March 2380
"Thirteen kilograms, is that enough?" Chakotay circled his CMO's desk and handed her another communication from Kathryn. "She's only gained thirteen kilograms since before she was pregnant."
"I'm sure it doesn't feel like only to only thirteen kilograms to Admiral Janeway." Doctor Sahn Preia took the scan from his hand and held it up, reading through with expert eyes. "The baby's perfectly healthy. Gaining weight very well, which is what you want at this point."
"Kathryn to gain weight?" He perched on the corner of her desk, leaning over her shoulder and peering down.
"The baby to gain weight. All the baby really does for the last month is gain weight. It goes from being a skinny little thing to a fat, round, rosy-cheeked little monster." Preia patted his cheek, grinning indulgently as his dimples appeared in response to her teasing. "I do hope little baby Janeway gets those."
"Are they dominant?"
Preia tilted her head, her short red hair tumbling to the side as she thought about it. "They're a dominant gene. I'd say baby Janeway has a good shot at getting one or two. My grandmother used to say the Prophets came down to pinch the cheeks of babies with dimples…of course, I was five and I was grateful no one wanted to pinch me."
Chuckling, Chakotay watched her call up Kathryn's latest scan on the monitor behind her desk. "And everything's all right?"
"Of course!" She smacked his shoulder and rolled her eyes. "Prophets help me. Yes, she's absolutely fine. The baby's absolutely fine, from head to toe. If you really want something to fuss about, Kathryn's ankles are a bit swollen, and she's been complaining of joint pain, which is entirely normal, but it gives you something to worry about."
"Her feet hurt." He studied his CMO, and then retreated to the replicator for a mug of tea.
"Feet, knees, ankles, hips, lower back-" Preia studied the data packet and tapped her computer. "Doctor Patel on Earth sent us a holorecording of the baby moving around, if you can tear yourself away from the bridge, Captain."
If he had any room left to smile, Chakotay's happiness pushed his mouth wider. "I don't know how they'll manage to survey the nebula without me."
"Exactly." Preia feigned a heavy sigh and headed for the door on her way to the holodeck. "It's going to be rough of out there. Someone might take a scan of the wrong cloud of gas or document some stray ions."
"Prophets forbid." Chakotay grabbed her around the shoulders and squeezed, grateful once again that she was so patient with him. "Can't have the wrong ions documented."
His CMO had been more than tolerant of his obsession with Kathryn's pregnancy. Since he'd first arrived in Preia's office, with a three-dimensional scan of his unborn child clutched in his hands and no idea how to read it, she'd been his guide to all things involving pregnancy and she was a good one. A Bajoran woman from a huge fishing family, she'd been around children and pregnant women most of her life, and understood how terrible it was for him to be so far away.
His sister, of course, had told him to blow off the mission, take whatever demotion he got and be with the woman he loved. Sekaya didn't understand that letting his career go for Kathryn was the last thing Kathryn would want him to do. Starfleet and Kathryn were a package deal, and loving the latter meant sharing her with her work.
Ensign Martin was in the holodeck, but he graciously agreed to accept Chakotay's hour tomorrow in payment. Preia set up the computer, and it obediently created a facsimile of Kathryn. Her simple blue smock covered her shoulders and breasts, but left her stomach bare. The computer was programmed with her personality as well, but having her speak just made him miss her that much more.
"When was the last one?"
"Sixteen days ago."
"She looks bigger." He took a step forward, reaching for her belly. Her skin was warm, just as Kathryn's would be, and her skin was pale, even slightly transparent. He could trace the blood vessels beneath with his fingers.
"She is bigger. About a kilogram since last time." Preia circled the false Kathryn, studying her posture. "She's keeping in shape."
"Kathryn spends a lot of time with Seven. Seven takes her on walks, and swimming and other approved activities."
"Efficient."
"Always." Beneath his hand, the holographic representation of their baby shifted, pressing part of his or her body into his hand. Kathryn had sheepishly admitted to playing his letters over and over to her belly, so the baby would know his voice. When they could, they just talked to each other, about nothing over subspace until she was asleep and he was summoned back to work.
It wasn't the same as holding her, or being able to kiss their child through her belly, but it was something. It was as close as he would get before Starfleet recalled him and he finally had the chance to hold them both.
"When is she due?"
Preia took his hand and guided it over so he could feel one of the baby's feet. Staring at the imprint through Kathryn's stretched skin, he barely heard the answer to his question.
"April, maybe March, but I'm thinking April. If she's stubborn, the Prophets say the baby will be too."
