christmas Carol"."

"One of my favorites," Jean-Luc remarked. "Perhaps it-"

"Bridge to Captain Picard," broke in Riker's voice.

"What is it, Number One?"

"We just received a distress call from a Tagki freighter. They have a hull breach, warp engines are off-line, and life support is failing. The Centaur and Enterprise are the only starships that can reach them in time, but the Centaur was performing maintenance checks, and-"

"Yes, I get the point, Commander. Set a course for the freighter, Warp 8. I'll be there in a moment."

"Aye, sir. Riker out."

"Beverly," Picard said, turning to the doctor," I am sorry about this, but..."

"Duty calls," completed Crusher. "I understand. But one of these days, Jean-Luc..."

"To the holodeck. I give you my word, we'll get to there sometime soon." He touched her on the shoulder and they both headed toward the Bridge.

*********************

While Ensign Kim stormed away from the woman who'd just broken his heart, on the habitat ring, Captain Janeway was trying to think of what she wanted to say when she met Chakotay for dinner later that evening.

"Chakotay...I've known you for a long time, and I think that-no, that doesn't work." Kathryn rejected another approach and took a deep breath to focus. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, she began again. "Chakotay, I ended things with Mark and I think we should give some serious consideration to--." She broke off in the middle of her sentence with a frustrated noise. "I need something direct," Janeway told herself as she ran a brush through her newly shortened locks. Getting a haircut hadn't been something she'd planned on, but after her conversation with Mark, she felt like she'd gotten a chance at a whole new start on life-and that included her hair. It had felt good trying something new, even though it'd taken the hairdresser five minutes to convince her to go through with it.

"You have an incoming message," blared the computer.

"From whom?" Janeway asked, moving toward the desk terminal.

"Captain Picard of the USS Enterprise," the computer informed her.

"That's a surprise," she mumbled, switching on the desk monitor. And, indeed, filling the screen was the sculptured face of Jean-Luc Picard. "Captain Picard, this is an unexpected pleasure," Janeway greeted.

"Likewise, Captain Janeway. Unfortunately, I'm afraid the news I have to deliver isn't all good."

Kathryn tensed ever so slightly. "Something with the Dominion?"

"Nothing quite so serious," assured Picard. "The Enterprise picked up a distress call from a Tagki freighter. We'll be escorting them to Starbase 375, so we won't be able to make it to Deep Space Nine until," he consulted a padd sitting next to him," two days from now."

"I'm sure my crew won't mind a little more R&R," smiled Janeway. "Don't worry about the delay, Captain, it's no bother at all. I'll see you in two days then."

"Two days," Picard nodded. "I have a lot of questions to ask about your...voyage into the other side of the galaxy. I've been reading some of Voyager's log entries, and I noticed you had an encounter with Q?"

"Two, actually," Janeway corrected. She leaned back in her chair and heaved a sigh. "They were...interesting." She thought back to Q's second visit, and his request that she be the mother of his child, and realized that 'interesting' was an understatement. "When he first appeared, I reread all the Enterprise's logs...Q was quite fond of mentioning you..."

And the two captains ended up discussing Q for a long time-while somewhere else in the vast void that was the universe, Q himself was grinning and saying," I think it's time I paid a visit to my two favorite captains..."

*************

Harry Kim wasn't exactly sure *how* he'd ended up situated in Quark's bar, pouring out his life story to a large man named Morn. He wasn't certain of how many drinks of Saurian Brandy he'd had. He also wasn't sure of how many Dabo girls he'd made a pass at. Or know how high his bar bill was getting. But even if he had known-Kim wouldn't have cared in the slightest.

Harry had broken up with girlfriends before, true. But Libby was more than just his girlfriend, than his fiancée or lover. She was his best friend-had been ever since they'd both been kids. Libby was his confidante, his rock of Gibraltar, a constant in a life that was constantly fluctuating with new and unpredictable variables.

He had met Libby through the high-school tutoring program when they'd both been freshman. Harry had seen her in the halls before, but thought she wouldn't be interested in a little freshman like him when there were upper class men vying for her attention. He had learned differently when he started to help her in mastering the basics of biology. The night before a big test she confessed that she didn't really need help in biology, but couldn't think of any other way to actually talk to him. That had been a start of a love affair he thought nothing could end.

Except being stuck in the Delta Quadrant and having your oldest and dearest friend move in on your fiancée.

