August 2379

"You're pregnant, Kathryn."

Admiral Kathryn Janeway looked up over the edge of her coffee cup and blinked in confusion. Was this some new tactic to see if she was paying attention to the conversation? To be fair, she hadn't been listening. Trying to talk to her mother and catch up on her work at the same time never went well, but she was always one step behind her paperwork.

"Don't be ridiculous, mother."

Instead of chiding her for not listening or reminding her what she'd been saying, on the other side of the table, Gretchen Janeway was quiet.

Putting the PADD down, Kathryn waited for the end of the joke. When none was forthcoming, she set down her coffee too.

"What is it?"

"What's happening to your breasts?"

She couldn't help rolling her eyes a little then, even if it did get her in trouble. "Nothing."

Her mother left her chair and the set of calculus exams she was grading on the other side of the table and circled to peer over Kathryn's shoulder as if she were judging the space of her cleavage like one of the pumpkins in the garden.

"Your bra's too tight."

Covering the offending mammary glands with her arm, Kathryn sat back from her mother's gaze, now entirely self-conscious.

"It is not."

"It is. I could tell from the other side of the table and it's even more obvious from here. They're swollen."

"They are not." Kathryn moved her arm, releasing some of the pressure she had been putting on her breasts. They were sore, but she had absolutely no intention of letting her mother know that piece of knowledge now. "Maybe I've put on a little weight."

"Your face is thin." Gretchen pulled herself up on the heavy oak table and studied her daughter's cheekbones.

"I put on weight in-"

"Your breasts." Kathryn's mother sighed and looked down at her adult daughter as if she were thirteen again bemoaning the fact that she'd started to grow breasts in the first place.

"Stand up."

"Why?"

"Kathryn, stand up."

She stood. No amount of eye-rolling, staring, pouting or pretending she wasn't listening had ever protected Kathryn from that tone of her mother's. She had to keep her hands on the table when the room spun a little, but her office, her apartment and her mother's house had all been doing that if she stood up too fast.

"Did you see spots?"

"No-" she couldn't lie. Withholding the truth was one thing, lying was unacceptable. "A few."

"Sweetheart, that's a recent thing, isn't it? In the last few weeks." When her mother slid off the table, she patted her shoulder gently. "Let me get my tricorder from the kitchen."

Kathryn sat back down, picked up her PADD and tried not to see the word 'pregnant' instead of every other word that started with the letter 'p'. She couldn't be. It wasn't possible... Technically, she had to correct herself, it might be.

She dropped the PADD, which clattered against the table. Her hands were suddenly cold and she tucked them tightly into her arms.

Starfleet fertility inhibitor shots were effective for three hundred ninety-five days, give or take a few days based on metabolism. That gave each officer a year and a month's grace. Which was enough time for most. Kathryn chronically ran late on her annual physicals, but the extreme lack of intercourse she'd had for most of the last decade made that entirely a non-issue. Chakotay had been just about to leave, maybe he hadn't had his physical yet and his inhibitor shot because he was a captain. She knew how busy captains could be.

It was possible.

Gretchen set the medkit on the table and opened it up. The click of the latch was ominous and Kathryn suddenly wanted to be anywhere but here.

"You are aware that your doctorate is in mathematics, not medicine?"

Her mother opened the tricorder and the steady hum of the little device turned Kathryn's stomach into the Badlands.

"I can't be-"

"Kathryn," her mother paused, keeping the tricorder away for the moment. "Did I ever tell you how I found out I was pregnant with you?"

She was obviously trying to distract from the tricorder, but Kathryn welcomed it.

"You were in Prague at a conference and my father was away." That was all she could remember.

Gretchen's smile softened even more and grew nostalgic. "Your father had just had a few weeks off, before he left to do another rotation with Starfleet Intelligence. That holiday in Kauai is how I got into the beautiful mess that ended with you in my arms. We were just starting to think that maybe the Klingons wouldn't kill us all. The Romulans were the new threat, skulking in the darkness and taking up all of your father's time. I was participating in a panel on the law of quadratic reciprocity in Europe and I kept running late; I overslept constantly when I was pregnant with you.

"I've never liked transporters, never had anything against them, but I've never liked them much either. They were a good deal clumsier back them and they always made me light headed. I was convinced that was the problem. I was dizzy because we kept transporting from one university to the other. Berlin, Oslo, Paris...by the time we were in Prague I was so dizzy and sick to my stomach that one of the other panellists, a brilliant, elderly Andorian woman called Grellis, convinced me to go to the medical centre.