Chakotay smirked. "Might be May then."
"She'll be all right. First babies are always a bit of an adventure because we don't know how the pelvis will behave, but everything couldn't look better." Preia rested her hand on his back, smiling warmly. "Really."
"We've been trying to come up with names."
Preia moved his hand again. "That's baby's head, feel how hard it is? You asked your father, right?"
"I did." He stopped, marvelling at the way the baby's head fit so perfectly into the palm of his hand, like it belonged there. "My father said Kathryn and I could talk and talk, but when the time is right, the name will choose us. The spirits will tell us."
"On Bajor we ask the Prophets. Sounds similar."
Chakotay kept his eyes down, drinking in everything about Kathryn's stomach. "The Prophets choose Preia?"
"The Prophets let it be known to the Vedeks that Preia was to be my name. Really isn't bad. My youngest sister had to be Suitijal."
"That doesn't sound too bad."
"It means 'little biscuit'."
Lifting his head as he laughed, Chakotay winced. "I'll take it off the list."
"The name will come."
"Right."
"Trust your spirits, Chakotay. They're looking after you. All three of you."
"I'll need the historical records of the Grizzaleans, as well as their artistic and culinary tastes. If you could sort my correspondence and set out my notes for my morning meeting, that would be wonderful." Kathryn dropped her stack of PADDs into her case, and began the slow process of getting to her feet. Her belly grew heavier and more of a hazard each hour, and getting up now required she put her hands on the desk.
She could still do it, and coming into work took her mind off of all the things she missed about Chakotay.
Today however, her aide was looking at her with dismay.
"Ensign?"
"I can't, Admiral. With all due respect."
"You can't?"
"I can't. Admiral, I'm leaving tonight on a transport for Bajor. I haven't been home for the gratitude festival in the last three years, and I haven't been home to visit at all since I became your assistant. I don't mind working for you, and I understand that leave is difficult to come by, but I scheduled this trip around your parental leave, because I haven't seen my sisters in months and it's been longer than that for my parents, and my whole family gets together for the gratitude festival."
She took a breath, nearly in tears. "If you don't go on leave, I can't go, Admiral."
Staring at her in shock, Kathryn glanced at the stardate. She was meant to start her parental leave. Starfleet had given her the last few weeks of her pregnancy off, as well as two to six weeks to adjust to the baby. It was meant to start tomorrow she'd just…well, she didn't really want to go, did she? What was she going to do while she waited to have the baby? Sit around and watch old holovids?
Still, no matter how much she hated the idea of having nothing to do, she couldn't stand there and let the poor girl cry. Hjel was an excellent aide, she worked very hard and Kathryn certainly made her life more difficult.
"I had no idea it was so hard for you to go on leave, Ensign."
There were other aides, weren't there? Why would the scheduling of a vacation be so difficult?
Ensign Hjel sighed. "I can't entrust you to just anyone, Admiral. You're not the easiest to assist."
"Is that a polite way of saying I'm difficult?"
"Not difficult, just…a little intense sometimes. A replacement wouldn't get your coffee right, and you'd have to break her in now, when you're-"
"Not especially patient."
Kathryn settled in her chair, realising just how long it had been since she took any time off. Working kept her busy, and since Chakotay was light-years away, she wanted to be as busy as possible. If she hadn't have been working, no time would have passed at all. She'd still be nauseated and absolutely lost if she hadn't had work.
"I do have parental leave coming."
Ensign Hjel's smile was supernova bright. "Thank you, Admiral. Thank you."
"I'll need everything in order before you leave."
Hjel nodded, reordering the PADDs on Kathryn's desk. "It is, I just need you to stop working so it will stay that way, Admiral."
What choice did she have?
"How long is your leave dear?" Gretchen asked over the table.
She'd been working on some kind of quilting project all afternoon, and Kathryn had been watching out of curiosity and nostalgia. Her mother had quilted when she was a child too, often taking up the whole table while Kathryn was trying to do math and catch up her on astronomy.
"Six weeks." Kathryn sighed and folded her arms over her swollen belly. The baby was heavy again, and seemed to be bigger still than yesterday. Six weeks of parental leave seemed like just enough time to swell to bursting. Of course, she didn't have that much pregnancy left. At some point, she'd have to deal with the fact that the baby was preparing to live independently from her body.