"Who needs women," mumbled Kim, taking a huge swallow of the liquor Quark had placed in front of him.

"There nothing but trouble," Quark agreed as he wiped the bar with a dish rag. His eyes seemed to gleam with the thought of all the latinum he was squeezing out of the broken hearted ensign. "More whiskey?" he offered, proffering a hand to take and refill Kim's glass.

Harry gave a curt nod, and the glass was promptly refilled. "Keep the bottle here," Kim ordered. "I'll want more." He filled the glass one more time and rose it high in the air. "Go to hell Daniel Bird. Go to hell." Clinking glasses with Morn, he tossed back the whiskey like water. The liquor burned the back of his throat as it went down. It had been a long time since he'd had real alcohol.

And as Quark began to add up Harry Kim's bill, his eyes opened wide and he whispered in awe," If he keeps this up, I'll be richer than the Grand Nagus!"

*********************

On the Tagki freighter Belle Femme, Captain Warren Hamalph crossed his cramped bridge and gave the evil eye to his subordinate, the Belle Femme's pilot, Gordon Nash. "How the *hell* could you not tell me that you tried to cheat an *Orion* pirate! Look at all the damage they caused!" Hamalph loomed over Nash, and the pilot, who'd been so confident bluffing his way through a poker game with an Orion, now tried not to cower before the older, bigger, and angrier man. The captain ticked off all the damaged systems on his fingers. "Life support is failing. We have a hull breach. The emergency force field is barely holding, warp drive is off-line, damn it, the whole *ghay'cha'* propulsion system is putrefied so badly it'll take god knows how much time to fix, and most of our cargo is destroyed so even attempting to make the rendezvous is pointless---"

"Warren, give the kid a break, will you? You made plenty of your own mistakes when you were starting out." A voice broke into Hamalph's tirade, and Nash took in a deep breath and wiped his brow.

"Torres, I knew I shouldn't have given you a free ride," muttered Hamalph as the owner of the voice emerged from the doorway and entered the bridge.

"How could you turn me down? After all those times I pulled your chestnuts out of the line of fire, you ought to be on the floor, *begging* to do me a favor."

"The old axiom is 'fortune favors the bold'-and you were pretty damn bold, marching onto my ship when I stopped to pick up cargo on Kronos and demanding I give you a lift." Hamalph snorted. "I should have known you'd start giving me pointers on how to run a ship."

"If you did it right, I wouldn't have to," Torres answered easily, sliding into an unoccupied chair. "So you going to give the kid a break or what?"

"If I don't, you'll just hang around longer," grumbled Hamalph good-naturedly. He aimed his thumb at the door, and cocked his head meaningfully. Gordon Nash gratefully raced out of his captain's line of sight and disappeared into the cargo hold.

"You going to tell me what happened or make me guess?" demanded Torres, surveying the battered consoles and constant flash of warning lights. "I was taking a nice nap down in that rat hole you laughingly call a cargo hold when the sirens started blaring."

Warren Hamalph let out a few choice denunciations, and swallowing his annoyance, said, "Nash back there tried to cheat an Orion out of a few bars of latinum. The Orion found out he worked for me, and attacked us. And to think-I was going to go to Deep Space Nine after I delivered my cargo, to get a plasma coolant injector fixed, and now the ship needs a complete overhaul! Lucky for us, the Federation ship, Enterprise was in the area and is headed here right now."

Torres let out a whistle. "The Enterprise? The one that beat off the Borg? That's more than luck, my friend. That's divine intervention."

"What about you, Torres? You never said why you needed to get to DS9."

"I'm going to visit my daughter," Torres answered softly, examining the burnt console next to him, trying to avoid Hamalph's gaze. He knew what was coming, and Hamalph didn't let him down.

"Your daughter? Marco...are you sure that's a good idea? You haven't seen her since she was-"

"Five. But it's something I have to do, Warren."

For a few seconds, Hamalph could only stare at his friend of fifty years. He knew perfectly well that Marco had thought of his daughter every day since he had left her

But in all those years, Marco had never once mentioned trying to *see* her.

Torres met Hamalph's eyes. "She's my only child, my flesh and blood, Warren. And she's engaged. You know what that means? I'm going to have a son-in-law. Maybe even *grandchildren* I can bounce on my knee."

"Marco," Hamalph pleaded, trying to get his friend to listen to reason, "it's been almost thirty years. You left without even saying goodbye to her-what in hell makes you think that she'll just accept you? Damn, Alicia," he said, referring to his own daughter," wouldn't speak to me for three days when I missed her tenth birthday. You've missed almost all of your little girl's life. Don't you think it would be better for the *both* of you if you tried not to make contact?"

