AN: Here we are, another little piece to this one.
I'm so glad there are some of you who are excited about the upcoming adventures of our family. I'm so excited to share them with you!
I hope you enjoy! Please don't forget to let me know what you think!
111
There was something almost intoxicating about the start of a mission. Raffi had been on more missions than she cared to count in her life, and every one had her feeling almost like a child as she packed her chosen personal items, reviewed the information sent to her about the mission, and said goodbye to everyone she'd be leaving behind for the duration of the mission.
The biggest difference between this mission, maybe, and all her others, was that she wouldn't be leaving anyone behind and, honestly, that may have actually made her even more excited for what was to come than she would normally expect to be.
Every mission began and progressed at least a little differently. Those handling each mission had a certain amount of flexibility in how they handled things. They could decide how formal or informal the mission would be. They could decide if there would be a party or gathering beforehand, or if there would be a welcome gathering of sorts after the ship departed. They could decide the tone of the mission entirely.
Admiral Janeway and the current Vice Admiral Picard, alone with Captain Chakotay, had made the decisions as to how this mission would be handled. It was a diplomatic mission. They wanted a relaxed air and a family-friendly environment. As a result, there had been no pre-party with drinking and black tie attire. Instead, they wanted a relaxed boarding of the ship, followed by intake medical examinations which were already scheduled in slots, the picking-up and discussing of duty rosters and, finally, a welcome party where they would greet everyone they hadn't already seen and have the opportunity to enjoy a meal, some drinks, or both.
"We have to be first on the medical roster," Raffi said, walking along beside Seven. She was almost having to trot to keep up with Seven, but she didn't care enough to ask her to slow down or tease her for the fast pace she seemed to have randomly chosen. Behind them, Elnor walked a little slower than the two of them, keeping just close enough not to lose them should they enter a decently thick cloud of people. "We're pretty early. Most people won't even be aboard the ship at this time."
"I would imagine they had several reasons for keeping our examinations private," Seven said. "Personally, I would prefer to be examined prior to the arrival of most of those accompanying us on the mission."
"I'm not opposed to it, either," Raffi said. "I'm just saying we have to be first. That's why we were asked to board early."
As they moved toward the ship's hangar, Raffi and Seven both noticed Picard and Janeway at almost the same moment. Janeway waved them over with a friendly wave, and Raffi was honestly unsure whether or not she should stand at attention as they approached.
Janeway waved that act of decorum away, if Raffi had had any thought of coming to attention, by reaching out in a familiar hug as Raffi reached her, a half a step ahead of Seven. She sideways hugged Raffi—avoiding the duffel she was carrying—and then hugged Seven fully before holding her at arms' length.
"You both look well today," Janeway said. "Very well," she added, with a touch more affection than her earlier words had carried.
Raffi felt her face grow warm, and she felt a smile already tugging at her features. She and Seven had already made the decision that they wouldn't wait. There were precautions—and perhaps even superstitions—surrounding pregnancy and the discussion of it that had stood the test of time over centuries. It was better, of course, to wait to announce one's pregnancy until the risk of complications dropped, but the truth was that not everyone had that luxury. The night before, while packing their personal belongings—the things they wouldn't or couldn't replicate on the ship—they'd discussed everyone who would have to know about Seven's pregnancy on a mission like this. Everyone in sickbay would need to know. Janeway, Picard, Captain Chakotay, and whoever was selected to be the First Officer would need to know. Duty rosters, away missions, and other assignments would be made with Seven's condition in mind and, if they weren't open about that condition, could lead to discontent with other shipmates who didn't understand why she might be passed over for certain undesirable jobs that could endanger the baby she carried. B'Elanna Torres-Paris already knew and, likely, she'd eventually tell Tom Paris—if she hadn't already—and Seven had assured Raffi that Harry Kim would know almost as soon as Tom did.
There was no need trying to keep this a secret when the knowledge would spread quicker than the Bolian flu.
The thought of telling everyone, though, and of having this out in the open—the absolute joy that they both felt over their growing family—practically made Raffi feel giddy. It made her feel like her pulse was irregular, in an oddly pleasant way, but certainly in a way that she thought she might have to explain, happily, at her intake physical.
Raffi wanted to shout to everyone—she wanted to borrow ship-wide comms to make sure that even the people in lower decks, with whom she would likely have very little contact, would know what she had to say—that she and Seven were deliriously happy. They were happy with each other. They were happy with their little Musiker Collective. They were happy with their little one, miniscule and unimportant as it might be to others, and that happiness felt intoxicating and wonderful.
