Someone was hitting him with a hammer. Again and again. A tiny noise took on corporal form and formed a band around his head slowly tightening itself adding to his misery.

"Tom." The loud banging noise was actually a whisper. He opened his eyes. Torres was kneeling beside him. His eyes tried to focus. He always thought the half human half Klingon woman attractive in an unbreakable sort of way but now her hair was mussed and her eyes were bloodshot. She was still kind of pretty.

"Stop shouting at me!" He croaked.

"I'm not…" she said. She stopped long enough to swallow. She was obviously in as much pain as he was.

"We have to get to sick bay and take something for this. We all have to be on duty in an hour." she said. Her voice was unusually soft. He hated himself for liking the sound of it. He imagined her talking to him that way all the time.

Raising himself from his place on the floor he saw Harry sprawled out against the far wall of the mess hall. His friend was out cold. Tom ran his fingers through his hair noting that it was completely out of control and he didn't need a mirror to know that his skin was flushed. He knew what he looked like after a bender. This time felt a little different. Disconnected images began dancing around in front of his eyes. They were fascinating.

"What happened?" he asked.

"That Romulan ale you shared with us, the stuff that was supposed to be synthetic... It was apparently the real thing!" The soft voice was gone. Damn that hurt.

'No it wasn't. That was given to me by my friend Matt...for...something. Can't remember. I did something...memorable...on the Essex."

"Well if we ever get back to the Alpha Quadrant you might want to have words with your friend Matt." She said. She was angry.

"Why would he do this to me?" He moaned.

"It was probably a prank. I bet they did this routinely to all the freshman officers." She said. She was right. Stunts like this were part of the culture on the Essex. She crawled across the room and repeated her words to Harry who tried to fight her off. She was probably drawing on all the reserves her tough Klingon half could give. He sighed. It was his responsibility. He was the most senior officer here. His fingers went searching for his combadge.

"Tom Paris to Sick Bay."

"This is the Doctor." Oh great. The Doctor was in one of his cheery moods.

"Could you please send Kes down to the mess hall with three doses of Inaprovoline?"

"Why?"

"I was sharing some bottles of what I thought was synthetic Romulan ale with some friends and it turns out...it was the real thing. I guess we're suffering the after effects. Doc, we have to be on duty soon."

A long pause.

"Very well Mr. Paris."

Tom allowed his eyes to close. The imagines were forming a pattern. He and Harry and Torres modifying a shuttle. Then he was in sick bay. The Doctor and Kes were taking care of him.

The beeping of a scanner brought him back. Kes was beside him waving the probe from the medical tricorder over him but he was still in the mess hall. It was disorienting.

"Am I dreaming?" He asked. Kes smiled.

"No, you are very much awake Tom but there is something wrong….the scans are not consistent with a 'hangover'.

"What are they consistent with?"

'I'm not sure. Kes to the Doctor!"

"Go ahead Kes."

"We need to beam Tom, B'Elanna, and Harry to sick bay. This wasn't just Romulan ale they were drinking."

Tom had never transported while coming out from under the influence of anything and he didn't like it. Not at all. It increased the pain. He felt himself being placed on a biobed. From somewhere on the other side of the room he heard Harry mutter "What the hell?" and Torres telling someone to get that thing away from her. The Doctor was standing over him, just like he had before. The dancing images were starting to fuse inside his head. He was going back and forth between something...real life and a dream? Alternate timelines? They were both very very real. He was in extreme pain in both places. He was flying but had no destination. He was everywhere at once. He knew everything. Fear seized him as he realized this was not normal.

"I am going to die." He said.

"No you are not Mr. Paris." The Doctor said.

"Pepperoni Pizza!" He shouted. Why did he say that? His other self really wanted a pizza. He saw two versions of the Doctor. "Did I really break the warp ten barrier?"

"Of course you did." The Doctor said. The Doctor was not as impressed as he should have been. Then he floated back to the other side. He could not speak. He couldn't breathe...he felt heavier. He was changing into something..

"I think I'm evolving. To a higher form…" He said. He wasn't sure which Doctor was with him now.

"Becoming a Q no doubt." The Doctor said. His tone of voice was the same in both realities. Things were starting to merge.

"What am I?" It was hard to talk. "Must remove tongue…"

The opening of the sick bay door was never that loud before. He could feel the room move as someone thudded across the room. He could feel every vibration.

