Disclaimer in Chapter One.
~*~*~*~
"I'm headed off to the shipyard," Tom called, grabbing his winter coat and heading for the front door.
"Oh no you don't, the whole family is coming over for lunch today," B'Elanna said, running over to block the door. "Besides, it's Saturday. You don't work today."
"Look, I have to go in and finish a few things up. I promise to be home in 3 or 4 hours, maybe less if you let me leave now," Tom said, slightly aggravated.
"The family will be here in a little over 2 hours. I have lunch in the oven, but I could really use your hand in picking up around here," B'Elanna said, looking over Tom's shoulder at the mess of a house behind him. "And besides, I can't take care of Quince right now," B'Elanna said, her voice strained with sorrow and a slight twinge of pain. Tom sighed and glanced up at his aged wife. Almost as though on cue, there was a muffled crying down the hallway. After a short silence between the two, a smile tugged at his cheeks in surrender.
"Fine, fine," Tom muttered, hanging his coat back up. B'Elanna gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and went back to the kitchen, her silvery gray hair spinning around her shoulder. Tom watched her in fascination, and then shaking his head back into reality at the sound of the baby crying, he continued down the hallway. "Ah the Klingon warrior lungs," he muttered, twitching at the shrieking scream. He picked up Quince, who was just around the age to walk, and held the baby's head over his shoulder. "You're getting way to old for this by my watch," Tom said with a laugh. Just then the doorbell announced the arrival of a guest.
"I've got it," B'Elanna called from the kitchen. Tom walked around the room, trying but failing to quiet the screaming child. There was commotion and energy in the living room as people entered their household.
"I guess the family came a little earlier than we expected..." Tom said, walking down the hallway back into the living room. The room was full of happiness as he entered.
"Grandpa, Grandpa, Grandpa!" a little girl who trotted over to Tom said.
"Ah, Emily, you've grown too much," Tom said, bending down, giving her hug and a kiss. "How old are you now?"
"4 and a half," Emily stated proudly, placing her hands on her hips. The rest of the room smiled and laughed. Tom laid Quince down on the couch to suffer Emily's tortures, and went over to greet the rest of the family.
"Dad," said a laughing feminine voice. Tom walked over to her and gave her a huge hug. "I swear you look older everyday."
"Thanks a lot," Tom laughed. "Ah, Peter, you treating my Miral well?" Tom asked to the young man behind her.
"Yes, sir," Peter said, laughing.
"Good to hear. Otherwise I might let the whole Klingon wrath of this family attack you," Tom joked, making the family laughed. Tom went on to greet his other daughter, Taya, her husband John, and their two children, Mark, who was 7 and René, who was 13. The children ran off down the hallway, René carrying Quince on her side. The adults sat down in the living room as the light smell of roasting chicken and potatoes filled the air. There was a tense and awkward silence; everyone had the same thought on his or her mind. Where's TJ? It was as though they all knew what each other was thinking, but too afraid to pipe up the question just in case they weren't. They had been all smiles, for the children's sake, but now, it was serious.
"Where is he this time?" Miral asked her hands intertwined in fist propped up on her knees. Tom and B'Elanna took each other's hand and shared a glance. Tom sighed.
"We're not sure," he said, his voice not so cheery, and his expression very saddened. "The last time we saw TJ, he dropped off Quince and asked for some money. That was about 6, 7 months ago."
"You gave him more drug and gambling money?" Taya asked, fiery with rage.
"No, of course not," B'Elanna said, trying to hide her equal rage under the motherly exterior. "He said he was going to change this time. TJ swore he was going to go to rehab about those kinds of things, and start all over again."
"You're serious?" Miral asked, with scoff. "You think he needs money to go to rehab? TJ can get into any rehab for free, it's all charity funded. Why do you two have to be such damned fools?"
