A/N: I cannot believe more fan-fic writers haven't imagined this scenario.
Tom Paris always felt guilty about leaving B'Elanna and Miral behind, even if only for a week or two. He might not have needed to bother with the presents he always brought home for his daughter; Miral often regarded the adventure stories Tom would return with as presents enough. Though she was only four years old, Tom could tell, from the enthusiasm she showed in his piloting stories, that his daughter was on her way to a career at the helm. If he was right, being one-forth Klingon would serve her well. He'd never say it to B'Elanna's face, but a Klingon's spunk might…clash less, with a flyboy's (or girls') job, than an engineer's.
B'Elanna's career was on hold, and that also caused Tom some guilt. Miral was starting first grade (Klingons aged faster than humans), but they had a second child on the way. A boy this time. They were still arguing over names. B'Elanna had been offered a teaching job at the Academy, and accepted a part-time position. She didn't want to move up to fulltime until their son had begun school. Tom had made sacrifices too, settling into a civilian job piloting cargo ships through short (but challenging ) routes, so he didn't have to leave home too often. But Tom and B'Elanna operated on the belief that children, at least in their youngest years, needed extra attention from their mother. Maybe they were right or maybe their thinking was outdated, but that's what they'd both decided. And Tom felt guilty.
So he decided to buy them another present.
Often, he'd buy a toy for Miral. She loved stuffed animals. And lately, she'd been talking about a pet. Tom thought a pet would do both Miral and B'Elanna good. It would be a fantastic way to teach their daughter responsibility, and B'Elanna would get a break more often, if their daughter had a new furry playmate to distract her. The problem was that with Miral still being quite young, and both parents so busy, it would have to be a pet that required little attention.
Tom was beaming when he entered the house with the small carrier crate in hand. B'Elanna kissed him, while his daughter barreled into him with a hug. Neither of them suspected his surprise. The carrier was soundproof; it operated on a technology that generated an artificial atmosphere, much like a miniature starship, rendering air holes unnecessary.
"How've you been?" Tom asked.
B'Elanna ran her hand over her stomach. "We're all doing well. The baby's been surprisingly well behaOh!" She almost jumped. "He was being well behaved…"
"Was that a kick?" Miral asked.
B'Elanna nodded, looking slightly startled. "A damn hard kick. I hope I didn't do something to make him mad."
Tom made a face, then shrugged and brought the carrier crate to the living room. "I got you all a present."
Miral began bouncing. "What is it?"
"Why don't you see for yourself." Tom placed the carrier on the coffee table, and stepped back, gesturing for his daughter to open it up.
Smiling, B'Elanna sank into the couch, then winced again at another kick from the baby.
"Just wait till you hear this little guy," Tom said. "the crate's sound-proof, but this thing has the most adorable purr you ev—"
When Miral lifted the lid, the sound that exploded from the crate was anything but a purr.
The screeching was deafening. Tom feared the animal was having some kind of a seizure. Miral stared down into the crate, dumbfounded.
"Tom," B'Elanna gasped. "What is that?"
Furrowing his brow, Tom reached into the crate and picked the pet up in one hand. "It's a tribble."
"A WHAT?!"
"A tri—"
The creature began to trill furiously again, wriggling madly. It wiggled right off Tom's hand, like the hermit crabs he'd catch on the beach as a boy, and tumbled to the floor. Miral yelped and jumped back, as if it were a tarantula.
"Kill it!" Miral screamed, and instinctively kicked the tribble, sending it over the table like a soccer ball.
"I don't understand," Tom rushed to examine the carrier. "Maybe he was scared from being locked up in the crate—"
"TOM!" B'Elanna was cringing on the couch, her teeth barred. "I know your preferred historical era is the twentieth century, but are you really going to tell me you've never heard about the Enterprise and the tribble incident?"
Tom made a face. "No. Well wait," he gave it some thought. "Actually, I do remember my history professor in grade school, mentioning it. Didn't some crewwoman buy one, and then they were everywhere?" His eyes bulged. "This guy's neutered, don't worry! The Ferengi I bought it from promised—"
"Ferengi, why am I not surprised." B'Elanna's eyes were closed, as she visibly took a breath and counted to ten. "Tom, did your history teacher say anything about how tribbles are around Klingons?"
"If he did I didn't catch it."
B'Elanna could read the subtext. I was using my PADD to play games, not take notes.
Tom glanced at their daughter. Miral was timidly crouching beside the couch, peeking underneath. A quiet sound, something between a tribble's usual coo and a cat's hiss, emitted from underneath.
"What are tribbles like around Klingons?" Tom asked, far too casually.
The tribble rolled out from under the sofa with a frightening speed, causing Miral to scream again.
B'Elanna shouted, "TRIBBLES DON'T LIKE KLINGONS!"
After the animal rolled into another room, and Miral decided to chase it with one of her parents' golf clubs, B'Elanna whispered quickly, "And Klingons don't like tribbles."
Tom glanced at the half-opened door to their bedroom, hearing thunk after thunk as their daughter continuously missed the tribble, occasionally yelping again.
"Sorry," he shrugged bashfully.
