Title: Noah Phones Home (from "Voyager Virtual Season 7.5")

Author: DianeB

Rating: G

A/N:This story was written for the "Voyager Virtual Season 7.5" fanfiction endeavor, and is part of a much larger story from VVS7.5's Season Two, Episode 28b, titled, "In the Arms of Family (Part I)." Taking place on Deep Space Nine just after the return of Voyager, it outlines the call Noah Lessing, formerly of the Equinox, makes to his daughter and his ex-wife, now remarried and with a young son. Noah realizes he may not have to spend his life paying for the evil he conducted aboard Ransom's ship. Originally written in July, 2002, and revised in May, 2007, for posting on this site.

I highly recommend you Google Voyager Virtual Season 7.5 and start reading from the top. It's a mighty impressive piece of work and deserves your eyes.


Noah Lessing's legs were aching, something they had started doing in recent months whenever he was under stress. The Doctor had told him it was psychosomatic, and on that he figured the Doctor was exactly right. Ever since his rescue from the ruined bridge of the Equinox, his legs gave him trouble of one sort or another. Since he knew for a physical fact his legs were in perfect shape, it stood to reason that, yes, the pain was all in his head.

If that turned out to be the only price he'd have to pay for all that had transpired aboard the Equinox, he'd gladly live with it.

But for now, real or phantom, his legs were begging him to find a seat. Given he had been standing in line on the Promenade for the better part of an hour, waiting his turn for a communications booth, he couldn't blame his beleaguered limbs. Nevertheless, he stayed in line another two minutes and was finally rewarded. A unit opened, he was next up, and he slipped gratefully onto the seat in front of it.

Now that he was here, he hesitated, even though he knew he did not have an unlimited amount of time to make his call. The area around the public communications booths was still packed with people waiting to make calls, not all of them Voyager crewmembers. Deep Space Nine was a busy place, even without the addition of Voyager and all the media.

Before he could hesitate himself right out of making the call, he entered the codes and waited. Neither he nor any of the lower-decks crewmembers had been permitted much datastream time beyond several text-only letters. There just hadn't been enough room, and then they were home and it became unnecessary.

While his mind wandered, his call was answered, and there she was. His precious little girl. Not so little now, of course – she was eleven – but to see her sweet face, with its ebony eyes and shining curls, and know he would soon be seeing her, really seeing her and hugging her, made his eyes fill. He blinked and smiled, trying to find his voice. Luckily, he didn't have to. She recognized him at once.

"Daddy!"

He coughed to clear his throat, his heart filled with joy that his baby had not forgotten him. "Hi baby. It sure is good to see you. Look at you, all grown up."

She dropped her eyes shyly, but was clearly pleased with his observation. "Am not."

"Are, too. So how's the mailbox?"

At this she giggled, remembering their new special joke. In a singsong voice, she recited the words she had learned from him. "Daddy went vroom and the mailbox went crack. It was a sad day for the mailbox." She paused and looked hard at him, switching gears so fast he wondered what she was going to say. He didn't have to wonder very long. "When are you coming to see me? I want you to see my room and my brother and my adoption papers and my step-daddy."

She said all this in a great rush that caught him completely off guard. He had known the adoption had gone through – had even encouraged Sam and Ginny to go ahead with it – but it still threw him to hear Hannah say it out loud like that. It would take a bit of getting used to, he admitted to himself, just like everything else.

He must have had a strange look on his face, because Hannah suddenly asked if he was okay and repeated her question about when he was coming to see her. That question, at least, was easy enough to answer.

"Honey, I don't know yet. The Captain is still waiting to hear from Starfleet about when we can leave for Earth. But I promise I'll be there as soon as I can." He changed the subject to get out from under her stern stare. "Is your mom around?"

"Yes, she's outside. I'll go get her."

Hannah didn't put the transmission on hold, so Noah could see into the living room. It was obvious his neat-as-a-pin ex-wife had to give up a little of that neatness for the new baby. There were blocks, balls, and other assorted toys strewn all over the floor. It looked like a happy mess, and for one fleeting moment, he hated the cards he'd been dealt. But the feeling passed as quickly as it had come.

If he had learned nothing from his time on both Equinox and Voyager, he had learned that the universe was a big, strange place, and even when you thought you had reached the end of your rope, you were sometimes given another length, whether you thought you deserved it or not.

Ginny had by this time slipped into the chair in front of her unit, just barely holding onto a squirming little boy. Her own curling hair was noticeably damp along her smooth, dark forehead.

"Noah, my god. Welcome home. You look good. A little tired. What's going on? When do we get to see you?" She sounded just like her daughter.

"Cup!" This from the toddler on her lap, at top volume.