"I remember very clearly trying to tell her that I was fine. I didn't want to cause any trouble. She was one of the senior panellists, a great mathematical mind on Andor, and I was one of the youngest. I hadn't published anything yet besides my thesis. I was the least important, but she rescheduled her talk on Guass' Lemma and how it compared to the Andorian version, by a thaan called Mourdak, to go with me to the Federation medical centre in Prague."

"Wait, wait," Kathryn knew one of the names. "You mean RueGrellis sh'Varidan? The head of Andorian physical sciences? The Federation Hawking chair of mathematics?"

"This was over forty years ago dear, she was just a very famous professor when I knew her. I remember sitting there on the biobed, staring at my hands on my knees and wondering how in the galaxy I was going to get through the next eight months when I could only talk to your father on subspace twice a week."

Kathryn's stomach stopped twisting in fear and her heart ached for her mother. She had known her father was gone for a great deal of her childhood but she didn't know it had started so early. Certainly not that he was gone for most of her mother's pregnancy.

"And?"

"When I started to cry and tell the gentle young doctor with the very Czech accent that I couldn't possibly be pregnant; I was supposed to be working on my tenure, the future Federation Hawking chair of mathematics took my hands in her blue ones and told me over and over that it was going to be all right. We had barely talked at all, she was far too important to be burdened by talking to someone like me.

"We had tea in a little cafe by the Vltava river and she told me about her twelve children, and how each of them terrified her from the moment she knew the egg was inside of her. She still writes me. Charming woman. She'll be so happy to know I'm having finally having a grandchild."

Kathryn shook her head slowly and realised she had been entirely distracted from the tricorder scan her mother had just run.

"You're not...I'm not pregnant."

The tricorder had betrayed her and Kathryn couldn't even look at it when her mother set it down on the table.

"Chakotay's a sweet man. Intelligent. Gentle, great sense of humour and he loves you. I like him. He can cook and you need that. He'll be a good father."

Breath shuddered through her chest. "No. Please don't."

"Oh Kathryn, sweetheart." Her mother wrapped her arms around her and held her close, her head on her chest, just as she had when she was a little girl. "You don't have to be happy, not right away. You're going to be a great mother. I'll try not to embarrass you by being all emotional. I know you hate that, but I am so happy for you."

All Kathryn could smell was her mother's faint perfume and the blackberries she'd brought in that morning. "We only- mom, we were only together once."

"Once?" Gretchen's surprise had a note of sympathy. "I thought you two, I mean, you have that box of his and you always bring it with you."

"We- we're..." Kathryn didn't know what to say. She didn't lift her head from her mother's chest. "We're not even in a relationship yet. We talked about it. I'm meeting him in Venice in June."

Her mother's fingers ran over her hair, smoothing it down. "You might want to try and see him earlier than that."

She might have been laughing, or crying, Kathryn couldn't really be sure what the sound was. "I can't. He's on a mission. He won't even be back until May next year. I-"

"Shhh...what kind of mission? The saving the galaxy kind or the routine kind? I do think they occasionally let captains come home earlier from the routine kind."

"It's a survey mission." Kathryn's voice was becoming less and less audible but her mother would understand. She always had.

"Okay, that sounds routine to me. Come sit on the sofa with me. No more work for now." Kathryn left her chair but kept her fingers wrapped tightly around her mother's hand. She wanted to look at the tricorder, just to make sure her mother was right, but she would be and Kathryn didn't think she could take that.

When they sat down, it took all her self control not to bury her face in her mother's shoulder and cry.

"Can you raise him on subspace? Were you planning to keep in touch?"

"I can send a letter, but I don't know if I can get him in real time. I should tell him in real time, shouldn't I? I can't just send a letter. 'Dear Chakotay I'm having your baby, how's the nebula?"

Her mother chuckled. "Maybe you want to lead into it more. Ask about the nebula first."

She wound her fingers over each other nervously and thought about her coffee cup on the table. As much as she wanted it, she was going to have to give it up. She must have grimaced because Gretchen put her arm around her shoulders.

"You don't have to completely give up coffee."

"I don't know if I can give up coffee at all."

The corner of her mother's mouth turned up in a half-smile. "I didn't think I could either, but once morning sickness kicked in I couldn't even stand the smell of coffee. You haven't felt sick?"

