"Here you go, Dad."

My son, *my* son, hands me my granddaughter, and I am in awe to say the least. She's a newborn, just a little over a day old, and my son is.... Almost not my son.

He's changed a lot, for the better. Naturally. He stands beside his wife as I hold their miracle in my arms, postively beaming. Captain Janeway's told me of his remarkable turnabout in their time in the Delta Quadrant, and I must say, he's made me proud.

I tell him so, and he looks as if he's about to cry. Suddenly he walks over to me and gives me a big hug, careful to mind his baby. He touches her head once before he rejoins B'Elanna Torres.

I don't know what to think of her yet. She was the Chief Engineer, but she was also a Maquis. (But so was Tom, I remind myself.) She dropped out of the Academy during her second year, and all those I've talked to about her (and believe me, I've talked to a lot) have told me she has a fiery temper. Her father, however, insists that she's just misunderstood and frustrated.

I hate psychology...

The woman that stands before me looks just as happy as Tom, though. She's not angry, she's not throwing things. She's just standing there, smiling.

I look back down at the bundle in my hands and marvel at what a change something so tiny can bring. Maybe they changed eachother for the most part, but this, my granddaughter, definitely did something, I can tell. A little over a day old and already she's a mover and a shaker. She'll make the family proud.

Hell, she's already made me proud.

"Welcome to the world, Miral."