Ad Infinitum

Disclaimer: Star Trek and its characters are the property of Viacom/Paramount/CBS, and I am just borrowing them for fun, not profit.

Synopsis: Set during various periods of time post-"Endgame." PG-13.

When Tom Paris and B'Elanna Torres prepare to send their first daughter to Starfleet Academy, they are unprepared for her coming of age. As she becomes involved with Harry Kim's son, life quickly spirals out of control for them and ultimately leads to a new journey for their younger daughter. Because this story deals with time travel, it may seem inconsistent with canon – but keep reading and it will make sense.

Pairings: P/T, K/f, J/C, Miral Paris/m, others.

Language Note: Klingon expressions were translated using several different sources. I have not provided the English translations here, as the meaning should be more or less evident from context.

Part One: No Time Like the Present

Synopsis: Set during various periods of time post-"Endgame."

Miral Paris, the daughter of B'Elanna Torres and Tom Paris, and her friend Andrew Kim, the son of Harry Kim, are preparing to enter Starfleet Academy. But after eighteen years of friendship, things between them are starting to change – and their parents struggle to deal with what that means for the future.

Chapter 1: Earth, Northern Californian Wilderness, 2396

"Mom, Andrew and I are going for a walk around the lake, okay?"

B'Elanna looked up from the vegetables she was chopping. "Okay, have fun." She smiled knowingly. "And take your sister."

"Mother," Miral said patiently, "first of all, she's not little, and she doesn't need to be looked after. Second, your attempts at keeping me from being alone with Andrew are feeble – and unnecessary. We're just friends. We've always been just friends."

"You're too smart for your own good."

Miral leaned down as if she was going to kiss her mother's cheek but instead stole a piece of carrot and plopped it into her mouth. "Whatever you say, Mother." She tucked her brown hair behind her ear. "Andrew! Let's go!"

The young man arrived in a flash, and the two bounded off together.

"What was that?" Harry asked, sliding into the seat next to B'Elanna. He stole a piece of carrot from the pile.

"If everyone keeps pilfering the food," she informed him, "there won't be any left for dinner." She waved the knife toward his hand as he tried again. "Harry, I think the day we've been dreading has finally arrived."

"Oh no."

"Oh yes."

Tom plopped down across the table from them and grabbed a piece of carrot. "What?" he asked, mouth full, as they both stared at him. "I'm hungry. When's dinner?"

"Whenever you step in and tell me to stop working on it," B'Elanna answered. "You know cooking isn't my forte."

Tom grinned. "You're not making a soufflé, B'Elanna. You're chopping vegetables to throw in a pot of hot water. What could possibly go wrong?"

"You could end up in the pot with them."

"All right, give me the knife." She passed it to him blade-first with a challenging expression on her face. He ignored the look and carefully took the knife from her hands to resume the chopping.

"Did you know about Miral and Andrew?" Harry asked his friend.

Tom nearly sliced a finger off, but he quickly recovered. "I caught her sending him a message at 0300."

"When was that?" Harry asked him.

"About two months ago."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"What was I supposed to say?"

Harry frowned. "What are we going to do about this?"

"We're not going to do anything," B'Elanna said, leaning her elbows on the table. "It's none of our business. Besides, the more we try to keep them apart, the more interested they'll be in each other."

"Come on, Harry," Tom added. "Your son could do a lot worse than my daughter."

"I don't even know if I want to be in Starfleet," Miral admitted, dangling her bare feet in the water.

"You'd better decide soon," Andrew said, sitting down next to her. He pulled his own shoes off. "We're supposed to report to the Academy in two weeks."

Miral sighed. "Andrew, don't you ever get tired of hearing about all the amazing things your dad's done? The legendary Ensign Kim of Voyager?"

"I guess sometimes," Andrew admitted, "but usually it just makes me want to be like him."

"Okay, but it's not just my dad. It's my mom and Grandpa and 'Weren't you the baby born in the Delta Quadrant?' Sometimes I wonder if I really want to go to the Academy or if it's just the only life I know."