"We're not talking about an alien culture here, Warren, this is my *daughter*. I have every right to see her, no matter what you or Prabsa happen to think about the idea," Torres argued, the decision already made in his mind.

Unlike Gordon Nash, yelling wouldn't intimidate Torres an iota, so Hamalph resigned himself to the fact that at least he'd tried to deter his friend from this unwise course of action. Throwing his hands up, he said resignedly, "Whatever you want, Marco. But don't say I didn't warn you."

****************

As the USS Enterprise sped toward the Tagki freighter, in his quarters, Admiral Owen Paris sat in front of his computer terminal composing his thoughts. Slowly, his hand hovering over the keypad, he accessed the communications system, and entered in a code that was embedded deep in his memory.

The symbol of Earth, a depiction of the planet surrounded by the national symbols for each of the countries ---(for as hard as they tried, nationalism just never died)--appeared on the screen, indicating that he'd gotten a clear connection. Now he just needed to see if she was at home. Part of Owen hoped that she wasn't-but another part wanted to say what he had to say and be damned with it.

A low chirp sounded, indicating that she was indeed home. And almost before Owen could register the fact, his wife, with the once blond--- now pure white-- curls surrounding her face, with those ever so wise, angelic azure eyes, smiled at him through the screen.

"Owen, I didn't think your conference was over yet," Mrs. Madeline Paris said, not looking the least bit sorry that it was.

"It ended sooner that I anticipated," Owen admitted. "The Enterprise has another stop to make, and then we're heading straight to Earth."

"It'll be good to have you home again." There was a long pause and Madeline inquired," Is something wrong, dear?"

Owen let a weak smile emerge. "It depends who you ask, I suppose." He breathed deeply and said,"'Adel... Tom's been found."

Those three words were more than sufficient to take Madeline's breath away. For years, she'd dreamed of this day---to see her little boy once more and make sure he was all right. "Where is he now? Is he coming home? Can I talk to him? Is he all right?"

"All I know is that he's on Deep Space Nine, and the Enterprise is scheduled to rendezvous with Voyager's crew in two days.

The flood of questions she's been about to ask dissipated as Madeline stared at her husband. "You didn't even *talk* to him, did you? Owen, after all this time, I can't believe you are still being so stubborn!" she exclaimed. "You've negotiated with Cardassians-why do you find it so difficult to talk to your own son?"

"I will talk to him, Adel. I will," the Admiral promised. And he resolved that he would the first chance he got.

But these things are often easier said than done.

**************

Back on Deep Space Nine, Kathryn Janeway and Chakotay did indeed get together for their planned dinner. Unfortunately, things didn't go exactly as Kathryn planned. Ten minutes into the conversation, when Janeway had been working up the nerve to confess her feelings, Chakotay had announced that he was going back home to visit his mother as soon as Starfleet finished their debriefing of Voyager's crew. That had totally derailed Janeway's train of thought, and instead of telling her soon to be ex-first officer that she didn't want him to leave Starfleet-to leave her--- she had chatted about casual things like how good it was to have an unlimited supply of coffee. There had been points during the meal where Chakotay had started to say one thing, and then changed it to a different topic-a safe one, such as asking what had Captain Picard have to say about their mutual...'acquaintance' (if one could call him that), Q. And so when the evening ended, it was on a very awkward note, with each of them unable to bring themselves into saying what they really wanted to. They promised to meet the next day for another senior staff meeting-but neither Janeway nor Chakotay sounded like it was something they were particularly enthusiastic about.

Tom Paris and B'Elanna Torres had been preparing to meet Harry Kim and Libby for dinner when Tom had been paged by Neelix, telling them to hurry down to Quark's bar. The Talaxian hadn't deigned to explain why over the comm system, but both lieutenants made their way to the Promenade and gone to the bar. As soon as they entered, it was rather obvious why Neelix had sounded so frantic over the comm. Ensign Harry Kim, the calm, staid, rational one, the epitome of a Starfleet officer, was singing the Academy fight song at the top of his lungs. That wasn't the worst of it. The worst was when he did a crazy twentieth century dance known as the Macarena with five Dabo girls. Quark had gleefully collected fees from the rest of the astonished patrons who were watching the spectacle in bewilderment. It took twenty minutes for the combined powers of Tom, B'Elanna and Neelix to pry Kim away from the bar, and another ten to get him to his cabin. It hadn't helped matters any that on the way to his cabin, Kim had insisted on singing such classics as "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds", "Yankee Doodle Dandy", and had then recited Vulcan poetry. After Harry finally passed out on the couch after the seventh rendition of "I Will Survive", B'Elanna, Tom and Neelix returned to their respective cabins, stuffed their ears with plugs and tried to keep themselves from spontaneously bursting into song. It was *not* an easy thing to do.