Somehow, the trying, exhausting, bone-wrenching weight of the baby lodged just over her pelvis, was headed down and out. She'd read about it. Made it through most of a holographic simulation before she'd been too nauseated to continue. In theory, Kathryn understood childbirth. If it were Phoebe, or, much more likely in the bizarre event of Phoebe reproducing, Phoebe's partner, she'd have no trouble being supportive. When it was herself, no matter what her mother or her doctor told her, it remained an unknown. She suspected it would until it was happening.
Putting that from her mind, she sighed and sank back into her book. It was interesting. One of the sprawling Betazoid romance novels that had absolutely no intrigue, which made it rather relaxing to read. Everyone understood everyone else's feelings and the plot of the book was about how those feelings developed and changed and how everyone around the protagonist's feelings changed with hers. It was a good deal like listening to someone's therapy session and having that someone not be her was a nice change.
Counsellors were all very concerned about how she was handling her separation, and the impending doom of trying to balance her career and a child. People had had babies before, and kept their careers. It would work out. There was daycare in the building next to Starfleet headquarters for a reason. Her mother had taken the time to stay home with her and Phoebe when they were very small, but teaching was a far different career than Starfleet. Professors had leaves of absence and sabbaticals. If Kathryn had to spend all day with a baby, even her own darling little baby, she'd probably go insane.
And that was all right. It had to be okay because the baby was on its- his- her- way and she'd have to make her life balance. Somehow. Perhaps Chakotay would give up Voyager. He'd hinted, of course. He wanted to be where she and the baby were, and though she found that incredibly appealing, she hated grounding him.
Kathryn had hated grounding herself to become an admiral, but it was necessary. She'd worn herself too thin in the Delta Quadrant; she needed to be away, removed a step or two from the people she protected.
Perhaps she needed to put more thought into Admiral Nakamura's proposal and consider Deep Space 11. It was nearly the outer rim, but that meant it would be interesting. Plenty of interstellar traffic, and a choice of her own vessel. Chakotay might get a little bored being the captain on call, though, there was a rich amount of cultural diversity and plenty of alien races dying to share their stories.
Would he like that? Would he be fulfilled? The last thing she wanted to end up doing was stealing him away from a ship and crew that he loved to serve as her second on a fairly dull space station where she'd be so busy with bureaucracy that he'd wonder if he was a single parent.
Sighing, she realised she'd gone through about five pages of novel without keeping track, and all the Betazoid names were hard to remember. Far more Xs and Zs than she was accustomed to and she kept getting the protagonist and her lover confused with the antagonist and her three lovers, because they'd switched back and forth a few times.
Betazed would be a lovely choice for a honeymoon. If they went that route. They hadn't discussed it, but marriage was about as difficult to discuss over the comm as pregnancy. Pregnancy had holofeedback and medical charts, so it was definitely more interesting.
"Your sister is joining us for dinner." Her mother had that look which suggested that she'd tried to make the announcement four or five times and Kathryn hadn't been listening.
"Great." Kathryn cast her mother a sincere smile. When Phoebe stopped joking about how big Kathryn was getting or what it was like to have a comm screen for a partner, she was interesting company.
"She said she needed to change transports on Luna so she ended up at the Rio De Janeiro transport hub, not the Paris one because it's always so crowded."
"Okay." Kathryn tilted her head, surprised at her sister's logic. Usually logic and Phoebe were not words she put in the same thought, but Phoebe had made a wise choice. Switching transports wouldn't take long and Rio was a far more pleasant hub.
Switching.
Phoebe had come in on the sector one-one-nine express. She would have landed in Paris, but she'd switched to Rio.
She could have swapped transports all the way back on Starbase Three, or on Risa. There were at least five places Kathryn could think of.
No Starfleet vessel was headed directly from Earth to Voyager, but if she swapped…
She rolled out of her chair, something entirely without grace, but it got her on her feet.
"I need to make a call."
"Now?"
"I need to talk to Seven."
"Phoebe's going to be here in an hour for dinner."
Kathryn nodded, rubbing her hand along her belly as she thought. Seven would be able to plan a route and she wouldn't argue with the logic of what Kathryn was doing. Seven would understand without judging.
"Do you have enough for Seven as well?"
Her mother fixed her with a 'who do you think I am?' look. "Of course, dear. I'd never leave a guest wanting."
"Okay. I'm going to use the study."
"All right. Dinner's at nineteen hundred."
"Thanks."
Kathryn shut herself into the room that had been her father's study. Her mother's things covered the desk now, but there were still Starfleet computers. She needed those, even if they were a little old. She had a trip to plan, and some sort of reasoning to explain to her mother before she dragged Gretchen's first grandchild halfway across the galaxy.