"You said you wanted to study xenobiology."

"I can do that anywhere."

"What about traveling and exploring?"

Miral rolled her eyes. "It's not hard to get on a passenger ship and go somewhere if you want to."

"Well, what about me? I'm going to the Academy, and I wanted to start classes with you." He looked at her plaintively.

Miral studied his face for a moment. She'd been looking at that face as long as she could remember. It was one of her earliest memories. Recently, though she didn't know how or why, looking at Andrew had changed for her. His face had begun to make her heart beat faster and make her own face redden. She suspected her mother knew, though she never said anything out right, and she was embarrassed that her father had caught her talking to Andrew in the middle of the night. The fact that they were talking late at night was ordinary enough; they'd been best friends since birth. It was the fact that she was sneaking a message to him, Miral knew, that raised Tom's suspicions. At any rate, Miral knew how things worked between her parents. If one of them knew, the other did, and if both of them knew, she could probably bet that Harry and Libby would find out soon enough. And, of course, L'Naan knew; she and Miral had never been able to keep secrets from each other for very long, and L'Naan was too good at sensing those kinds of things. Everyone in the Torres-Paris-Kim world, it seemed, knew she was infatuated with Andrew. Miral just couldn't tell if Andrew himself knew – or if he felt the same.

"Hey!"

Miral's thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of her younger sister. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Lately L'Naan was clingier than usual. Perhaps it was because she knew Miral would soon be going to the Academy, or perhaps it was because she sensed someone else was capturing Miral's attention. But their mother had been on a kick lately about them getting along, and Miral had promised to be nice.

"Hi," she said flatly.

"Hey, L'Naan," Andrew said a little more politely.

"What are you guys talking about?" L'Naan asked. She sat down next to Miral and promptly kicked off her shoes.

"None of your business."

"The Academy," Andrew said with a sharp look toward Miral. An only child, he never quite understood how she could be so cruel to her sister sometimes.

"Do you think you'll take any of Commander Icheb's classes?" L'Naan asked, splashing her feet in the water. "Wouldn't that be funny?"

"Miral will definitely end up in his Borg biotechnology seminar if she studies xenobiology," Andrew said. "It's a shame they retired the Kobayashi Maru. I always wanted to see if I could beat it like Kirk did."

Miral sighed. "Can we please talk about something other than the Academy? I am sick of hearing about Starfleet."

"What's wrong with Starfleet?" Tom's voice called from behind them. He took a seat to the left of his younger daughter and affectionately rubbed her knee. "Are you rethinking the Academy, munchkin?" he asked Miral.

"Dad!" she protested. "I'm eighteen! Can you please stop calling me 'munchkin'?"

"Okay, Miss Paris. The Academy?"

"Um, it's nothing." Andrew nudged her. She shoved him back before leaning around L'Naan to talk to their father. "I'm not sure if I really want to go anymore."

"Okay," Tom said slowly, "what do you want to do instead?"

"I still want to study xenobiology, but, Dad, you're not going to force me to go to the Academy, are you?"

"Have your mother and I ever forced you to do anything?"

"All the time!"

"When?"

"When you made us do the Rite of Ascension and eat asparagus –"

L'Naan interrupted, "When you made us take bat'leth lessons when I wanted to take ballet. Remember, Dad?"

Tom smiled. It was all in the name of heritage and health. Things that counted – like being allowed to choose their own career paths – were things he and B'Elanna left alone. When the girls were older, he supposed, they'd understand. "Well, how did those times work out?"

"Um, my Rite of Ascension guide ended up in the hospital," Miral recalled. She couldn't help laughing.

"I always vomited the asparagus up," L'Naan added. "And I still got to take ballet."

Tom kissed her temple. "You were much better at ballet than the bat'leth."

"Actually, Dad," Miral said, "you're the only one of us who's any good at that Klingon stuff."

