Earth, San Francisco, Residence of Lieutenant Harry Kim

"You've got that glow," B'Elanna said accusatorily. "I can see it through subspace."

Harry smiled, blushing slightly, and knowing that she was right. "I admit it. I can't stop thinking about her. I keep waiting for something bad to happen – for her to plot a terrorist attack or turn into a cow or something."

"Don't be so pessimistic," his friend encouraged. "You deserve a little happiness."

"Thanks, B'Elanna," he said sincerely. There was a knock on his door. "Hey, I've got to go. She's here."

"What's the plan for tonight?"

"None of your business," Harry answered cheekily. He deactivated the computer and ran to the front door.

Before he could open it all the way, Libby was pressed against him, kissing him, her hands moving wildly through his hair and across his back. Harry decided to savor the moment and not ask questions.

After a minute, she calmed. "I missed you," she said by way of explanation. She took his hand, and they retreated to the living room. "I couldn't concentrate on anything at work today. All I could think about was getting here and doing that to you."

Harry grinned and caressed her lips with his thumb. He moved in to kiss her again and enjoyed the way her lips tasted.

"It sounded like you were talking to someone before I got here," she said, looking around. "You don't have another woman hiding somewhere around here, do you?"

"Nah, just one on subspace," he teased. He made himself comfortable on the couch. "B'Elanna commed because Miral wanted to recite the Klingon alphabet to me. You remember Miral? You met her at Admiral Janeway's house at the first Voyager reunion."

"The cute little baby no one could pry out of your arms? How could I forget?" Libby fell onto the sofa beside him. "So B'Elanna is your other woman?" she asked with confusion.

"No," he chided, "Miral is."

Libby considered this for a moment and then shrugged. "Pretty stiff competition, but I think I can beat her."

Harry grinned. "How exactly are you going to do that?"

"I have the advantage of proximity," she replied, leaning toward him. Another passionate kiss followed. "I hope you didn't plan for us to leave the house tonight."

"Nope."

"Good."

Starbase 174, Torres-Paris Family Quarters

Tom lay beside B'Elanna, silent for a moment as he stroked her hair. "Are you sleepy?" he whispered, rubbing her hands and arms, anywhere he could reach, gently, slowly. For all that he knew everyone considered B'Elanna too tough for the "mushy stuff," Tom thought of her more like a cat: she liked affection – even craved it sometimes – but on her own terms. And if that meant late at night, in the privacy of their bedroom, it was just fine with him.

"Not yet."

"Can we talk about the Enterprise?"

B'Elanna rolled onto her stomach and propped her head up on one elbow. "What do you want to say?"

"You first."

"Okay, well, if I get the assignment, I really want to take it. And I want Miral with me." She paused. "I want you with me, too, but I don't want you to give up your career, especially after you worked so hard to stay in Starfleet." Another pause. "What do you want?"

"Okay," he said, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, "I want you to accept the post, because I'm proud of you and I know you'd be good at it and I know you want it. But I don't want to be on separate assignments. So that would mean going with you. But I also don't want to resign my commission."

B'Elanna nodded. "What do you think about requesting a transfer?"

"It sounds boring," he admitted. "Flying a starship through uncharted space is every pilot's dream, but I've had a lot of years to do that. How could anything be exciting after Voyager? What I do here, testing new ships, it's exciting and fresh." He sighed. "Won't you miss design work? Don't you think it's an honor to be the head of the design lab here?"

"It's not as though there are very many people who could be in charge of it," she reminded him. "Our mission is to integrate Delta Quadrant technology into Starfleet systems. Who else could they make the head of that project? Harry? Seven before she died?"

Tom watched his wife's face for a moment and began to realize that she did not think the same way about their jobs at the starbase. For him it was a dream come true. B'Elanna designed and built the ships, and he got to test them. Then home every night in time for dinner and cartoons with his daughter. It was a lot more stable than Voyager, it was a lot more fun than Harry's job, and it came with a commanding officer who gave them a wide berth.

"I miss having an engine that I know inside and out, that I'm responsible for," B'Elanna continued.

Tom nodded, having just understood that very point. His domestic bliss had left her feeling unfulfilled, it seemed. But, of course, it wasn't about either them of getting their own way at the expense of the other. Those days were gone. "It's not just about what we want anymore, is it?"

"No," she said with equal thoughtfulness. "I suppose staying here is better for her. We're both here, and neither of us is doing anything too dangerous."

"As long as you do your job correctly," Tom teased.

"Be serious."

"Seriously? I can't imagine what we were thinking when we decided to have a baby on Voyager."

"Voyager was our home," B'Elanna reminded him with a hint of nostalgia in her voice. "We didn't know we were going to get back the day she was born. If we'd been trapped in the Delta Quadrant forever, what would we have done? Never had a family?"

Tom shook his head. "But we were constantly under attack, and you were holding the ship together with fritzy gel packs and some bubble gum."

"We did pretty well with fritzy gel packs and bubble gum," B'Elanna said, the corner of her mouth turning up in a smile.