She needed Chakotay, and he was out there. Maybe that would be reasoning enough. She didn't have anything else. Starships were safe, if for some reasons she went into labour before she made it to Voyager, she'd be on a starship. There weren't many places safer than that to have a baby. Besides, the baby was waiting for Chakotay. She wasn't willing to acknowledge that there was a version of events where he wouldn't be there.
So it wouldn't happen. Being pregnant wasn't her choice, being separate from Chakotay was not want she wanted, and if she could wrest one thing from the universe, it was going to be where she had this baby. The universe would have to adapt.
Once, while she and Tuvok had been eating on Voyager with Chakotay, Paris, Kim and Torres, the Vulcan had remarked later that he occasionally wondered how emotional species found the time to ingest food at all. They spent so much time talking, that they barely had time to chew. The admiral suffered from a similar problem. Her conversations were of great importance to her, and she ate slowly.
Seven was partially through her dinner: mashed potatoes were something she was particularly fond of and Mrs. Janeway's were excellent, when the admiral and her mother started talking.
The conversation remained civil only briefly, then spiralled into a fully fledged argument.
"You can't have a baby on a starship."
"Women have babies on starships all the time! Starfleet has some of the best qualified doctors in the quadrant, and what were you just telling me last week? Giving birth is nothing to be afraid of, Kathryn, you'll be fine, Kathryn-"
The admiral's sarcastic emphasis on her own name had a bite to it, and across the table, Phoebe winced on her mother's behalf. She passed Seven the basket full of rolls and urged, silently, that Seven take one. Seven obliged, watching as Phoebe used her own to collect gravy from the edge of her plate. Apparently, this was comfort food and Seven was to be comforted by the high fat content and the textures of the food.
She didn't care much for the meat. It was well cooked and would have been considered very good by most who liked it. Gravy was more acceptable, she understood it was a product of the meat, which was a replicated terrestrial quadruped herbivore, but she found meat took excessive chewing. Vulcan cuisine was more to her liking. It was simple, chosen logically for its nutritional value and very sparsely spiced. However, as Earth food went, Gretchen Janeway's was acceptable.
Phoebe seemed to agree, and her plate emptied quickly, as did Seven's. Phoebe gestured towards the kitchen, picking up her plate and mouthing "dessert". Seven picked up her own empty plate, dodging the ongoing argument that traipsing off across the galaxy was not what Starfleet intended by maternity leave. She understood part of Gretchen's logic and she had been making an attempt not to eavesdrop, however, short of deactivating her aural implants, there was not much she could do to avoid it.
In the kitchen, Phoebe took her plate and set it into the replicator to be cleaned. To Seven's surprise, while the food disappeared, the plate remained.
"Mom has real plates, made somewhere in Europe, not replicated, and you have to put them in the replicator one at a time, and then put them away." Phoebe tossed a glance towards the sink and frowned. "Or you wash them."
"Washing them may be more efficient."
"It's slightly less sticky," Phoebe agreed, putting her and Seven's clean plates away. "And mom says that putting them in the replicator strips her china, a few atoms at a time."
Seven raised an eyebrow. That was unlikely.
Phoebe grinned: her smile was playful, even quirked, and she resembled the admiral in her best mood.
"I know. Mom just…well, she likes her things traditional." She started looking around the kitchen, peeking into cabinets, before she retrieved two small plates and advanced on the oven and stove combination. On top of the cooking elements, sat a pie in a glass pie pan.
Phoebe took the pie from there and brought it to the counter, wincing a little as the voices in the kitchen rose enough to be heard through the wall. "Traditional has its perks, like pie. You do like pie?"
Seven nodded once. "I enjoy the dessert. I am not as fond of cheesecake, as it is too rich. Pie is less filling."
"This is a bit filling, but you'll like it. Mom's is the best." Phoebe eyed the replicator and grinned again. "Want ice cream on it?"
"Ice cream?"
"Vanilla is good, chocolate is better, strawberry if you're feeling particularly adventurous."
"I am not fond of things that are adventurous."
Phoebe raised her eyebrows and nodded. "Vanilla it is."
She retrieved ice cream from the replicator and handed Seven pie with ice cream and a fork; again it was a real plate. Something that had not been replicated. Which was odd. Her aunt had many things that had not been replicated and only because she lived on a planet was that possible. Seven was not sure how she felt about that. She had sparse possessions and she enjoyed the freedom that gave her. Things needed to be moved, they needed space to be in, she saw no real point to them. Others liked them, but others liked many things she did not.