"True." Tom realized they were neglecting the fourth in their party. "Andrew, what about you? Rethinking Starfleet?"

"No way!" Andrew replied. "I just want to fly a starship."

"He's going to break all your flying records," L'Naan teased.

"Dad, did you come over here for a reason?" Miral asked.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot. Dinner's ready. Let's go."

"So, what's the story?" B'Elanna murmured as Tom rejoined her, Harry, and Libby at their table. They watched their three teenagers sit down together at a separate table, arguing as usual.

"She's rethinking Starfleet, she's completely enamored and won't admit it, and I don't think Andrew knows she's alive."

"Don't look so relieved, Harry," B'Elanna warned, watching Harry's face brighten.

Libby laughed. "You don't honestly think he'd be upset at the idea of Miral and Andrew, do you?"

B'Elanna did not answer but eyed Libby warily. They'd known each other for a long time, but maternal protectiveness could easily bring down their friendship. B'Elanna was only ever a heartbeat away from attack if she felt a threat to either daughter.

"Easy there," Tom told her softly, as he grinned at Harry. "You didn't tell me Andrew wants to fly."

"A new development," Harry told him. "After he found out that tactical involves daily hand-to-hand training in the first semester."

"Are you sure he's your son, Harry?" B'Elanna teased.

Harry shook his head. "He won't be on the Parrises' squares team, that's for sure. That part of him is all Libby."

"If that's intended as an insult," his wife interrupted, "it won't work. I love that Andrew isn't rough and violent."

"Anyway," Harry continued to Tom, "will you take him out for a lesson?"

"I've taken him flying before," Tom reminded him.

"Yeah, but not since he wanted to become a pilot. Please?"

"Sure, Har. We can go after dinner."

"Not after sunset," Libby declared. "Not in the dark."

"Shuttles have sensors, Lib," Tom teased her. "Pretty dark in space, you know." He winked at her.

"Fine," she relented, unable to suppress a smile. "But don't leave the atmosphere."

"Okay, now make sure the inertial dampers are online," Tom encouraged. He monitored Andrew's progress from his console. "Good, now set your course…And initiate launch sequence." The small craft lifted off the surface and neatly moved over the Californian wilderness and then the Pacific Ocean. "Hey, good job, buddy."

"Commander Paris, can I ask you something?"

"'Commander'? Since when do you call me by rank?"

"I just figured that since I'm going to the Academy, I should start."

"Do me a favor. If we're ever on the bridge of a starship together, you can call me Commander. Otherwise, let's just stick with Tom."

"Okay, Tom," Andrew continued, "can I ask you a question?"

"Sure. Verify course heading."

Andrew's tan fingers glossed the helm controls. His dark eyes were serious, not unlike Harry's. Then he looked out the viewport more contemplatively. "Uh, Tom, I – I just wanted to know if – what you would think about – "

Tom watched silently as Andrew fumbled. He sensed what was coming with dread. He had miscalculated before, assuming Andrew's reticence to be disinterest. He now realized that, like his parents, Andrew was an observer who took in the world around him before acting – the opposite of Miral with her impetuous nature. More, Tom realized, Andrew's observations had been focused on Miral.

"So," Andrew finished, clearing his throat, "do I have your permission?"

"Drew, I don't think it's my permission you need."

With Tom and Andrew gone, and a roaring fire keeping the campsite lit as the sun set in the distance, Harry decided the time was ripe for a scary story. It had been his tradition during their camping trips for years. Unfortunately, the kids had gotten too old and too jaded for such a tradition, and it took more than a little coaxing to convince Miral and L'Naan to sit with him and listen.

Libby and B'Elanna remained at the table where they'd eaten dinner with fresh cups of coffee, watching.

"It's official," Libby declared. "My son has a case of hero-worship for Tom, and Harry has turned into one of those old men who thinks he's a lot funnier than he really is. I mean, look at him. He's worse than Reg Barclay."

B'Elanna nearly snorted. "And Tom isn't?"