"No." Kathryn dropped her head into her hands and rested her elbows on her knees. "Is it bad?"

"It's not bad." Her mother started rubbing her back and kept going as she spoke. "None of it is bad. Being pregnant is uncomfortable, clumsy, and occasionally intensely frustrating, but it's not bad. It's...well, at times poignant, and sometimes it's wonderful. There's a little tiny person, half you, half someone you love very much, and they're never going to be with you quite that way again. Are you going to find out?"

Kathryn sat up in surprise. "Find out? You just found out on the damned tricorder."

"The gender of the baby." Her mother's gentle tone was a sharp contrast to how much Kathryn wanted to snap at her, or the tricorder, or Chakotay for being so terribly far away.

A baby. Their baby.

She wasn't just pregnant. It wasn't some illness she'd deal with for the next few months before returning to her life: there was a person arriving in the universe at the end of it.

"I can't..." She couldn't face an innocent little baby being entirely dependent on her, not a baby with a gender, who would need a name and a thousand other things.

"Okay," Gretchen soothed. "It's all right. One thing at a time. If it's acceptable, I'll come with you tomorrow, I'm still on summer vacation and I'd like to meet your doctor with you."

"You'd do that?"

"Kathryn, dear, you're my daughter. If there's anything, anything at all, I can do to help you with this. I'd like to be there."

Kathryn grabbed her mother's free hand and held on tight. "Even if there is Starfleet Headquarters?"

"Even if there was Vulcan."

"You hate deserts."

"I love you." Gretchen lifted her chin and smiled at her. "I'm sure San Francisco is lovely in the fall."

"It's foggy."

"As long as it's not hot, dear." She patted Kathryn's hand and then hugged her again. "As long as it's not hot."

"Hello Captain Chakotay. I do hope you're well, dear, and that your survey of the Yaris nebula is proceeding ahead of schedule. I hope you'll forgive me taking some of your undoubtedly busy day to prattle on. At this point, if you haven't listened to Kathryn's letter, you should stop mine and listen to that first. Then, once you've had a cup of tea, or a glass of whiskey, come back to this one."

Then Kathryn's mother stopped speaking, picked up her cup and smiled patiently at the screen.

As tempted as Chakotay was to see how long she sat there, or know what he had to get from Kathryn's first, his resolve failed him. He'd been intending to save her letter, to watch it over and over until he had everything she said memorised. They'd spent a great deal of time at high warp and face-to-face subspace had been impossible. It should improve once they reached the nebula, but so far, they were still travelling.

It had only been weeks since he'd held her in his arms, but it felt like eternity. Venice couldn't come soon enough and after that...he doubted either of them would take a long mission away from each other ever again.

Putting down the PADD he'd been working on, Chakotay called up Kathryn's letter. He'd been saving it, hoarding it like the last ration pack, but now his curiosity was raised.

Unlike her mother, who sat perfectly upright in her chair at the table in Kathryn's apartment, Kathryn had obviously been pacing. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she looked unsettled. He immediately wanted to reach into the screen and hold her until she told him what is was.

Even her smile was tentative, even shy, as if she didn't trust herself to maintain it.

"Hello Chakotay. Are you in the ready room or your quarters? For some reason, I always picture you in your quarters, which used to be mine, and that might be behind my reasoning. I do wish you well, not nearly as much as I wish you were here."

Her voice caught and he nearly choked on his tea. Kathryn Janeway, a Starfleet admiral, looked like she was about to cry.

His door chimed once and he paused the letter. Kathryn's blue eyes stayed with him, including the dark circles beneath them and how pale her skin was.

"Captain, I'm sorry to interrupt." Tom stood in front of him, PADD in hand. "Letter from home? Anyone we know?"

"Just Starfleet brass."

His first officer smirked at him. "The coffee-addicted kind?"

"Perhaps."

"Tell her hi from us." Tom's smile warmed. "B'Elanna and I have been trying to help Miral send her a letter. So far she just babbles at the screen, but we thought the admiral might like that."

"I think she would." Chakotay tried not to sigh. Kathryn looked so miserable, maybe Miral's letter would help. There had to be something he could do.

Tom's head tilted and he studied him. "Everything okay?"

"I didn't get very far." He finally sighed, circling the desk, leaning against it and shaking his head. "She looks ill."

"Starfleet Medical's just down the street. Even our admiral shouldn't be able to avoid them forever." Tom's smile faded when he realised the captain's concern. "May I?" He gestured towards the viewer.