"Hey, watch your mouth young lady. That's no way to speak to either of us," Tom said, his face a serious grimace. Miral released hot hair through her nose as Peter wrapped his arm around her. "We're trying our best here. What if Emily need money, and swore she was going to use it for good? You wouldn't just refuse her and throw her out, would you?" Miral looked up at Peter. "I thought so."
"Any word from Quince's mother?" Taya asked, changing the subject.
"We've never even met her," B'Elanna sighed. "But we've tried finding and contacting her, but Starfleet has turned up nothing."
"The Doc ran several genetics tests on Quince, and narrowed the search down some, but not enough to get anywhere useful. He sent the case to Jupiter Station for further analysis and we're hoping for the best," Tom said, B'Elanna's grip tightening in support. Just then the door opened to show a bright light with a white snow background. The family glanced up from the living room with shivers from the incoming breeze. The entering figure stumbled around, and dropped the paper sack in his hands. It shattered on the floor beneath him, just as he collapsed over it. Everyone leapt up and ran over to the scene. His body was cold. "Throw me that tricorder," Tom yelled at John who had stayed back. John turned around and grabbed the small parcel, gently tossing it over to Tom. Tom opened it and frantically scanned the young man. "He's still alive, but we need to get him to Starfleet Medical. Now."
~*~*~*~
"Thank you so much for watching him," B'Elanna said in the doorway wearing a heavy coat as snow pelted down behind her.
"Anything for an old friend," Harry said with a smile, taking Quince from her.
"I'll call you when I can," B'Elanna said, walking off. Harry nodded and the door closed as he walked into the living room of his small apartment. The baby was screaming uncontrollably.
"You're definitely your grandmother's child," Harry mumbled, digging through the diaper bag for toys. Anything that would shush this ear- piercing child. "Please, just be quiet for just a second while Uncle Harry tries to find your bunny," Harry pleaded hopelessly. With a heavy sigh, Harry set the flailing child on the floor. Quince screamed at the top of his lungs, making Harry jump and fall over. Huge crocodile tears poured endlessly down the infant's cheeks. "This is going to be a very long night..."
~*~*~*~
~*~*~*~
"I'm headed off to the shipyard," Tom called, grabbing his winter coat and heading for the front door.
"Oh no you don't, the whole family is coming over for lunch today," B'Elanna said, running over to block the door. "Besides, it's Saturday. You don't work today."
"Look, I have to go in and finish a few things up. I promise to be home in 3 or 4 hours, maybe less if you let me leave now," Tom said, slightly aggravated.
"The family will be here in a little over 2 hours. I have lunch in the oven, but I could really use your hand in picking up around here," B'Elanna said, looking over Tom's shoulder at the mess of a house behind him. "And besides, I can't take care of Quince right now," B'Elanna said, her voice strained with sorrow and a slight twinge of pain. Tom sighed and glanced up at his aged wife. Almost as though on cue, there was a muffled crying down the hallway. After a short silence between the two, a smile tugged at his cheeks in surrender.
"Fine, fine," Tom muttered, hanging his coat back up. B'Elanna gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and went back to the kitchen, her silvery gray hair spinning around her shoulder. Tom watched her in fascination, and then shaking his head back into reality at the sound of the baby crying, he continued down the hallway. "Ah the Klingon warrior lungs," he muttered, twitching at the shrieking scream. He picked up Quince, who was just around the age to walk, and held the baby's head over his shoulder. "You're getting way to old for this by my watch," Tom said with a laugh. Just then the doorbell announced the arrival of a guest.
"I've got it," B'Elanna called from the kitchen. Tom walked around the room, trying but failing to quiet the screaming child. There was commotion and energy in the living room as people entered their household.
"I guess the family came a little earlier than we expected..." Tom said, walking down the hallway back into the living room. The room was full of happiness as he entered.
"Grandpa, Grandpa, Grandpa!" a little girl who trotted over to Tom said.
"Ah, Emily, you've grown too much," Tom said, bending down, giving her hug and a kiss. "How old are you now?"
