AN: This is just more ridiculous "family" fun for our little triad. It's just for fun and not meant to be taken too seriously.
I own nothing from Star Trek.
I hope you enjoy! If you do, please let me know.
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Laris slipped her finger into her mouth and sucked. She moaned in pleasure and, immediately, reminded herself to watch her volume when Number One woofed at her from his spot by her side, watching everything she did with more interest than usual—and he was usually very interested in everything she did these days.
"Outside with you," Laris said. "It's a beautiful day. Go on…smell what there is to smell." She abandoned her food long enough to walk to the patio door and open it. Number One followed her, but hesitated at the doorway. He was, she was sure, equally against leaving her—knowing that he couldn't reach her and protect her from every inconvenience as soon as the door was closed—and against leaving her sandwich, which he probably still hoped to get to taste in bits and pieces handed to him for being a "good boy."
Laris felt a rush of affection at the dog's concerned expression, and she patted his head with more vigor than was probably necessary. Thankfully for her, Number One never fussed if she was a bit more heavy-handed than she meant to be. She was the keeper of snacks, the giver of pats, and the carrier of the Château Picard little one. She was forgiven everything, at least by Number One.
"Now—don't look at me like that," Laris said. "Go outside. Do your business. Greet Beajox and tell him good morning while he sets up for work. I'll be out in a bit to eat on the patio. Go on. I'll keep the baby safe, in the meantime. Go be a dog."
She nudged him, and he went out the door, showing his reluctance with every heavy step. As soon as she closed the door behind him, he pressed his face against it, leaving nose prints that she'd have to wipe off later. When he was convinced that he couldn't appeal to her maternal side—which was currently practically drowning her—he turned and walked off, stopping once at the edge of the patio to look back over his shoulder and offer her one last chance to change her mind. His banishment to the yard, after all, meant that she was very much alone in the world—or, rather, alone in the kitchen—and he wanted to make sure that she had time to think about the repercussions of that.
Finally, he accepted his fate and trotted off to chase insects, greet early arriving workers, and mark his territory against any would-be invaders.
Laris washed her hands and returned to constructing the perfect sandwich—the sandwich of her dreams, literally, since she'd hardly managed to stay in bed as long as she had.
Of course, her husband and wife might tease her for practically running from their bed in pursuit of a sandwich, so she'd framed her escape differently. They were part of a Romulan trust bond—a three-way marriage. Their marriage worked wonderfully for them, but the things that kept it running so well were their household pact of truth they had with each other, and the fact that they'd agreed to talk about any jealousy that arose—because there were bound to be feelings that arose from time to time—so that nothing festered and threatened to poison their union. They all enjoyed being together, but they liked to have moments of privacy and intimacy, too, where only two of them were gathered together.
Laris had offered her partners the opportunity to spend the morning together and to appease any cravings they might have for each other, privately, to allow them to strengthen their bond. She didn't tell them that she was going to appease her own cravings. She'd reasoned, with herself, that it was only a very small detail that she'd withheld and, therefore, it didn't go against their rule of truth.
Of course, she was also former Tal Shiar, and she often thought things could be at least a little flexible.
She'd gone through her morning routine, done a few quick things around the house, giving her stomach time to settle with the help of a hypospray that her wife, Beverly, had prescribed to help her with the occasional little bouts of nausea that the baby she carried gave to her, and now she was constructing the perfect sandwich—the one she'd dreamed about the night before.
Jean-Luc was a fan of "the real thing" whenever possible, and Laris agreed that replicated food tasted different than that which was simply real. Her senses had sharpened an incredible amount since she'd become pregnant—relatively not that long ago—and her sense of taste could, in particular, pick out the differences between replicated and real food.
The strantlemeyrn spread was a type of meat spread produced on Rigelia VI. It was a common food there, apparently, but something of a delicacy elsewhere. One of their workers had it shipped to him from home, and he'd essentially traded some of it to Jean-Luc in exchange for a bottle of wine that he wanted for a date with a young lady that had caught his interest.
Beverly had subjected a little of the spread to a series of tests, but she'd determined that it was safe for Laris to consume it, and it would do no harm to the tiny life form that Laris harbored—the result of the genetic fusion of each member of their bond.
Laris was an omnivore, of course, but Romulans were well-known for being somewhat on the carnivorous end of the omnivore scale. Laris was no exception to that rule, and the strantlemeyrn spread had held her interest from the moment it had come into the house. As soon as she'd been cleared to taste it, she'd also discovered that it bore a striking flavor resemblance to a food that she'd loved as a child on Romulus—a food that was no longer produced, anymore, anywhere.
She spread the last of the spread on the bread. She was both saddened by the fact that the spread was gone, now, and excited by the prospect of consuming it very shortly. It was thick and delicious, and her mouth watered just to imagine sinking her teeth into the sandwich. Her stomach growled and ached a little, and she put her hand over her stomach.