"You did pretty well," he corrected, "because you're the best…which is why you should be on the Enterprise."

B'Elanna made a slight snorting sound as she laid her head down on his chest. "We've been over this, Tom. The Enterprise doesn't need someone who can handle temperamental equipment and think creatively about how to avoid maintenance overhauls. The Enterprise needs a decorated career officer who can keep everything spic and span while biding her time until promotion to captain."

Tom raised his eyebrows until he thought they were going to meld into hairline, and that distance, he remembered sorely, had grown considerably farther since Miral's birth. Instinctively he brought his left hand to the top of his head. More skin showing up there than he'd like, but still plenty of hair. For now. "It is a prestige assignment," he conceded, "but not necessarily a boring one. I'm sure you'd have plenty of assistants to help you if you want to continue your propulsions research. Anyway, what are you going to do? Turn it down if you get it? You'd never be given a promotion again."

"Turning it down would definitely be the end of my career," she agreed, but added sharply, "if I got it. That's not likely."

"You don't know that," he reminded her softly.

"What if the Enterprise turns out to be as dangerous as Voyager?"

"It's a family ship. Plenty of children on board whose parents seem to think they're okay there."

"Mmm," was B'Elanna's only response. "I hate the idea of taking you away from a job you love. What do you think would happen if we were in different sectors?"

"I think I'd miss you and spend all my free time sending you communiqués."

"You'd have a new holodeck program before the Enterprise left spacedock!"

"But you'd be the girl in it."

"I'm not sure I like the idea of you spending quality time with holo-B'Elanna."

"To be honest, neither am I." He studied her face with mock seriousness. "I'm not sure I could program the nuances of the character quite right."

"And Miral?" she reiterated. "There's still that question."

"Not to mention the next one."

"Next one?" She shook her head, clearly not ready to start that discussion again. "It hasn't happened yet."

"Exactly. How's it going to if we're apart?" he asked.

"Tom, please don't tell me you're trying to convince me to turn down the Enterprise so we can have a baby."

"No," he assured her. "I'm trying to remind myself why I should go with you."

B'Elanna looked deep into his eyes for a silent minute. Then she straddled him, bracing herself by her hands on the bed on either side of him. She leaned down and kissed him slowly, deliberately. Kahless, I love this man.

Dokkara Prime, Archaeological Institute, Office of Professor Chakotay

Chakotay rubbed his eyes slightly and threw the padd he was reading onto his desk. After four straight hours of reading student papers (poorly written at that), he decided he needed a break. He activated his computer and went through a week's worth of messages he'd received and never read.

He was halfway through a message from Ayala, skimming more than reading, when a name caught his eye and forced him to pay more attention. Janeway. What's Ayala doing talking to her? Chakotay reread the paragraph. Not talking to Janeway, it seemed. Janeway to Harry, Harry to Ayala, and now Ayala to him. It was an inefficient way of hearing about his old captain, but it would have to suffice. If she wanted a less circuitous route of communication, she would have contacted him directly.

They hadn't spoken directly since the Voyager debriefings. They had mutual friends who, sometimes at their request and sometimes annoyingly without it, filled them in on each other's lives. He knew she was still at Starfleet Command and that she'd reclaimed her family home in Indiana. And now, if Ayala was a reliable resource, he knew she was lonely enough to ask Harry to accompany her to a reception.

It was strange to think that not too long ago they'd been each other's best friends. They'd eaten dinner together once a week, lunch together more often than that, spent hours sitting side by side on the bridge of Voyager, trading confidences just slightly out of earshot of the rest of the crew. He had devoted his life to working at her side.

And it all changed when he had decided to stick within transporter range of someone else. Someone who had ultimately broken his heart. He felt hurt and stupid to think about how he'd destroyed his relationship with Kathryn Janeway, and he felt terribly guilty to have caused a rift between her and Seven. At least the two of them been able to patch things up before Seven's death.

Seven's death. It still wasn't fully real to Chakotay. He only wished he and Seven had been able to patch things up before she died. But they hadn't, and here he was – far from the sacred places of his grandfathers, with only the proximity of B'Elanna Torres and Tom Paris to offer him comfort.

USS Voyager, Main Engineering, 2378

"Chakotay, what the hell is going on between you two?"

"Is that any of your business?"

"Yeah, it is," B'Elanna replied. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against a console, staring him down with confidence.

"I'm not sure I like your tone," he said, trying to occupy himself with the calculations displayed in front of him.

But B'Elanna wouldn't relent. "Seven?" she hissed, leaning close to him. "You're having an affair with Seven?"

He turned to look at her pointedly. "You're having Tom Paris's baby?" he shot back. He regretted using his future niece as a pawn like that, but he knew it would shut her up.

As predicted, B'Elanna's hand went instinctively to her bulging belly. "That's not the same thing," she bristled.

