AN: Here we are, another chapter here.

I've posted several (and there may be more), so please go back and make sure that you haven't missed any! Otherwise, you'll be missing chunks out of the progression.

Also, I'm posting a reminder that both couples will feature prominently in this story. We'll see both of them progress throughout, and we'll focus on both at different times, in different chapters, and even in the same chapters. It's necessary, though, to focus on one or the other at this time in the story as I'm moving both couples toward becoming actual functioning couples.

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

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As was reasonable, they would go in order of seriousness. Daryl's injuries amounted to some darkening bruises on his face and a damaged hand where he'd done his best to fight back against the Vulcan who he thought was going to take advantage of the half-Klingon that he was slowly coming to regard as a friend. What he'd apparently learned was that he was not prepared to fight a Vulcan in the state of pon farr, as Tuvok had called it, and that half-Klingon women were more than capable of taking care of themselves.

His injuries were minor, all things considered, and there was no hurry to have them treated. Vorik and B'Elanna had likely suffered much greater injuries. Therefore, as they neared sickbay, Carol and Daryl fell back a little to be the last ones to enter.

They hesitated, a moment, in the corridor before actually entering sickbay.

Carol's heart was beating fast and she was aware that her breathing was irregular. She felt warm. Hot. But not in an entirely unpleasant way. The way that Daryl smiled at her—the corner of his mouth crooking upward—only increased her feelings. She smiled in response, unable to stop herself.

"What?" She breathed out. Her brain screamed out a thousand different responses it wished he would say.

"What the hell are you wearing?" He asked, looking her up and down.

Carol felt a surge of embarrassment. She'd forgotten that she and Kathryn—in the whirlwind excitement of everything—hadn't taken the opportunity to change out of their spandex athletic-wear.

"Shut up, asshole," Carol said, still unable to stop smiling at him. His smile didn't break, either. The way he kept his eyes glued on hers, whether he meant to or not, only made her heart continue its wild dance in her chest. She felt a little light-headed, and she was almost considering asking the doctor to have a look at her to see if there was something going on that made her feel so unusually jittery today. "It's athletic clothing. Kathryn and I were playing a game on the holodecks. We didn't change because of the fight. I know I look ridiculous."

"I wouldn't say that," Daryl offered.

"What would you say?" Carol asked.

She was horrified when she heard herself say the words. They slipped out, though, before she could stop them. Daryl's face blanched. She could see that his breathing sped up. He held her eyes a moment longer with eyes that looked filled with something akin to fear. Then he quickly turned away.

"Better go in—remind 'em we're out here," he said, reaching a hand to grab for her arm and tug her, behind him, into sickbay.

Carol had challenged him—even without meaning to—and he'd made it clear, perhaps, that he didn't mean anything. He meant nothing more than what he'd already said.

She might have spent some time feeling sorry for herself, if she weren't immediately drawn into everything that was taking place in the crowded sickbay.

The doctor was treating Ensign Vorik, having clearly decided his injuries were more pressing than B'Elanna's. Tom was standing beside a bed where B'Elanna rested.

None of those things were remarkable in any way.

Carol and Daryl naturally moved toward the other part of sickbay where something was taking place that neither of them knew how to explain—at least not yet.

Kathryn and Chakotay stood side-by-side as they listened to Kes speak. Kes sat on one of the beds. She was normally a neat and well-put together little creature. Carol saw her every day since she'd been working in the mess hall. Kes, it seemed, was in a relationship with Neelix. They were, in Carol's opinion, very much an odd couple, but she didn't deny anyone love—and she felt like the two did, at the very least, truly care for one another. They seemed happy in one another's presence.

Carol found Kes to be friendly and quite bubbly. She was always happy, and it was absolutely contagious. With her pointed ears, she reminded Carol of a woodland fairy from the fairytales she'd read when she was younger.

At the moment, though, she looked a great deal different than she normally did. She was absolutely saturated with what Carol could only assume was sweat. She somewhat writhed on the bed even as she sat up to demand the attention of Kathryn and Chakotay. Her eyes looked different. She was clearly feverish or something of the like.

"Captain—the decision has to be made soon," Kes said. "By the time the elogium progresses to the next stage, I have to know what I'm doing or I'll miss the window."