"Faedhe arham haedl," Laris said, patting her stomach. Settle down, baby. "We're going to eat soon enough. Your ri'nanov…Mommy…is going to feed you exactly what you want."
Laris carefully constructed the rest of the sandwich, not rushing, despite the gnawing feeling of insistence that she contributed to the baby that, according to Beverly, wasn't much bigger than a small pea pod—something that had caused a great deal of teasing and affection among the members of the household. She sliced tomatoes and carefully arranged them with the other ingredients she pulled from the refrigerator. She arranged herbs and carefully chose seasonings.
Laris laughed to herself, not unaware that her careful construction of this most perfect food was, in many ways, bordering on something of a religious experience at the moment.
"Laris!"
At the sound of her name, somewhat barked and accentuated with a slight pop of incredulous laughter, Laris was abruptly snatched from her reverie. She dropped the knife that she was using to cut her sandwich into two perfect parts, and cursed when it clattered to the floor. She'd come close to cutting herself—something entirely outside of her normal, careful nature—and frustration bubbled up in her to go with the instinctive fear and rush of adrenaline that came from being caught without her defenses in place.
Laris was not under attack, and she wasn't being threatened—not actually. Her wife was teasingly threatening her, though. Laris could hear it in Beverly's tone of voice.
"What are you doing?" Beverly asked.
She and Jean-Luc were both dressed for lounging. They'd come for coffee, clearly, and perhaps some croissants and jam to start the day.
"Clearly, I was expecting Jean-Luc to last a little longer," Laris said.
Luckily, her partners knew she was teasing, and Jean-Luc's expression of offense was only put on after he caught himself laughing.
"I fail to understand why my stamina has been called into this," Jean-Luc said.
"What are you making?" Beverly asked. She started around the island, and Laris picked up the plate with the sandwich and started in the other direction. "Is that my strantlemeyrn spread?"
"We're married, Beloved," Laris declared, swallowing back her laughter as Beverly playfully pretended to pursue her. "That means that, technically, your strantlemeyrn spread is my strantlemeyrn spread."
"We agreed that we would divide it equally among all of us," Beverly said. "And, if I'm not mistaken, you have eaten far more than your share…Laris…" Beverly stopped and looked into the container that Laris left on the counter. "Laris! Did you really finish all of it?!"
Laris laughed and did her best to swallow down her laughter.
"You would leave it to go to waste," Laris said. "You can't preserve it forever."
"We've had it two days!" Beverly said. "Did you eat all of that in two days?"
Some of Beverly's shock was genuine, and Laris understood it. She hadn't meant to eat all of it, really, and she certainly hadn't meant to eat all of it so quickly. It was, however, delicious, and she nearly wept when she ate it. It reminded her of home, and her childhood, and her family. It reminded her of every past happiness in her life, and it blended, somehow, with the current happiness she felt.
She hadn't meant to eat all of it, but she couldn't help herself.
"I have eaten some of it…" Laris said. "But you've eaten some, and so has Jean-Luc."
"I tasted a small bit of it on crackers," Jean-Luc said.
"And I had barely enough to mention!" Beverly said. "By all rights, that sandwich belongs to us. I'm sorry, but you're going to have to hand it over. It's only right!"
"No!" Laris barked, still slightly choking on her laughter. Beverly had been slowly pursuing her, walking toward her like she meant to lunge for the plate that Laris held aloft so that it was out of her immediate reach. Laris had retreated until the wall, and finally the corner, meant that she had nowhere else to go. Beverly laughed, trying to maintain her false show of seriousness without much success. She closed in on Laris, and Laris held her hand up toward Beverly. "Back up! I mean it, Beverly—I don't want to hurt you." She put her hand out and touched Beverly's chest, gently pushing her backward.
"Are you threatening me?" Beverly asked, laughing.
"No—not threatening," Laris said. "Just…"
"Warning," Jean-Luc offered. He approached Laris from the other side, and she swung her hand quickly toward him and then back toward Beverly.
"This is unfair!" Laris barked. "This is unfair! This is…it's entrapment! I'm not responsible for my instincts!"
She couldn't help but laugh as they two very slowly closed in on her, clearly enjoying the teasing and the knowledge that, though she was teasing, she was also having a very low-key reaction to slowly becoming trapped in a corner.
She was aware it was nothing but play, and one thing that they often did—as a family, one might say—was work on overcoming some of the stronger and more dangerous aspects of her Romulan nature. So many years of practice, and she was still learning to control some of her instincts. She was still learning to work her way through them and to reason them out.
"OK! Truth!" She said, flattening her palm and holding it out in a sign of surrender. "I'm serious now. I'm not going to be able to hold it back. Back up…be careful of the haedl."
Beverly didn't back up, but she did mirror Laris, holding up her hands in surrender, too. She gave Laris a reassuring smile, and her tone was different.