Tom figured that after they caught the tribble, he'd take it back for an exchange (and do his research this time). Or, if the Ferengi salesman didn't allow exchanges, maybe just give it to a friend. But they never caught the animal. It remained hidden for a day, and then, as soon as B'Elanna opened the door to take Miral to school, escaped outside. And the Ferengi had lied about the tribble being neutered. Within a week, their entire lawn had an infestation. Suffice to say, B'Elanna wasn't happy.
"Look at those patches in the grass!" she roared, gesturing at the cooing, wriggling yard outsdie the window. "They're eating our entire lawn! I'm telling you Tom, we've got to call an exterminator."
"There's got to be some kind of catch-and-release organization we can call," Tom argued. "I know you two don't like these guys, but you don't really want to kill them?"
"It's what would happen to them in the wild," Miral pointed out, from where she sat at the kitchen table with a PADD. "That's how come they're born pregnant. Tribbles have so many natural predators, it keeps their population down."
"Great," B'Elanna sighed. "So now we'll get to see the hawks and cats do their hunting in our backyard. The nature program right outside our window, that's something I want to see while I'm making dinner."
Miral set down her PADD and ran to the window. "I love the nature program!" Eying the sea of wiggling balls of fur from the window, she asked, "Do you think they'll attract any tigers or targs?"
B'Elanna rubbed her forehead. "Miral, I don't think here aren't very many tigers or targs running around California."
But there were plenty of smaller predators. Over the course of the week, Miral got to watch stray cats and dogs, a couple large birds, and even a fox, dropping by their yard for an easy dinner. Tom wasn't sure if it was because he didn't have any Klingon blood, or if he was just a more sensitive human, but he didn't share his daughter's scientific curiosity or his wife's sadistic joy as they spent the week watching the various animals hunt down the tribbles from every window.
One predator in particular got their attention, and even Tom had to peek out the window for a look. It resembled a Terran housecat, but its fur was blue, and its ears elongated and tufted. It was a hybrid between a cat and a traka, a Vulcan animal that had been introduced to Earth about a century ago. Stray trakas were now commonplace on Earth, at least in some areas. And they were known to breed with cats. It wasn't a huge shock to see a cat/traka hybrid hunting in the yard, but it was unexpected enough to get the whole family's attention. Miral made several attempts to approach the cat, but it usually ran away. When she started to offer it food, it seemed to hesitate, considering. But eventually it always ran.
"Mom! Dad! Wake up, wake up!"
Tom was having one of those dreams where you thought you were already out of bed and getting breakfast, only to find you'd been dreaming and had to wake up all over again. It took a few tries for his daughter's voice to wake him, because he was hearing it in his dream.
"Miral?" Tom blinked awake, hearing B'Elanna roll over and groan next to him. "Miri what's wrong?"
"Come see!" She sounded excited. "Come on!"
She led her groaning, eye-rubbing parents to the front door, where the cat/traka hybrid stood, looking up at them expectedly. On the porch in front of it was a large, lifeless mass of beige fur.
Tom's face fell. "Aaawe, no,"
Miral clapped gleefully. "He's a hero! He's our new guard cat!"
B'Elanna immediately scooped the cat up in both hands, baby-talking it, telling it how welcome it was in their house.
"Something good came from this little fiasco after all," B'Elanna said, stroking the cat's blue fur.
The hybrid had a purr that sounded like something between a cat's regular purr, and a dog's growl. Only Klingons would find that sound soothing, Tom privately thought.
"That's called a serendipity," Tom muttered, scratching the cat behind its tuffed aquamarine ears.
He had to admit, this animal was very friendly, and cute in its own, slightly vicious, way.
"Let's name her that!" Miral declared.
"I thought you said it was a 'he!'" Tom argued.
B'Elanna lifted up the cat, which was licking its chops, to have a look. "It's a she. Serendipity it is."
Within a month, the tribble infestation in the yard was completely gone, and Serendipity was an official member of the Paris/Torres family.
A/N: I made up Vulcan trakas on the spot, and the idea of them having stray hybrids in California. I don't recall if Klingons canonically age faster than humans; but it's the only way to explain how B'Elanna's father left when she was five, but when we saw the flashback of him leaving her, she looked closer to ten.
If you enjoyed this story, I have one other ficlett featuring the Paris/Torres family, called "Hybrid." For the most part though, that story is a flashback, chronicling B'Elanna's doomed friendship with K'Ehleyr (from "Next Generation"). Several Klingon hybrids make cameos, including Alexander and Ba'el.
I also urge everyone to check out the fantastic one-shots of Larua Schiller. She fills in plot-holes and expands on characters, often ones in need of development, with short, easy-to-read stories. She's featured everyone from regular characters, to recurring guest stars like Naomi Wildman, to extremely minor characters like Tal Celes and the Delaney sisters. She also has a very broad spectrum, embracing several "ships," both canon and fanon, and has several stories for the Relaunch novels. (Laura Schiller flattered the hell out of me today by expanding on my take on the Delaney sisters, and recommending me, so I'm returning the favor.)
Finally, I will recommend a video. A funny "Voyager" parody on YouTube, called "The Wrath of Neelix." It comes in three parts, and is made from clips of the show spliced together to create a hilarious new tale. The drama begins when Neelix comes between Janeway and her coffee. Having reached her last straw with the Talaxian, Janeway orders Tuvok to take Neelix in a shuttle and dump him on a planet. But Neelix gets wind of the plot and he reveals a murderous side. Only the Emergency Command Hologram may be able to save the crew…