He debated between protecting Kathryn's privacy and gaining Tom's opinion, then he turned the viewer. "I don't think she's been sleeping."

"She's pale. Her eyes are puffy. I'd guess a virus. Want me to have our doc take a look at it?"

Chakotay turned the letter back to him and forced himself not to stare at it. "I'm sure she's fine."

"But you're worried."

Picking up his tea, Chakotay sipped it and kept his eyes on Tom. "I worry occasionally."

Tom shrugged easily. "Hey, you'll get no argument from me, B'Elanna or Harry. We all love the admiral. She's family."

Had he jumped or startled on the word love? Tom's eyes had widened and Chakotay knew what surprise looked like on his first officer's face.

"Captain-"

"We're not." Chakotay stumbled over his words, trying to stop Tom before he walked into something Chakotay couldn't explain. "Not yet, anyway. It's a little complicated."

"Complicated can be fun." Tom nodded his head, letting it go. "If you need..."

"Thank you, Tom. I appreciate that."

"Even captains need to talk sometimes. I know I might not have the best track record with relationships, but I like to think I've been doing pretty well in my current set up."

"Tom," he paused and patted the younger man's shoulder, "you've been an incredible husband and father. I'd be lucky to do so well."

"Thanks." Tom's smile was as good as it got. He was touched, and that meant he'd escape before either of them got too emotional. "She'll be all right, the admiral."

"I know."

"It doesn't make you want to stop being there, does it?"

Chakotay had to smile. "It certainly doesn't." He didn't care if Kathryn just had a bad cold. He wanted to be there, to tell her to drink her tea and make sure she had enough sleep.

The door hissed and he reached for Kathryn's letter again. Not even bothering to turn the viewer around or return to his side of the desk, he resumed where he'd left off.

"I have something I need to tell you." Kathryn pursed her lips and looked down at her hands. "I bet right now you're clenching your jaw because you're worried about me, and I must look like a wreck. My mother says I'm just pale, and no one will notice, I'm always pale, but I know you must, and I'm sorry. Chakotay, I'm so sorry."

That catch in her throat bordered on a sob and he hung on her words as if they were the last forcefield between him and an antimatter explosion.

"I don't want to frighten you, or make you upset but I honestly don't know what to say. I-" she swallowed and it sounded painful. With great effort, she looked straight at him through the light years between them.

"I'm pregnant, Chakotay. I don't know what happened. I mean," her hand rose and waved off his imagined response. "I do know how it happened. I was busy and I didn't make sure my inhibitor was up to date. I assume something must have happened with yours as well, not that I blame you, at all. I..." She stopped, visibly trembling as she stood in front of her comm screen.

"My mother's here, and I'm all right. I really, I mean, I will be. It's just been a hell of a shock." Her eyes dropped down again and her hand hovered near her belly without touching it.

"I've been thinking about Venice. I lie in bed and think about Venice, and I know, more than anything else in the universe that when I get there, you'll be waiting for me, because I'll be the one to be late." Her half-smile crept across her face and put light in her eyes.

"I didn't think I'd be bringing a baby." Kathryn tapped her fingers on her forehead and then dropped them. "I'll send you a medical report, when I can, and I'll keep writing you, with everything that...

"I keep running to my mother like I'm a little girl and it's storming outside. I think abut you and I feel like I can hear what you'd say. How you'd tell me that a baby is just wonderful. You're so much better at smiling and seeing the future than I am. I love that about you."

She paused again, searching for words. "Chakotay, I know this is sudden. I know the timing is absurd. I know a thousand reasons why this is absolutely wrong, but I love you, and now that I know..."

Laughing weakly, she shook her head. "I've scanned myself so many times in the last three days that I'm wearing out my tricorder."

Her hand found her belly and stayed there. "I'm pregnant, Chakotay and as terrified as I am, I know because it's ours, it's going to be all right."

He stared at her, dumbstruck, as he listened to the rest of the message. Kathryn was taking a week off to cope. She hadn't been sick much, but she wasn't sure she wouldn't be. Her mother was staying with her and talking about taking a sabbatical to be available for Kathryn through the rest of her pregnancy. Starfleet Medical had assigned her midwife, and she was meeting her on Friday. Tomorrow morning, by his time.

Kathryn ended the letter with the idea that she was due in March, smiling a little. Perhaps Voyager could make it back before then.