"Speaking of old men," Libby said seriously, "how's your father?"

"He's okay. He's getting treatment for the blood disease, and he just had corrective surgery on his eyes." She twirled her coffee mug on the table. "But he's old, and there's only so much medicine can do. Sometimes I wonder who'll last longer – him or the admiral."

"Admiral Paris? That man will outlive all of us."

"So what do you really think about Miral and Andrew?"

Libby shook her head. "You first."

"I think they're well-suited to each other," B'Elanna said slowly, gazing at her daughter across the campsite, "but I think they both have a lot of growing up to do."

"Agreed."

"But I don't think we can tell them that," she added.

"No," Libby confirmed. "They're smart kids. They'll figure it out." She followed B'Elanna's gaze to the fire, and her eyes fixed on Harry. "It's Tom and Harry we should be worried about. I think they both still think of them as children."

B'Elanna nodded. "Something about having teenage daughters has regressed Tom into a Neanderthal."

"Oh, Harry's just as bad," Libby assured her. "Gender equality must have come further than we realized. He's as protective of Andrew as Tom is of Miral."

"And if they start dating…" B'Elanna mused.

"It isn't going to be pretty," Libby answered with a wry smile.

"Thanks, Tom," Andrew said appreciatively as they exited the shuttle.

Tom slapped him on the back as they made their way back to camp. "I think you'll make one hell of a pilot, kid."

They were greeted by Libby, now wearing a shawl to fend off the chill of the night air. "That was some fancy flying. Who was responsible?"

"All Drew," Tom said generously.

"Not bad," she told her son. "Thanks, Tom."

"Any time."

"Your father and I are getting ready to head home. Are you coming with us?"

"I'll be home later," he said.

Libby raised an eyebrow. "Don't be too late."

"I won't," Andrew pledged.

They had come upon the rest of the group, now gathered around the fire. Harry was telling another story to B'Elanna and the girls. From his animated gestures, it looked as though he was trying to scare them, but from their deadpan expressions, they didn't seem convinced.

Tom took a seat next to B'Elanna and put his hand on her knee. As she turned to him, a smile curving her lips, L'Naan cried, "Har-ry! That's the dumbest story I've ever heard!"

Harry shrugged. "I tried."

Libby leaned down and kissed his cheek before murmuring, "It's time to go home."

Harry nodded and stood. "Ladies, it's always a pleasure entertaining you."

Miral sprang to her feet and kissed his cheek affectionately. L'Naan followed suit. Then each received a tender kiss on the forehead from Libby.

Tom stood up and quickly hugged his old friend. "See you around, buddy."

"Good night," B'Elanna said to Libby with a hug. She hugged Harry as well. "Bye, Starfleet." Now that she wasn't in Starfleet anymore, B'Elanna enjoyed teasing her friend with his old nickname. But he hadn't yet seemed to come up with a good one in return.

"Bye, Klingon liaison," he tried. They both shook their heads; it wasn't a good moniker.

Tom and B'Elanna rejoined their daughters, who were melting marshmallows on spears at the fire. Tom took B'Elanna's hand in his own, nuzzling her cheek with his face. "I can't believe how old they are," he whispered. "My little girls."

"I can't believe how old we are," she replied, leaning her head further into his.

Miral nudged L'Naan and pointed to them. "Looks like that honeymoon photo."

L'Naan smiled. "I don't think Lenaris's parents are really in love," she said. "They don't even sit together when they have dinner. I guess we're lucky."

"Yeah," Miral said softly as she watched their parents kiss. Like L'Naan, she had several friends whose parents didn't seem to care very much for each other. Only a few years ago, she'd complained to her mother that her displays of affection were inappropriate and disgusting. She'd never considered how fortunate she and L'Naan might have been to grow up in such a warm, affectionate household.

"You know," L'Naan continued pointedly, "Starfleet brought them together."

Miral leaned her elbows on her knees and studied her sister for a moment. "When did you get so smart, little sister?"