Kathryn honestly looked a little heartbroken over the things Kes was saying. Carol leaned in to hear a little better. She became aware, as well, of Daryl's hand on her shoulder like he was holding her back from getting too close.

"I can't make that decision for you, Kes," Kathryn said. "It's beyond my power. Only you can decide what's best for you—but I give you full freedom to make the decision that you think is best. I will support you no matter what decision you make."

"I'm not asking you to make the decision for me, Captain Janeway," Kes said, some pleading to her voice. "I'm coming to you—like I would my mother. To help me make my own decision."

Chakotay stood just behind Kathryn. Just at her right shoulder. He almost stood at full attention. He watched everything, his eyes flicking from Kes to Kathryn and back again, but he didn't offer any opinion. He was simply offering his silent support. He was, clearly, a man who felt no threat in deferring entirely to Kathryn. Carol wondered if every aspect of their relationship was like that.

Kathryn had spoken about Carol and Daryl being lucky to have each other instead of—like so many on the ship—having left someone behind. Kathryn and Chakotay were clearly lucky to have both been onboard Voyager when the ship was tossed into the Delta Quadrant by whatever alien hand had been at work.

Kathryn reached out and took Kes's hand—a move that Carol wasn't sure she would do in the Ocampan's current condition, and especially given the fact that her hands looked remarkably like they were covered in some unidentifiable substance.

"Kes—I don't feel…qualified…to give you advice. I've never been a mother…"

"I have," Carol offered before she caught herself. Like the words in the corridor, it seemed like her words were as quick to get away from her as her thoughts had been all day. She didn't regret what she said, though, when Kes looked at her with some hope on her features.

"It's the elogium," Kes said. Carol had no idea what that meant, but she nodded her head as though she did. She tried to move forward, but the tightening of Daryl's fingers on her shoulders told her that he didn't think that was a good idea, and he was going to do his best to make sure she kept some distance from Kes and whatever her elogium may be. "Ocampans produce only one child in their lives. The elogium occurs when it's time for that to happen. I'm younger than most Ocampans when they make the decision and—even though we'd somewhat talked about it in idle conversation—Neelix and I weren't really prepared to make this decision now. He's not sure he's ready to be a father. But—if I don't do this now, I'll never be a mother. There are other ways I could conceive if Neelix isn't ready. I could be a mother on my own with the doctor's help. I just don't know—if I should do that. If I'll regret that or if Neelix will regret that. But—I also don't know if I'll regret missing my one opportunity at motherhood if I don't take it."

Carol's chest ached a little as she regarded the young woman who now looked at her like she truly held all the secrets to the universe—or all the universes, as the case may be. She was vaguely aware, too, that several other eyes were focused on her.

"I guess we're lucky, as a species. For us, having children is not over until it's over, if we're able to have them. You can have more than one chance. But—one chance or twenty, having children is difficult," Carol said. "And painful—and I don't mean in the physical sense, but I guess there's that…for our species. I don't know about…about yours. But it's also a beautiful thing. A wonderful thing. I wouldn't trade the time I had with—with any of my children—to get rid of the pain that losing them left me. Being a mother has been one of the things I've loved most in my life."

"So, you think I should do it?" Kes asked.

Carol smiled to herself.

"That's still a decision that I nobody can make for you. Not me or—Captain Janeway. Not even your mother, if she were here. Kes—it's a decision that…everyone has to make for themselves. But if you're going to become a parent? You can consider it to be just the first hard decision of a million that you'll have to make."

Kes thanked Carol, but Carol could tell it was something of a half-hearted thanks. Kes wanted someone to tell her what to do. She wanted someone to make the decision for her. Of course, wasn't that how they all felt when they had to make a hard decision? Maybe things weren't that different across species, after all.

When the doctor loudly indicated to Daryl that he could take his place on one of the beds—everyone else having finished up with whatever treatment they needed and having left the sickbay when Carol wasn't paying attention—Carol followed Daryl over to the bed.

Daryl hopped up, clearly a little more comfortable with sickbay than he had been when they'd first arrived on the ship, and the doctor looked at him a moment before stepping away to fumble with any number of tools and items he had.

Carol rested her hand in Daryl's.

Part of her told her not to do it. Part of her told her that he'd tried to make his feelings clear. Part of her told her that not saying anything to her was saying, very clearly, that he didn't want more with her than he had.