"Of course it's not," he acknowledged. "If you want to have a real conversation about this, as friends, we can talk privately when we're off-duty." Main engineering in the middle of alpha shift was not the place for the conversation.

"Look, Chakotay," she began in a much friendlier tone, "you can get involved with anyone you want –"

"You're damn right I can," Chakotay interrupted. "I don't need your permission."

"I know," she agreed, looking slightly humbled. She smoothed her hair off her face the way she always did when she felt awkward. "I just meant that I'm hurt you didn't say anything before."

"Because I knew you'd react like this."

B'Elanna sighed. "Seven and I aren't exactly mortal enemies anymore. Actually, I've come to respect her."

"Good. She respects you, too."

B'Elanna opened her mouth to voice her surprise, but Nicoletti called across engineering for her. She nodded, signifying that she would be there shortly. "Why don't you come over for dinner tonight?" she suggested. "We can talk more then."

Dinner in her quarters meant dinner with Tom, and while he certainly didn't mean to insult her choice of spouse earlier (after all, he had grown to respect and even like Tom over the years), he wasn't certain he wanted him to know the intimate details of his current romance with Seven of Nine.

B'Elanna must have sensed his apprehension. "I can send Tom the holodeck with Harry."

The offer alone alleviated his concerns. "No, no, dinner with both of you tonight sounds nice."

Little did Chakotay know that accepting the invitation would set the tone for the next twenty years of his life, that B'Elanna – and Tom – would be there when he decided to move to Dokkara Prime when his relationship with Seven fell apart, when a new one began, when he moved to Earth, and when he finally got married.

"B'Elanna? Can we keep this to ourselves for now?"

"On a ship this small?" she said as she started to move away.

"There's one person in particular who doesn't need to find out through the rumor mill," he said with a slight raise of his eyebrows.

She got the message. She nodded her understanding before disappearing behind the warp core.

Starbase 174, Flight Simulation Center

Bursting with news, B'Elanna had rounded up Miral from school precisely two minutes after her shift ended. They stood in the flight sim lab, waiting for Tom's shift to end and watching the full-size runabout connected to the computer as Tom programmed a series of commands into the helm controls.

"That's it," the officer on duty reported to her. He punched a few commands onto the console in front of him, checking the simulated flight of the runabout. "He's finished."

B'Elanna nodded, and a moment later Tom emerged. As soon as he saw them, his face broke into a grin. "Hi, ladies," he called happily as he strode over to them. Miral reached out, and he pulled her from B'Elanna's hip to his own. He kissed her on the cheek. "What's this all about?"

They started back toward their quarters as B'Elanna explained, "Beoro decided to pay us an announced visit today."

Tom winced slightly. "I hope Harding wasn't on duty."

"She wasn't," B'Elanna said with a naughty grin.

"What did he want?"

"Oh," she said, trying to sound as casual as possible, "he just wanted to know if I needed any additional storage containers for my personal belongings." Tom turned to her with a quizzical expression on his face. "For the move."

"The move?" he repeated. Then it clicked. "You got the Enterprise." She nodded. "B'Elanna…"

His eyes were wide with excitement for her, and B'Elanna smiled, happy to have him on her side. "Apparently, Captain Klees enjoyed talking with me, and he was impressed with my ideas on fuel conservation. He said he wanted to work with a real engineer. He even made a joke that if we clash personalities, at least I'll be twenty decks away."

"I can't believe it," Tom said as they rounded the corner toward their quarters. "I'm so proud of you."

"Oh, there's more," she assured him. She stopped right at their door and waited. Miral was too short to enter a code to open the door, but B'Elanna had programmed their quarters with voice authorization for her. They knew she liked being the one to open the doors, so they tried to always let her do it.

"Computer, open door, authorization Miral Paris," the child commanded. The doors slid open, and they stepped inside.

"Apparently," B'Elanna continued, "in addition to the letter from Beoro, Captain Klees got two recommendations – one from Janeway –"

"Of course," Tom interrupted.

"And one from Admiral Paris."

"Paris?" Tom repeated, putting Miral down. "My father?"

B'Elanna nodded. "If that isn't some serious nepotism…"

Tom shook his head. "No way. Not from my dad. He wouldn't write either of us a recommendation unless he really meant it. He cares too much about Starfleet to do that." He thought for a moment. "Klees must have known that, too, or he wouldn't have really considered it a boon to your candidacy."

"Well, what I want to know is, who told him? And why didn't he talk to us before recommending me?"

"The admiral probably told him," Tom suggested.

B'Elanna was shaking her head in slight disbelief. "I can't believe Klees chose me."

Tom slid an arm around her waist. "He made the right choice." He put a hand along her jaw, his thumb caressing her cheek, and pulled her in for a kiss. "Congratulations. When do you ship out, chief?"

"That's part of the problem," she said earnestly. "The Enterprise is scheduled to be here in two weeks. We're supposed to perform maintenance on the deuterium injectors. Then, I guess, I board." She looked over at Miral, who was looking at a picture book on a data padd. "We'd better start making plans."