His fingers fumbled as he started it and watched it again, sinking into the chair in front of his desk. He stroked the screen, staring into her eyes as she rambled through her shock and uncertainty.

"I'm pregnant, Chakotay..."

Pregnant. The ready room reeled around him, as if he had jumped to warp on his own. Kathryn was terrified, obviously a little under the weather, but she loved him, and she was carrying their child.

He stared at Kathryn's image for a long time. There were traces of her smile in her eyes, and there was hope in her voice beneath the shock. She would put on a brave front for him but he knew how to look through the cracks. As exhausted and fearful as she was, she was trying. She could be happy, when it wore away and she relaxed into what was happening to her.

He wanted to turn the ship around and fly back to Earth at maximum warp. He wanted to hold her until all the trembling went away and she was smiling when she talked about the baby. His uniform and his duty had only been more confining when his father had died.

He would turn his back on neither, now, because he loved his ship and his crew nearly as much as he loved Kathryn. She'd love him as a civilian. If he walked away, she'd love him, but the guilt would eat at her, no matter what he said.

Chakotay looked at his desk, but he couldn't work. He could barely stop himself from laughing and bursting out of the ready room to run laps around the ship. That was it. He was done for the day. Tom could keep the bridge and Starfleet could wait.

He was going to be a father. Kathryn was carrying their child. He needed to mediate; to tell his father what he knew. He had to write Kathryn back, tell her how happy he was; reassure her somehow from light-years away, that she was all right.

Everything was all right.

Leaving the ready room, he tried to keep his expression neutral, but failed utterly when he met Tom's eyes. His smile might have been far too bright for the occasionally of passing the watch, but he couldn't help himself.

He glided down to his quarters. The melancholy and the guilt that he was here and she was on Earth lurched somewhere in the bottom of his stomach but he was so happy he was only vaguely aware of it. Chakotay stopped, inside his quarters and stood in front of the door, smiling into the darkness around him. Even now, the captain's quarters on Voyager still reminded him of her, and the cherished dinners they'd shared.

Shaking himself down back to reality, he went to the replicator and ordered the tea Kathryn's mother had suggested.

Kathryn's mother had sent him a letter. His memory brought up that smile and he chuckled. She definitely knew, and she was happy. It seemed like everyone but Kathryn was. The urge to do something to ease her shock washed over him again.

He had to write her back, even if he stammered and grinned like an idiot through his letter. Maybe that would help her, if she saw how incredibly happy he was. Chakotay wanted her, and if she came with their child...life couldn't be much better than that.

His lips almost ached from smiling.

"Computer, resume playback of the transmission from Gretchen Janeway."

Too excited to sit, he stood, blowing across the top of his tea as she looked back towards him and began to speak. Her deep blue eyes were so much like Kathryn's.

"Congratulations." She beamed at him, sitting forward in her chair. "I wanted to say that in the beginning, but I had to let Kathryn be the one to tell you. She will be happy, eventually. I know you know that, but it might help to have it reinforced."

"I love my daughter, Captain Chakotay, and since she's so head over heels in love with you, I'm going to consider you family. I know we've only met a handful of times, but I feel like I know you, at least, I know Kathryn's version of you. Based on that I'm willing to give both of you my blessing."

She picked up her cup and winked at him. "Do me a favour and tell her I made you work for it."

After she sipped her tea, Gretchen tilted her head to the side and studied him thoughtfully. "Your knowledge of me must be equally second hand, so, I'll make you an offer. Kathryn trusts you, so I will. Any questions, any history, anything you need to know abut your new family, ask, and I'll be honest with you. I'll expect the same honesty in return, which won't be a problem for you. Kathryn tells me you've always been truthful with her. You're her compass."

"Coming from an explorer, that's quite the compliment." She swirled her tea and her smile faded into motherly concern. Would Kathryn speak of their child that way? Chakotay had to reverse the message when he missed some of what Gretchen said. All he could think about was Kathryn and their baby.

"She didn't know, or even suspect she was pregnant, poor dear. It took a bit of convincing to even have her consider that there might be a reason why her bra was too tight and her head was spinning when she stood up. Which, so far, are her most serious symptoms. I know she looks like she's been living in a Cardassian prison, but it seems to be superficial. We can hope it stays that way."

"The foetus is healthy. Conception was easy to pinpoint, thank you for that, and we're talking about a late March, early April baby. I love spring, and the snow will be gone here. I know you're not scheduled back until June, but I'm going to keep up hope that that nebula of yours is just this much smaller than originally thought. Something to bring you home a few weeks early would be nice."