"4 and a half," Emily stated proudly, placing her hands on her hips. The rest of the room smiled and laughed. Tom laid Quince down on the couch to suffer Emily's tortures, and went over to greet the rest of the family.
"Dad," said a laughing feminine voice. Tom walked over to her and gave her a huge hug. "I swear you look older everyday."
"Thanks a lot," Tom laughed. "Ah, Peter, you treating my Miral well?" Tom asked to the young man behind her.
"Yes, sir," Peter said, laughing.
"Good to hear. Otherwise I might let the whole Klingon wrath of this family attack you," Tom joked, making the family laughed. Tom went on to greet his other daughter, Taya, her husband John, and their two children, Mark, who was 7 and René, who was 13. The children ran off down the hallway, René carrying Quince on her side. The adults sat down in the living room as the light smell of roasting chicken and potatoes filled the air. There was a tense and awkward silence; everyone had the same thought on his or her mind. Where's TJ? It was as though they all knew what each other was thinking, but too afraid to pipe up the question just in case they weren't. They had been all smiles, for the children's sake, but now, it was serious.
"Where is he this time?" Miral asked her hands intertwined in fist propped up on her knees. Tom and B'Elanna took each other's hand and shared a glance. Tom sighed.
"We're not sure," he said, his voice not so cheery, and his expression very saddened. "The last time we saw TJ, he dropped off Quince and asked for some money. That was about 6, 7 months ago."
"You gave him more drug and gambling money?" Taya asked, fiery with rage.
"No, of course not," B'Elanna said, trying to hide her equal rage under the motherly exterior. "He said he was going to change this time. TJ swore he was going to go to rehab about those kinds of things, and start all over again."
"You're serious?" Miral asked, with scoff. "You think he needs money to go to rehab? TJ can get into any rehab for free, it's all charity funded. Why do you two have to be such damned fools?"
"Hey, watch your mouth young lady. That's no way to speak to either of us," Tom said, his face a serious grimace. Miral released hot hair through her nose as Peter wrapped his arm around her. "We're trying our best here. What if Emily need money, and swore she was going to use it for good? You wouldn't just refuse her and throw her out, would you?" Miral looked up at Peter. "I thought so."
"Any word from Quince's mother?" Taya asked, changing the subject.
"We've never even met her," B'Elanna sighed. "But we've tried finding and contacting her, but Starfleet has turned up nothing."
"The Doc ran several genetics tests on Quince, and narrowed the search down some, but not enough to get anywhere useful. He sent the case to Jupiter Station for further analysis and we're hoping for the best," Tom said, B'Elanna's grip tightening in support. Just then the door opened to show a bright light with a white snow background. The family glanced up from the living room with shivers from the incoming breeze. The entering figure stumbled around, and dropped the paper sack in his hands. It shattered on the floor beneath him, just as he collapsed over it. Everyone leapt up and ran over to the scene. His body was cold. "Throw me that tricorder," Tom yelled at John who had stayed back. John turned around and grabbed the small parcel, gently tossing it over to Tom. Tom opened it and frantically scanned the young man. "He's still alive, but we need to get him to Starfleet Medical. Now."
~*~*~*~
"Thank you so much for watching him," B'Elanna said in the doorway wearing a heavy coat as snow pelted down behind her.
"Anything for an old friend," Harry said with a smile, taking Quince from her.
"I'll call you when I can," B'Elanna said, walking off. Harry nodded and the door closed as he walked into the living room of his small apartment. The baby was screaming uncontrollably.
"You're definitely your grandmother's child," Harry mumbled, digging through the diaper bag for toys. Anything that would shush this ear- piercing child. "Please, just be quiet for just a second while Uncle Harry tries to find your bunny," Harry pleaded hopelessly. With a heavy sigh, Harry set the flailing child on the floor. Quince screamed at the top of his lungs, making Harry jump and fall over. Huge crocodile tears poured endlessly down the infant's cheeks. "This is going to be a very long night..."
~*~*~*~