Raffi didn't yell her excitement out to everyone milling around the hanger and loading deck, though. She kept it inside, nearly feeling like she might burst.
"You do look better than the last time I saw you," Picard offered, speaking directly to Raffi. He hadn't seen Seven since their party, and it seemed pretty obvious that Janeway hadn't disclosed their secret.
"A few nights of really good sleep, JL," Raffi said. She looked at Seven. Shit—Seven was smiling at her—not broadly, but just enough. She was smiling at her with her eyes more than anything. She was nudging her, and Raffi knew why. Raffi tried to communicate to Seven that she ought to say something—she ought to be the one to tell Picard. Seven simply raised her eyebrows in response and gestured with her head. Before Raffi could speak, Picard turned his attention to Elnor who stood just behind Seven and to her right—looking around and patiently waiting to board the ship and begin this adventure.
"Elnor—I see you've come prepared for the journey," Picard teased, noting Elnor's two duffels. Elnor smiled, and his gaze flicked to Seven and then to Raffi, but he offered no response.
Raffi raised her eyebrows at Seven. She nodded at her, trying to nudge her into saying something, but Seven simply repeated the gesture and then laughed quietly to herself. Raffi accepted the message she was clearly being sent.
Raffi was almost embarrassed to acknowledge the fact that she felt like a little girl getting ready to share a secret. Her stomach was full of butterflies, and she couldn't control them even if she wanted. For a brief second, she wondered if Seven felt the tiny nanoprobes swarming inside her body like millions of anxious butterflies.
"Elnor decided to carry Seven's bag," Raffi said. She quit trying to hide her smile, and Picard smiled back at her—the natural response when one human smiles, sincerely, at another. Despite the "replacements" he may have undergone, he was still human enough that it could be hard to remember that there was something synthetic there. "He thought it was the least he could do since Seven was already carrying the newest member of the Musiker family onto the ship." Immediately, Raffi felt her face grow warm, and she pressed her fingers to her temples. "That came out so much worse than I imagined it would."
Everyone around her laughed—everyone, including Elnor and Seven—and the butterflies took flight again in her gut.
"Does this mean…Seven?" Picard asked. He hadn't actually enunciated a single complete question, but it was sufficient. Everyone understood what he was asking.
Seven smiled. Her cheeks colored. She nodded her head and reached a hand out to search out Raffi's hand. Immediately, Raffi felt the cool touch of metal as she took Seven's left hand—offered without hesitation, this time, or the attempt to shuffle their positions around. The small gesture only sent the butterflies into a bit more of a frenzy. Raffi gladly slid her hand into Seven's grasp.
"I am—pregnant," Seven said.
"Raffi! You didn't tell me!" Picard said. His slight tone of scolding was clearly only meant to tease.
"I told you we were thinking about expanding the family," Raffi said.
"But so soon? And I suppose I only assumed—though it's wrong to assume…"
Raffi felt what he'd assumed and, without a doubt, so did everyone else. Seven squeezed Raffi's hand—a little harder, possibly, than she meant to squeeze because her left hand, even though it wasn't her dominant hand, reserved the grip-strength of Borg enhancements. Seven must have felt Picard's assumption, too, though she didn't look wounded by it. With a quick squeeze of melancholy, Raffi realized that, as this came to light and they shared their joy, there would probably be a lot that they would have to face—questions and criticisms. She squeezed Seven's hand back—a silent promise that she'd be there for everything.
"Though biological gestation is not the common choice for Borg procreation, I have enough of my human physiology intact to procreate in a normal, biological manner," Seven said. "We are participating in a research project and, though we have lost one of our embryos through what they tell me is no fault of my own, our second embryo is fully attached and thriving."
"You are not required to share your medical history with me beyond the information we'll receive for the mission," Picard said. "However, since you've chosen to do so, please accept my sincerest apologies if I've caused any offense. I assure you that it was not my intention, but even the best intentions are sometimes harmful. Congratulations—my dear, Seven, and Raffi—on your newest family member."
Raffi's pulse kicked up to see the warmth with which Seven embraced Picard. There was no pretending there. She wasn't embarrassed, or hurt, or otherwise wounded. She didn't have to share her medical history, but maybe she simply found it easier—or more logical. It erased the need for further questions.
Raffi accepted Picard's congratulations and hug, and she thanked him for both.
He smiled at Elnor.
"And, I supposed, congratulations are in order for you, as well. Being a brother is a most noble role of men of all species."