"Kathryn has this week off, so we've been putting in a garden on her balcony of that apartment of hers in San Francisco. I'm sure you've seen it. Plenty of sunlight and she's spoken so fondly of a garden she once had with you, that I thought it would help. She needs a hobby. Something that reminds her of you and being happy seems like a good idea."

She set down her tea and leaned forward. With her hands on her knees, she resembled her daughter very much.

"If you have questions, or worries or things you think are absolutely trivially insane that you must say to someone, write me back. I love my daughter, and since she loves you, it appears I will do the same. Take care of yourself, and your ship. We're going to need you home in one piece. Early would be wonderful."

Gretchen smiled again then disappeared. The Federation symbol hovered the screen and Chakotay smiled at it. He would have smiled at anything.

Kathryn was having their baby. As surprising as it was, the news had raced through him and left nothing but light. He wasn't sure how long it would last, but he had to write her back, he had to tell her he was happy. Maybe that would help ease her fears.

The sonic cleanser hummed over the sink on Kathryn's left. The sink had water too, because there was something physiologically comforting about washing your hands in water, even if it was more hygienic to use sound waves. She didn't look up. Admirals had semi-private toilets, and the only people who used this particular one were herself, Admiral Nechayev and their rare visitors. Their aides tended to use the public toilets down the corridor.

Kathryn and Alynna Nechayev talked little. She knew the elder woman had been an admiral longer than many of the human ones, and a little longer than a few of the aliens. Nechayev's rise through the ranks had been efficient enough to border on the meteoric, but she'd never laid any claims on Kirk's record, like a few, charming young male cadets Kathryn had known.

What she knew of Alynna, she knew in passing. The other admiral liked crepes, hated wasted resources, and had been an ice queen of a captain.

Kathryn let the last part slide. She had a nagging suspicion that ice and a few other choice adjectives had been tossed her way on Voyager. Now Alynna worked security and interstellar conflict, while Kathryn had been assigned, in Starfleet's great wisdom, to first contact and trade.

Apparently making more first contacts than any other captain, including Picard and Srulla, had made her somewhat of an expert. Not that she felt like one. She didn't meet new species any more; captains did that. Kathryn only filed their paperwork. She read their reports and tried to determine what each new species would gain from Federation trade relations.

The report she'd been trying to read for most of the morning, on an aquatic race called the Yxelmeliquanizzi, or was it Yxelmelzuaniqqi... Didn't matter who they were, really. The report had been swimming in front of her eyes, and the constant descriptions of water and swells had been creating a new and unpleasant tide in her stomach.

She was going to kill Chakotay. If he'd found the time to make his physical, none of this would be happening.

"I didn't know you were going to Romulus."

Kathryn blinked, swallowing the part of her stomach that seemed to constantly be in her throat. The person who had been washing her hands was now talking to her.

She was expected to respond.

"I'm not." Simple answer. Maybe the person would give up and...

"Oh, I thought..." The person with her, distinctive voice identifying her as Alynna, paused. "Why did you get the Cuperic fever vaccine?"

Kathryn had to turn her head. She hated the necessity. She'd been leaning over the sink, staring down at the marble and dark duranium alloy. Her hands were cold, even cramped, and she had no idea how long she'd been standing there.

Turning her head just enough to look at Alynna, she frowned. "What vaccine?"

"The new Cuperic fever vaccine medical came up with. Everyone on the Romulan trade delegation has to get it. Jellico and Ross have been green since yesterday. You looked a little..."

That pause, again. The same one Kathryn's mother had when they talked about how she looked.

Kathryn sighed and stood up. Pushing off from the sink got her upright, but her head wasn't connected properly to the rest of her body and protested accordingly. Grabbing the edge of the sink again, Kathryn had to be grateful for the small hand that steadied her shoulder.

"Shaky." Alynna finished. Was that sympathy in her voice? When had Kathryn become so damn terrible at reading tone?

Alynna's hand remained on her shoulder, a strange lifeline to the outside world, where things held still. Everything inside Kathryn was swirling or carrying on the tide.

"Do you want me to comm over to medical for a doctor?"

One of the supposed perks of Starfleet Headquarters was that Starfleet Medical was just across the street. It made it a lot harder to avoid than sickbay.

"It's nothing."