It was Captain Janeway. Who knew that such a tiny woman could make such a commotion by just walking? Then he remembered. Oh yes….and his face flushed bright red. Tilting her head she stared down at him.

"I'm sorry Captain." He said. "I didn't want to leave the children."

"I'm sure you didn't Mr. Paris." She said. "Report Doctor.

"Well from what I gather from the rather sporadic explanations they were able to share Mr. Paris has been saving a gift of several bottles of what he thought was synthetic Romulan ale. Last night he decided to share it it with his friends. This morning they woke up much as you see them here and they naturally assumed this 'friend' of Mr. Paris' substituted the real thing as a bit of a joke and they were 'hung over' but it turns out the bottles contained a Romulan drug. One that makes the victim highly suggestible to the idea of an alternate version of events. They use it to force confessions, making a suspect truly believe he committed a crime when in fact he did not. It is a common tactic of the Tal Shiar or so my data-banks tell me. In this case it seems the imagination of these three need no suggestions. They appear to be doing quite well on their own."

"Slip drugs in a bottle of ale. How …" she began.

"I have no idea how it wound up in the hands of Mr. Paris' friend. The three of them are not with us in this reality at the moment Captain. Mr. Paris apparently had a wonderful flight of fancy where he broke the warp 10 barrier and evolved into something. I have no idea what but apparently he no longer needs his tongue. I have no idea what his references to the children mean. They are in no danger." He paused long enough to allow B'Elanna to vocalize an impressive string of Klingon curses from the other side of the room. "I am afraid it won't wear off until sometime tomorrow morning."

"Very well." The Captain said.

"They are so cute." Tom said. He could see them now crawling along the rocks, exploring. He tried to focus his eyes. He could see more colors than usual in the spectrum.

'Who Mr. Paris."

"Our children. It's Chakotay's fault. He made us leave them there. Him and Tuvok."

"I'm sure they meant it for the best Mr. Paris." She said. She shook her head slightly and did her best to hide a smile.

He woke up in his quarters with a clear head but he wasted time arguing with the computer over the day and time. The normally soothing female voice kept insisting that he had lost a day. Then he remembered. Warp 10, flying, changing... but there was something that wasn't quite right. His memories had a hazy quality to them.

"Computer, where was I yesterday at this time?"

"Lt. Paris was in sickbay." So it did happen.

"And why was I in sickbay."

"You were suffering from the effects of a Romulan Class K Drug."

"Romulan drug? I don't take Romulan drugs. I don't take drugs at all...who takes Romulan drugs? Were we taken over by aliens?" he asked out loud. He immediately dismissed his own question as stupid. What kind of alien in the Delta Quadrant would force him to take something used by the inhabitants of another sector of space?

"There have been no unauthorized boarding by aliens." replied the ever helpful computer.

But it was real. He could remember working on the shuttle, being everywhere at once. He remembered changing. He remembered...crap. He remembered running away with Captain Janeway. What the hell was that about?

No matter if it happened or not he had to report to the Captain. Maybe she could answer the mystery. Captain Janeway. The mother of his children. He winced at the memory.

"Well Mr. Paris, it seems you had quite the adventure. Warp 10?" He could see she was trying not to smile at his discomfort. Her ready room was normally set at a comfortable temperature but now it seemed unusually warm but maybe that wasn't why he was sweating. She had explained the whole messy incident. He winced as he remembered walking into the mess hall with the bottles to share with his friends last night...or was it the night before that?

"I'm sorry Captain. I honestly thought…"

"I know. It was accidental. You need to apologize to your crew mates and in the future I would suggest you scan such 'gifts' before you consume them."

"Yes Captain."

It was over. It was another embarrassing moment to add to a lifetime of embarrassing moments. He hoped his friends weren't too angry with him. Now if they could just forget this ever happened and forget that horrible dream…he was almost to the door and on his way to the bridge when the Captain spoke again.

"Our children, Mr. Paris? I admit that I have thought about having children but I never considered having them with you." He froze. Doubt assailed him again about what was real and what was not but then he heard the amusement in her voice and he knew that the minute he stepped outside her door Captain Janeway would cease to resist her polite restraint and laughter would flood her ready room.

He fervently hoped that this whole affair never ever be mentioned again.