And light years away, the Enterprise reached the Tagki freighter commanded by Captain Warren Hamalph. Hamalph, his pilot, Gordon Nash, and the lone passenger, Marco Torres were beamed aboard the Enterprise, while the Belle Femme was secured with a tractor beam for the Starfleet ship's journey to Starbase 375. Normally, Chief Engineer Lieutenant Commander Geordi La Forge and the rest of his staff would have been more than sufficient to repair the freighter, but since the Enterprise had to rendezvous with Voyager's crew, they didn't have the time.

Marco Torres had been quite distressed to find out that LaForge couldn't repair the Belle Femme, but he began to sing a whole different tune after learning that the Enterprise was heading to the same destination he was, and that it would be no trouble at all for Torres to stay onboard until they got to DS Nine. Torres was a Federation citizen and a former Starfleet officer in good standing.

Good standing with the Federation, at any rate.

After all, Federation wasn't synonymous with family.

****************

On Earth, Madeline Paris gripped the silver frame firmly and gazed at the picture. It was the last family picture taken with Tom. *He looked happy then,* Madeline thought to herself. It had been taken only months before Caldik Prime.

The last time Madeline had seen her youngest child had been two months before Captain Janeway had asked Tom to join her on Voyager's doomed mission to capture the renegade Maquis ship. Tom had been in the Auckland Penal Colony. She knew he was being treated well, but as any mother knows, one cannot help but worry about one's child, wherever they were. It came with the territory.

Her husband hadn't known about her trip to Auckland, and it had been just as well. Madeline had told him time and time again that life, death or a prison sentence wasn't going to change the fact that Thomas Eugene was their son, but Owen never listened. Always saying that Thomas had dishonored the family name, broken with tradition and ruined his prospects for the future. Madeline shook her head. When she had first met her husband all those years ago, he had no intention of joining Starfleet, until his mother, the late Admiral Eugenia Paris, had practically shoved the admission papers in front of his face and filled them out for him.

And Owen had turned around and done the same exact thing to his own children. He had given up on their daughters, who by the time Thomas was a year old had proclaimed their desire to have nothing to do with Starfleet. They were contumacious; hell would have frozen over by the time either of them was admitted into the Academy.

But not their youngest. Oh, he was always so eager to please his father, but as Madeline had watched over the years, Owen never showed his approval, only his disapproval. Anything that Tom wanted had to be wrong, it seemed. Tom wanted to be a pilot, Owen wanted him to go into command. The countless arguments those two would have about anything and everything under Earth's sun!

Joining the Maquis, and subsequently being caught had been the last straw. At the trial, Owen had gone and told Tom that he was no longer a Paris, no longer a son of his. He had refused to visit his son. No matter what Madeline said, Owen wouldn't listen. After a particularly exasperating argument-more like a shouting match, truth be told, Madeline had packed her bags and gone to visit her cousin on Alpha Centauri. They had later reconciled, but the subject of their imprisoned son had been a precarious one. Once Voyager had been declared officially lost, they had both stopped mentioning it, but not a day went by when Madeline hadn't hoped that her son---*their* son--- would be found.

And today, he had been. And her husband, that obstinate, officious, stick-in-the-mud Starfleet Officer hadn't even spoken to him. But that didn't mean *she* couldn't.

***************************************

Thomas Eugene Paris woke up with a feeling that today was going to be a good day. That feeling lasted until he entered the shower and realized that he was singing," I will survive..." over and over and over...

"I'm going to get you for this, Harry!" Tom yelled over the pounding of water from the shower, shaking a fist at the ensign as the chorus ran through his head once more. His comm badge chose the same moment to chirp, making its owner jump. "I didn't know Harry was telepathic."

Swiftly snatching a towel and tying it around his torso, he darted out of the shower to answer the page. *You know it's amazing,* Tom thought as he picked up the badge, *you never realize how damn irritating that noise is until it doesn't shut up!* "Paris here."