That wasn't a real answer, but maybe it would be enough for Alynna to give up and leave. She'd been sympathetic. She'd expressed her concern. That was enough and Alynna could go back to what she'd been doing. Unless, of course, she was actually concerned.

Alynna's hand crept up to the back of Kathryn's neck and rested there, cool and still. Kathryn longed to be still, but she'd been in motion for the last two weeks, and Voyager's inability to report in at warp was making all of it worse.

"'It's nothing' meaning you're fine or 'it's nothing' meaning you already know what's causing the problem, and we're not worrying about it?"

Problem solving: the mark of a good officer.

Kathryn let her eyelids flit closed. Darkness made it easier to concentrate on simple things, like speech.

"The latter."

"Kathryn-"

"Hmm?"

"Why are you at the office?" Alynna's sympathy had faded into an amused kind of pity. "We have sick days."

"It wasn't-"

"This bad when you left your apartment," Alynna finished the statement. "Okay. Sit."

"What?"

"Sit down, knees up, head between them."

Alynna was almost as bad as Kathryn's mother; she pried Kathryn's grip off the sink and sat down next to her on the cool floor of the nicest toilet Kathryn had ever had.

Alynna tapped the sink with her hand and it obediently opened a drawer full of towels. Water ran into the basin over Kathryn's head, and she tried to to let the spots on the marble floor swim together. The other woman sat down cross legged in front of her, still perfectly poised and slipped the damp towel onto the back of Kathryn's neck. "If you're not planning some leisure trip to Romulus, what's the matter?"

Laughing was not one of Kathryn's brighter ideas, but the sheer ridiculousness of the situation made it impossible to push aside. Starfleet admirals did not sit on the floor in the toilets and talk about their personal lives. What would the Romulans think?

She was going to have to tell Alynna, and after her she'd have to tell her superiors, and an ever-growing list of people. Kathryn had already written to Tuvok, but she'd been too embarrassed to speak with him on the Titan in real time. She'd have to write B'Elanna and Tom, before they thought she was keeping secrets, and then it would get around the fleet. The Doctor would fuss. Seven was already going through so much with the new Borg threat, she didn't want to make the younger woman uncomfortable. Captain Riker would tease her. Picard would probably send a tasteful bottle of wine that she wouldn't be able to drink for the next year.

None of them were here. Only Admiral 'Ice Queen' Nechayev and the walls of the toilet.

Kathryn lifted her gaze to Alynna's. "I'm pregnant."

Very gently, Alynna patted the back of Kathryn's hand as it clutched her knee. "And here I thought you were married to the 'fleet, like I am. You know, when I received my Admiral's bars, the saying was babies, grandchildren or married to the fleet. All the female admirals had either rushed past the captain's chair to have children, were already comfortably of an age where they could watch their grandchildren head to the Academy, or married to the fleet. I suppose you fooled me into thinking you were the latter."

"I should-"

To Kathryn's surprise, Alynna waved her quiet. "No one will come looking for us. We're the brass, remember? If you'll permit me to ask...how far along are you?"

She didn't know. How could she not...Kathryn sighed again with a little shake of her head. "Ten weeks."

"May I assume from the way you look like someone's taken over your starship that you and the captain didn't plan this baby?"

A baby...it really was a baby. That part was still unbelievable.

Alynna's hand rested on Kathryn's knee, and then ran up and down her shin. "Voyager's been out of comm traffic for how long, the last month? He didn't know when he left, did he?"

What could she say? How could it be that easy to guess that Kathryn had to tell Chakotay he was about to become a father over subspace? One he couldn't even respond to until Voyager was through the heavy ion activity and dropped out of warp.

"Kathryn," Alynna's voice dropped, softening even further. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry you have to go through by yourself. Captain Chakotay's a good man, he'll be an excellent father. I've read his file."

Kathryn laughed weakly, Alynna's attempt to cheer her up worked a little. Of course, the other admiral had never met Chakotay, but that his file proved he'd be a good father was typical Starfleet reasoning. Everything about them was in their files. Hers probably read Loves children but still doesn't think she's ready for one.

She wasn't. She was no more prepared to be a parent than she knew how to deal with her unrelenting nausea and the damn dizziness that came with it. It was all one giant mess of hormones and Chakotay didn't even know it was his fault.

Which it wasn't but thinking it was made her feel a little better.

Alynna Necheyev, the not-so-frigid Ice Queen, held her hand until Kathryn's stomach stopped twisting and getting to her feet stopped feeling like the worst suggestion since repulser beams.