But the other part of her wanted to hold his hand. She took his hand before she even decided to really do so—but her thoughts and words were running away from her at every turn, so it seemed only fitting that an action or two might follow suit.

"Want me to hold your hand?" Carol asked.

"Shut up," Daryl said with a laugh. He didn't pull his hand away, though.

"That was—very brave what you did," Carol offered. "Standing up for B'Elanna."

"Asshole had no business comin' for her like that," Daryl said. "Especially not when she said she didn't want what he was tryin' to give—ya know?"

Carol smiled to herself.

"I know," she agreed, nodding her head. "Everyone should have the right to—to decide…who they want to mate with. And—when they want to mate with them."

Daryl's cheeks blushed. He cleared his throat and turned his face away from her, but he didn't withdraw his hand from hers.

"Alright, Mr. Dixon," the doctor said. "The regenerator won't hurt, so there's no need to pull away from me or threaten to fight me like you did the last time I saw you."

Carol laughed to herself. Daryl laughed a little, too.

"Sorry," he muttered.

"I'm growing quite accustomed to combative patients," the EMH said as a way of accepting Daryl's apology. He used the tool that he called a regenerator on Daryl's face and, slowly, Carol saw any sign of bruising disappear as surely as if he'd been using an eraser. He lifted Daryl's hand—the one that Carol wasn't holding—and used the regenerator to erase the evidence that Daryl had done his best to break Vorik's face for his decision to try to and convince B'Elanna to do something she had no intention of doing.

Then he scanned Daryl with the tool that Carol already knew was a magical little tool called a tricorder. It seemed able to diagnose everything.

"How's the patient?" Kathryn asked, walking up.

Carol jumped. She hadn't heard Kathryn and Chakotay coming over.

"Physical injuries are healed," the doctor said. "However—there is something here that I should point out to you, Captain. I noticed it as I scanned B'Elanna and Ensign Vorik. Also, I noticed the same thing, this morning, when I scanned Mr. Neelix during his visit to speak with Kes."

"What is it, Doctor?" Kathryn asked.

"Carol—may I?" The doctor asked, holding out the scanner in her direction. Carol nodded and he passed the tricorder scanner around the space surrounding her. He hummed to himself.

"What? What the hell is wrong?" Daryl asked sharply.

"I'm simply testing a hypothesis," the doctor said. "There's nothing to be concerned about—or combative about, Mr. Dixon." He looked at Kathryn. "May I—scan you, Captain? And you, Commander?"

"Certainly, Doctor," Kathryn said, answering for both of them.

The doctor scanned both of them before he hummed to himself again, slightly shook his head, and turned off his tricorder.

"What is it, Doctor?" Kathryn asked, brow furrowed.

"It may be nothing at all," the doctor admitted. "It's just that—no matter the species, and even in the absence of any complaints at all, even though I'm sure that some people may not be voicing every little symptom they're experiencing…"

"Doctor," Kathryn said, interrupting him, "if there's something we need to be concerned about…"

He responded to the redirection.

"Elevated heartrates, respiratory rates, blood pressure," the doctor named off. "Captain, in short, everyone I've scanned is showing signs of—sustained sexual arousal."

Carol felt struck. She felt a little embarrassed. Part of her felt even a little relieved and validated. But she also felt strangely aware that everyone around her was feeling something that none of them had revealed to each other because of the very delicate nature of those feelings.

"I see," Kathryn said, her face blank. "Any ideas as to the cause?"

"Beyond normal biological influences, I haven't any idea," the doctor offered.

"That could explain some of the indiscretion and difficulties that we've seen arising. Is there—a cure, Doctor?" Chakotay asked. Carol didn't miss that he was swallowing back amusement.

"Beyond the natural biological cure, Commander, I'm afraid I'm at a loss again," the doctor offered.

"I think, for the time being, and until we have some more—information—on this, it might be best to request that everyone return to quarters to keep their distance," Kathryn said. "We can operate with a smaller crew for the time being. And we'll get started putting our heads together to find some possible explanation."

Chakotay agreed with Kathryn's idea.

And Carol was glad that the doctor had tucked his tricorder away because her heart had chosen its own unique rhythm—which he surely would have detected—at the thought of being sent to quarters.