"What took you so long?" came the voice of his fiancée.

"I was in the shower. You have *impeccable* timing."

B'Elanna sounded smug. "I try."

"So what was so urgent I had to get out of the shower? I thought you were coming over and then we were going to eat breakfast at the replimat. Or did I miss something? Trying to get Harry home without getting arrested for disturbing the peace had me a little preoccupied last night." The aviator shuddered as he heard another refrain of Gloria Gaynor's now immortal song ricochet its way around his head.

She echoed his mental groan. "Tell me about. But I what I called to say that the meeting was canceled."

"What meeting?" Tom looked at the shower longingly. He hated having his showers interrupted. It was rare he had enough water rations to take an old fashioned water shower instead of a sonic one.

"Didn't you read the messages Captain Janeway sent?"

"No. I got up and got in the shower-which was rather rudely interrupted, I might add."

B'Elanna ignored his aside. "Apparently, there was a senior staff meeting today, scheduled at the last minute. A half hour later, I get another message saying that it was canceled, and that all we needed to know was that the Enterprise had been delayed and wasn't going to be here until the day after tomorrow."

"I don't remember the Captain ever canceling a meeting before," he remarked. "Not that I mind."

"I think something's going on," B'Elanna said suddenly after a moment of silence. "I contacted Chakotay to ask about it, and he was so evasive-and when I mentioned the Captain, he practically leaped into a panic."

"You think something happened between the two of them?"

"Probably. I've known Chakotay a long time, he doesn't get this skittish over nothing. I asked him to join us for breakfast-"

"Without asking me?"

"To join us for breakfast," continued B'Elanna as if Tom hadn't interrupted," and he made up some excuse about contacting his Cousin Ed in Ohio."

"Chakotay had a cousin in Ohio?"

"What's wrong with Ohio?"

"Nothing. I just didn't think people actually *lived* there."

"Tom! You're from Earth and you think no one lives in Ohio?"

"It's just one of those American assumptions," said Tom by way of explanation. "Like Kansas. No one actually knows anyone from Kansas, except Dorothy and Toto."

"Who?"

"Never mind. I'll explain later."

After a few more minutes of reaffirming their original plans, Tom returned to his shower, sighing with pleasure as the hot water pounded on his body, cleansing his body and wiping away the worries of the moment.

"You have an incoming transmission," blared the computer suddenly.

"Why?" Tom grumbled to no one. "Why during my shower? Why not when I'm sitting doing nothing?" He made his way to the front room, drying himself off and pulling on various articles of clothing as he did because it didn't seem like he was going to have any time to finish his shower. "Who the hell could be calling now?" he wondered aloud as he activated the desk terminal. He stared in confusion at the screen, which was showing a blank wall. "Hello?" Tom called, his hand already reaching to shut off the data terminal.

"I'm coming, hold on," yelled a woman's voice. "Just a minute."

*I know that voice* Tom realized. Though it couldn't be her---could it? When the caller's familiar countenance appeared on the screen, his jaw dropped. "Mom!"

Madeline Paris felt tears sting her eyes as she regarded her offspring. "Thomas, it's so good to see you again. I was beginning to think you weren't going to answer."

"I...I was in the shower. How did you know I was here?" he asked dumb foundedly.

"I think the better question would be, why didn't you call me?" Madeline answered, eyebrows raised.

Tom struggled to find an answer. Why hadn't he contacted her? "I don't know," he said. "Maybe I didn't want to take the chance that Dad would answer."

Madeline didn't miss the sour shadow that shaded her son's voice when he mentioned his father. *Owen hasn't talked to Tom yet.* She deliberated on whether or not she should mention anything to Tom about Owen being on the Enterprise, but she decided against it. This was between her son and husband, and she wasn't going to interfere.

"He's not here," Madeline told Tom. "He's at a conference on Maliya Four." *Or rather, he was* she amended silently.

"I should have known. He's never at home. But I don't want to talk about him. It's good to see you again, Mom." A genuine smile spread across Tom's face. "I've missed you. I've even missed Kathleen and Moira. How are they?"

"Your sisters are fine. Kathleen's pregnant, due next month and Moira is engaged. She'll be so happy to hear you're going to be able to make it to the wedding." Madeline paused. "You are, aren't you?"

"I'll have to call and make sure I'm invited first, Mom. I can't just crash," Tom joked. "I can't believe she's getting married!"