Ginny held one finger up to the screen, turned her head and called to her daughter, who was out of sight somewhere. "Hannah, honey, get me his sippy cup, would you? It's in the cooler unit. I just filled it." She turned back to the screen, sighed heavily enough to raise the damp curls off her forehead, and began to bounce the child on her knee in an effort to distract him from his intent to get off her lap.

Noah watched this scene with growing amusement. Hannah had been no problem at this age – or a least not nearly as feisty and demanding – and Ginny looked a little worse for wear. He couldn't hold back a chuckle.

"Handsome boy, Ginny, but he looks like a handful. What's his name?"

Ginny stopped bouncing her son and instead wrapped her arms around him and gave him a quick squeeze, looking for a moment like she might start to cry. But she quickly recovered, and resumed her bouncing. "Oh, Noah, I was wondering when you'd ask. You know what I named him. How could I name him anything else?"

There was a small moment of silence until understanding dawned, and with it came a flood of jumbled emotions that caused his throat to tighten. "Abraham," he rasped softly. It was his father's name. It would have been Hannah's if she'd been a boy.

Hannah chose that moment to arrive with her brother's cup, happily unaware of the emotional state of the adults or that her presence was just the diversion they needed. She bent at the waist and presented it to him, wiggling her backside and puckering her lips, in preparation to talk to him. "Here's your sippy cup, Abie-baby. Now c'mere."

Smiling broadly, showing tiny white teeth, Abraham eagerly took the cup, stuffed the tip into his mouth and held his arms out to be taken. Hannah hefted him into her arms, staggered a minute under his weight, and then walked him over to his mass of toys in the middle of the living room.

Ginny followed her children's progress for a moment and then turned back to Noah. "She's so good with him, Noah. Never once has she displayed even the remotest hint of jealousy. She's the best babysitter we could want, and doesn't even ask for an increase in her allowance credits for watching him."

"Well, she had a good upbringing."

Ginny looked ready to cry again, but caught herself once more. "Noah, I'm sorry I didn't wait – "

He cut her off with a sharp shake of his head. "Gin, no, we've been through this already. You thought I was dead – you had a memorial service for me, for crying out loud – you don't have to keep apologizing for going on with your life. Besides, you've got a great husband and a wonderful family now, and it's all I could have ever wanted for you.

"Do you think I'd've been happy knowing you were waiting for me? None of us knew what the hell had happened when the Caretaker's array dragged us to the Delta Quadrant. When we finally figured it out and realized how far away from home we were, we knew that little science vessel would never get us back inside of a hundred years, if then. I hoped right then you wouldn't ruin your life by waiting for me, and I'm glad you didn't."

His speech left him winded and his legs twitching. He leaned back in the seat, unable for a second to think of another thing to say, but not wanting to end the call this way. He glanced at the timer; his time was about up. Then something else came to him, something blessedly neutral that would take the edge off their emotions.

"So how's life in Luna Colony?"

Ginny looked grateful. "Things are going really well, even out here in the sticks. Or should I say out here in the dust? But, you know," she said, her voice becoming lighter with her thought, "that reminds me. Sam said the other day that one of his clients has a florist's shop and greenhouse he wants to sell."

Noah perked up immediately, ignoring the rapidly-blinking timer on the console. "Oh yeah?" In the short time he'd been on Voyager, he'd done wonders in the Aeroponics bay, creating paths lined with roses and Talaxian tomatoes of gargantuan proportions. He'd had little interest in horticulture before then, but did not question his good fortune in being able not only to make himself useful aboard the starship, but to do something he found he enjoyed. He'd told Ginny about it in his last letter.

"When you get here, we'll all go and take a look. How's that sound?"

Noah sighed. "When he got there" could be any time from two months to twenty years, depending on Starfleet's decisions regarding the Equinox, as well as the question of how he would handle what Janeway had done to him, if he would handle it at all. He knew Ginny knew all this but was keeping a bright face for Hannah. He looked down at the console and as he did, the timer beeped sharply. If he didn't sever his connection in the next thirty seconds, it would be severed for him. He looked back up at Ginny and spoke rapidly.

"Sounds like a great idea, Gin. My time's up. I've gotta go. I figure I won't get another chance to call before we're summoned to Earth. Keep watching the FNN newsvids, as they'll surely carry word of our departure. But keep away from the tabloids. The press is everywhere around here, good and bad, but as you might imagine, we're not allowed to talk to them. So whatever the tabloids are printing, it's all fabrication." He raised his voice a little. "Goodbye, Hannah-banana. Take care of your little brother. I love you."

"I will, Daddy," Hannah yelled from across the room. "I love you, too! Bye!"

The screen went blank. Noah lifted himself slowly to his feet, turned from the booth and walked on down the Promenade, stopping at the first florist shop he came to.

END