"Elnor was doing some family reading last night, and he saw that lifting heavy things might be dangerous for the baby at this point in development," Raffi offered.
Seven had wanted to argue that her Borg physiology probably more than made up for any human weakness when it came to lifting something as insignificant as her duffel of personal items, but Raffi had urged her not to argue. Elnor wanted to do things. He had a natural, ingrained—and even trained and cultivated—need to care for and protect. He loved them both, and the baby by extension, so he desperately wanted to protect them. He had, after all, shed very real tears over an embryo he'd never known.
Raffi had convinced Seven that letting Elnor care for her a bit would not harm her and, in fact, would be to the benefit of all of them. Elnor was proud of his role, after all, as duffel carrier and baby protector.
Picard seemed to recognize that without any need for urging. He reached and affectionately patted Elnor on the shoulder.
"A worthy cause," Picard said, "to protect and defend the smallest and weakest of our world so that they might grow to the greatness for which they are surely destined."
Elnor beamed and nodded his head.
"Thank you, Admiral," Elnor responded.
"Vice Admiral for the time being," Picard responded. "And Jean-Luc when we're off duty. I insist." He looked at Janeway. "How lucky we are to have the entire Musiker family on our mission."
"I knew if I had one, I had to have them all," she teased, winking her eye.
"It looks like we're the first to arrive," Raffi said.
"There are a few people already aboard," Janeway assured her.
"Our intake physicals have to be some of the first," Raffi said. She glanced down at her PADD, open to the screen of information, and read through their instructions for the day. When she looked up, she looked directly into Picard's face—and then she looked at Janeway's before turning to look behind her.
"Beverly…" Picard said, drawing the name out.
Raffi let her eyes fall on a face she hadn't seen in some time—and she'd only ever met Dr. Beverly Crusher in passing, honestly. Immediately, Raffi got a feeling in her stomach when she saw the look exchanged by Picard and Crusher, and she instinctively moved to make it easier for the two of them to reach each other—not taking her leave since they hadn't formally said any kind of goodbye.
"Jean-Luc," Crusher said, embracing Picard.
"It's been too long," Picard said. The way he said it, Raffi believed it—and she didn't believe it was the same kind of declaration that he might make to just anyone coming aboard the ship.
"We'll have some opportunity to remedy that," Crusher said. "We should take the opportunity to catch up."
"I forgot to mention, Jean-Luc, that Beverly contacted me last minute about signing on. We were thrilled to have her joining sickbay for the mission."
"There are some wonderful research opportunities," Crusher said, as though her presence there required any sort of explanation.
"We'll be lucky to have you aboard," Picard offered. Raffi caught Seven's eye. Seven was swallowing back a smile, but she wasn't entirely successful.
"I think we'll go ahead and board," Raffi said, almost hating to interrupt. "It's almost time for us to be in sickbay."
That drew the attention of Crusher, and she smiled warmly at all of them, her gaze drifting over Raffi, Seven, and Elnor in one clean sweep.
"You must be Seven of Nine," Crusher said, zeroing in on Seven. She offered a hand. "I've heard a great deal about you."
Raffi saw Seven's eyebrow raise, but she was clearly carefully weighing her responses. She was quiet for a moment, and then she took Crusher's hand and, embracing it in both of hers, shook it warmly. She gave Crusher the kind of smile that, honestly, Raffi couldn't imagine would ever fail to win anyone over.
"Please—I prefer Seven. Just Seven."
"Just Seven?" Raffi teased. Seven gave her that million-dollar smile, and Raffi felt her body flush with warmth.
"Seven Musiker," Seven corrected. "But—Seven, please. Not—Seven of Nine."
"Beverly," Crusher said. "Just Beverly. I think you're the first appointment. I was briefed on everything last night."
"Then—we'll need to go and take our things to our quarters," Seven said. "We'll see that Elnor is settled, and we'll report to sickbay immediately."
"Take your time," Beverly said quickly. "There's no rush. We don't start other appointments for a couple of hours, and we're still waiting on Lieutenant Commander Torres-Paris."
"B'Elanna is actually already aboard," Janeway said. "As is the entire Torres-Paris family."
"Well—it would seem that I'm the late one, then!" Beverly said. "My apologies! In that case, take your time. I'm going to go ahead and get set up!"
"We'll see you soon," Seven said, coming across as far more social than, honestly, she sometimes did. "Raf?"
"I'm ready," Raffi assured her. They said their goodbyes and Raffi slipped her arm through Seven's leading her toward the loading ramp so that they could locate their quarters, get Elnor settled, stow their gear, and find sickbay.