"And I can't believe I'm going to finally see you again," teased Mrs. Paris. "We have four years to catch up on-beginning with, of course, do I have any grandchildren?"

"None that I know of." He laughed at his mother's disapproving stare. "I'm kidding, Mom. No, you don't have any grandchildren from my branch of the family tree. But..." he trailed off.

"But what?" his mother demanded, her eyes gleaming with anticipation.

"I am engaged."

She clapped her hands delightedly. "I knew it! Who is she? And when are you both going to be here? No need for an exact date, but an estimation would be nice. Moira and Kathleen will want to meet her, of course, and my parents and..."

"Mom, calm down," protested Tom, grinning nonetheless at his mother's eagerness. "Before you invite half of Earth to meet her, don't you want to know a little more about her?"

"Of course! Start with her name," prompted Madeline.

"Her name is B'Elanna Torres."

"B'Elanna..." Madeline rolled the name around her mouth. An unusual appellation with a foreign tinge to it, although certainly not an unpleasant one. "A beautiful name. How did you two meet on Voyager, and how long have you been together?"

"We actually met almost as soon as we'd been thrown in the Delta Quadrant. She hated me then, she actually called me pig." Tom laughed. "She called me a 'stubborn, domineering, pig', actually. I started chasing her two years later, but she didn't take me seriously. Eventually, she succumbed to my powers of persuasion, and here we are!"

"A woman that resisted my son's affections...she must be one in a million," Madeline said with a chuckle.

"That she most certainly is. One in a million, Mom. One in a million."

Marco Torres sat at a corner table in the lounge on the USS Enterprise and nursed his drink. As he swirled the liquid around with the tip of his finger, he heard a feminine voice above him.

"Is something wrong with your drink?" A mysterious looking woman with dark skin, and a saucer shaped hat sat in the chair opposite him. "I'm Guinan, and I run this establishment. If you want something else..."

"No, no," protested Torres, wrapping both hands firmly around the glass. "It's fine. I'm just not in the drinking mood right now."

Guinan didn't say anything for several minutes, and just when Marco assumed she would leave to attend to her hosting duties, she said," It isn't going to be easy you know."

"Pardon?"

"Talking to your daughter, after all these years. She's not just going to run up and hug you the minute you knock on her door."

"How did you...?" Marco asked, dumbfounded. "You're Betazoid?"

"El-Aurian. You left her when she was so young, it should have had a tremendous impact on her life. Don't fool yourself into thinking you have every right to barge into her life just because you're blood relatives."

"I'm her father---" Marco protested, wanting to question the El-Aurian more about her telepathic abilities, but suspecting he'd just get an answer as mysterious as the woman herself.

"The father who abandoned her," Guinan finished for him. She rose from her chair in one graceful motion. "Keep that in mind." Without another word, she was gone, greeting crew members who walked through the doorway with her enigmatic smile.

Marco stared after her in astonishment, but didn't feel the anger he thought he would about Guinan's unsolicited advice. He'd gotten the same spiel told to him by his ex-wife and Warren Hamalph, but the way this puzzling woman had said it to him had been different somehow.

He heaved a sigh. When had his life become so twisted he couldn't make heads or tails of it?

*The minute I met Prabsa.* He and his now ex-wife had encountered each other on Alpha Centauri B, where Marco had been visiting his best friend, Warren Hamalph. Prabsa had been an exchange student from the Klingon Homeworld, and the minute they'd met in the community pool, it had been an instant attraction. With a long, flaming copper mane, and the way she filled out the bathing suit she'd been wearing, Prabsa had been impossible to resist. Everything about her seemed enchanting, from her accented English to her impatient manner. In a year, they were married and living on Kessik. Soon afterward their beautiful baby girl had been born, and things had seemed perfect.

Four years later, the endless days of stony silence interrupted only if either had felt the need to hurl insults at the other began. The nights they'd argue until day break, the nights anything breakable would be broken and their throats would go hoarse from screaming. The nights when arguments would only pause if their daughter woke up and started crying.

It had been both their faults that their union had failed. Prabsa hadn't taken it well, to her one mated for life, and if that marriage was broken, it was a sign of dishonor. But it hadn't been her who hadn't acted dishonorably, it had been *him*.

Marco Torres was the one that fled Kessik and accepted a deep space assignment. He was the one who wasn't able to face his little girl, and tell her that he wasn't able to give her what she would need most, a stable life.

He hadn't even said goodbye.