"Easy," she said. "We're only playing, Laris. I promise. Nobody is going to hurt the baby. We would never hurt the baby."
"Or you, for that matter," Jean-Luc offered softly, from his spot. His own smile was comforting, and he showed his palms, too.
Neither backed away, but neither moved forward at all, either. Laris felt herself relaxing, and she felt her pulse and breathing returning to normal. She felt the building adrenaline seem to dissipate. From the patio, Number One was barking at them, nosing the door to try to get inside.
"Everything's fine!" Jean-Luc called to the dog, as though he was really capable of hearing and understating them. "We're only playing."
"And, perhaps, practicing a little with controlling instincts," Beverly said. She reached her hand out and touched Laris's face. Laris jerked back, instinctively, bumping her head hard against the wall. "Oh—see? Nobody meant for that to happen." Beverly said, reaching around and gently rubbing Laris' head to soothe any discomfort she might feel from the impact. "Shhh…maybe we got a little carried away?"
"No," Laris said quickly. "It's fine. It's just—fun—and sometimes we get carried away with that." She laughed quietly. "I know I often get carried away, and you two pay the price."
"For that, we have a medical-grade dermal regenerator," Jean-Luc said with a laugh.
Laris felt her body relax the rest of the way, and she let out the breath she drew in with a sigh. Her arm was giving off signals of fatigue, as she still held her sandwich aloft, keeping the plate as much out of reach as she could, though either of her partners was easily tall enough to pluck it from her hand, now that the wall kept her from being able to go anywhere else.
"Should we have breakfast?" Laris asked.
"I think that's an excellent idea," Beverly said. Her smile grew, and Laris sensed that she was about to tease her again. "I'm so glad you made us a sandwich…"
"I will make you a sandwich," Laris offered. "Turkey or…we even have some of that bunnicorn loaf that Deanna brought."
"We'll just split the strantlemeyrn spread," Beverly said.
Laris laughed.
"I'm willing to fight for it," she offered. "Just—think about that."
"Here," Jean-Luc said. "Pass it to me, and I'll keep it safe until you two have resolved this issue." He reached for the plate, fully capable of taking it out of Laris's hand, and she raised up on her tiptoes to gain whatever she might have left in ability to retain ownership of it.
"Please!" She said, dissolving into laughter. Beverly laughed in response, making a choking sound, and Jean-Luc laughed, too, as he took hold of the plate. "Please don't make me drop it!"
"I'll keep it safe," he said. "You can let go now, Laris."
Beverly tickled Laris's sides, and she finally let go of the plate. It passed into Jean-Luc's care, and Beverly pulled Laris into her for a hug. Laris found that she was tired, but she felt happy from the laughter and the teasing. She accepted the hug, squeezing Beverly.
"Now that she's disarmed," Jean-Luc said, "I believe we can make off with the sandwich, Beverly, if you'd like to make a run for it."
"Oh fine," Laris said, pulling away from Beverly. She took the kettle that she'd heated earlier and poured hot water—cooler now than she'd really desired, but it would do—over the tea she'd prepared in a mug earlier. She picked it up, intending to take it with her while it steeped. "Have my sandwich. Leave me and the haedl to find something unsatisfactory to get us through the day. Maybe we'll just…go hungry." She warmed her hands on either side of the mug. Beverly and Jean-Luc would describe the morning as mild, perhaps, but it was still a touch chilly to her. Every morning, really, was a touch chilly to her. "I have no planet…what kind of a loss is a sandwich, really? I might as well start teaching the haedl early that…it's natural to expect to lose things."
She couldn't hold her quiet laughter back when Beverly began clapping as though she intended to give standing ovation.
"Oh! Bravo!" Jean-Luc declared. "What a moving performance! If our little one is half as expressive, we're going to be in quite a bit of trouble in the years to come!"
"Give her the sandwich, Jean-Luc," Beverly said with a laugh, taking the plate from his hands and offering it to Laris. "And tell them we want more of the strantlemeyrn spread shipped directly to the Château. I'm not going to be responsible for the suffering of both my beloved wife and our precious little one." Beverly winked at Laris as Laris accepted the plate. "We'll do anything we can to ease their suffering."
"You're too good to me," Laris teased.
"We do try," Beverly said, no less dramatic than Laris had been earlier.
"If you feel like you can wait a moment longer," Jean-Luc said, "I could prepare something for Beverly and I, and we could all eat on the patio, together."
"You've made me wait this long," Laris said, "what's another few minutes…especially if it means breakfast in such good company." She smiled, her heart beating a little harder in her chest over just the simple thought of how happy her life and her lovers made her. If she'd tried to express to them how wonderful the morning had been, and how much hope it gave her for the rest of the day, they would have accused her of being dramatic again. Instead, she simply smiled and said, "it's a beautiful day."