Marco had packed his bags, kissed his sleeping five year old, and left---but with many a backward glance. He went to his next assignment, throwing himself in his work. When he was asked to join a special undercover mission in Cardassian space, he had agreed.

Marco had told Prabsa a few days ago that it hadn't been his fault, that he couldn't help missing out on B'Elanna's life. Crap. That's what it was, a load of crap. Truth was that after the divorce, he'd begun to doubt himself. He doubted his skills to be a family man, unsure of his skills as a father. He thought it would be better if he let Prabsa raise their daughter, that way he couldn't screw up anymore than he already had.

But then one day, he realized he couldn't live the rest of his life not knowing what happened to his one and only daughter. Marco turned to the data padd laying on the table in front of him, activated it and called up a picture of his daughter.

He concentrated on the small screen, as if trying to memorize every detail of B'Elanna's face. Gone were the round cheeks and eyes sparkling with unbounded enthusiasm of youth, and the long wavy hair. B'Elanna's hair curled around the bottom of her chin, and her dark eyes bore into the screen, daring anyone to question anything she had to say.

When she'd been a little girl, Marco had thought B'Elanna looked just like her mother. To his surprise, he could now see clearly *his* eyes, *his* nose, and *his* defiant glare staring back at him.

And for the first time since that last fateful night on Kessik, Marco reflected on what he had done to B'Elanna. About how scared she must have been when she'd woken up and found out her father had disappeared into the darkness of the night. About how she must have felt for the rest of her life, not knowing why her father had left her.

*What kind of father just leaves his little girl in the lurch?* Marco asked himself.

Unfortunately, he knew the answer to that one.

A very, very, bad one.

=/\==/\==/\==/\==/\==/\==/\==/\==/\==/\==/\=

Harry Kim sat in his quarters, massaging his temples with his hands. One might think it was because of his hangover, but no, Harry had gotten that treated this morning at the hands of the sympathetic Doctor Julian Bashir. Seeing his horrible disposition, the young doctor had helpfully suggested that he replicate himself a teddy bear--they were amazingly sympathetic, Bashir had assured with authority. Kim had refused and returned to his cabin to dwell on what a fool he'd made of himself last night to the general population of Deep Space Nine and Libby.

The door unexpectedly chimed and slid open simultaneously, revealing a exultant Tom Paris. "Up and at 'em, Harry," he sang out as he entered the doorway. He poked his head into Harry's sleeping area. "Good, you're already awake."

"What was that lecture you gave me when I kept interrupting you and B'Elanna? Never barge in without knocking, was it?"

"I thought you'd be out cold," Tom justified his presence easily enough. "Anyway, I thought you might like to eat breakfast with B'Elanna and me."

"You mean actually go out in *public*? After last night? I don't think so, Tom." Harry gave a long suffering sigh. "I think I'd rather sit here, paying penance for all the stupid things I've done in the few days we've been back in the Alpha Quadrant."

"Oh, come on, Harry," cajoled Tom. "I thought you'd be dying to spend every moment with Libby. Where is she anyway?" He glanced around the room, as if expecting her to pop out of corner, shouting 'Surprise!' any moment. The minute he saw his friend's expression, though, he knew it would be fortunate if Libby wasn't already back on Earth.

"Harry, Harry, Harry... what *did* you do?" Tom slumped against the wall, crossing his arms across his chest. "It couldn't have been that bad."

Harry snorted, sounding astoundingly cynical for one who was usually so optimistic. "It was bad, Tom. I mean *bad, bad*. She could never forgive me for what I did...I acted like a total idiot, I was completely irrational, I was out of line, I should have listened to what she had to say..."

Tom listened as Harry rattled off a list of unfavorable adjectives about himself, and patiently waited until Kim had run out of breath to ask," What exactly did you do to deserve all that?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Kim sighed heavily, massaging his temples again. Just thinking about last night made his skull throb.

"Then don't talk. Eat."

Harry looked at Tom. "You just want me to have breakfast with you because you think B'Elanna can pry it out of me. Well, she can't."

"Then you have nothing to worry about, do you?" Tom pulled his friend to his feet, despite Harry's many complaints and protests.

Harry allowed himself to be pulled toward the door, although he didn't stop complaining to Tom that on fifty five planets what Paris was doing could be considered kidnapping. Truth was, Harry did want to talk about it...but also didn't want to talk about it. *Maybe I should have replicated that teddy bear after all...*

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