Poking her pie with her fork, Seven took a bite, catching some pie and ice cream. The pie was warm and sweet, pecan, of course, and the ice cream melted against her tongue. It was delicious, sweet enough to make her wish for a drink, but absolutely delicious.
Phoebe shared her thought. "Coffee? Tea?"
"I prefer tea."
Ordering something from the replicator Seven didn't recognise, Phoebe set a pot cup of tea in front of them on the counter and took down two delicate china cups from the cupboard. More non-replicated china.
It was difficult to see how Admiral Janeway, who barely seemed to have enough belongings to fill an apartment, and her mother might be related. The admiral had told Seven that things meant stability for some people. She'd smiled faintly and mentioned that one day, she might like to have enough things to quietly fill a house. Seven had doubted it would ever occur at the time.
"The tea has to steep." Phoebe pointed at the pot. "It's better than just replicating it done already. It's Betazoid, I think you'll like it. It's a big pot, but we might be here awhile."
"Is there no other way out of the house?"
Waving her fork in agreement, Phoebe inclined her head at the back door. "But it's March and it's wretchedly cold. We could sneak around, but we'd only managed to get into the living room, and there's not tea there. Or breakfast, should we need it."
"Will they be arguing that long?"
"Dad and I didn't keep records." Phoebe takes another bite of her pie and contemplates the idea as raised voices still echo on the other side of the wall. "Mom and Kathryn are too much alike. Strong-willed, no sense of compromise, fierce tempers, but good hearts. I mean, once one of those two likes you, you're in. She'll like you until the end."
She scratched her fork along the plate. "It's the same argument you know. Kathryn wants to do something, marry some guy, take some mission, have her baby halfway back to the Delta Sector-"
"It is a quadrant of space."
"Oh, I know." Phoebe's eyes twinkled. "Kathryn hates it when I get it wrong, so, I make it a point to get it wrong."
"You annoy her on purpose?"
"Absolutely."
Phoebe decided the tea was down and began to pour it.
'No siblings?"
"I do not understand."
"You don't have any siblings."
"I do not. I believe I have observed the behaviour in Commander Paris and Lt. Commander Kim."
"You prove you can annoy them; it means they love you."
Seven sniffed the aromatic steam from her tea. She had not had it before, but it was reminiscent of something tropical. Hopefully it was not as sweet as the pie.
"Your mother must love the admiral very much."
"She does!" Phoebe waved her fork triumphantly again. "The problem is that mom thinks love is taking care of people, keeping them safe from themselves, stability and all that nonsense. Kathryn thinks love is wild and heedless, and turning up at three am to take me out for coffee because she's missed me. Not that I mind, and you know, I even understand how she feels. It's Chakotay's baby, and if he's-"
She paused, turning to Seven. "Where is he?"
"On Voyager, exploring the Yaris nebula. Which is in the Beta Quadrant."
"So far?"
"It is-" Seven stopped, humans did not appreciate exact distances. "Quite far."
"Will you get there before she goes into labour?"
Seven paused, fork halfway to her mouth. Admiral Janeway had not asked her to formally accompany her. It was possible, of course. Seven had only consultant faculty responsibilities, and she could easily continue to fulfil those from anywhere with a commlink. She was less than comfortable on a planet, and missed the freedom of space. She would not be against seeing more Starships and meeting more Starfleet officers. They were generally easier to converse with than the civilian population who saw Borg as tantamount to the Devil of old mythology.
Setting her fork down, bite uneaten, she studied Phoebe's face, looking for some clue into the admiral's plans. "You believe she will ask me to accompany her?"
"You're safe, responsible, organised. She'd ask me, but I'm only barely the first, definitely not the second, and only the third when it's really really important. Mom likes you."
"I am not well acquainted with your mother."
That was puzzling. Seven agreed that a companion might make the admiral's planned journey more pleasant, but it was not necessary, was it?
"Well you'll go?"
"I am not against such a journey."
"So, you'll go with, Kathryn will be safe, and then mom will get over it. Kathryn will stop feeling like she's under siege and stop yelling back. You'll pack and go on your great adventure."
"It is a twenty-six day trip, requiring we travel with seventeen different vessels."
Phoebe nearly choked on her tea. "Wow."
"The Yaris nebula is-"
"Far. Got it. Okay, she's crazy."
Seven took another bite of her pie, wanting to finish before the ice cream became liquid and swamped her plate. After she swallowed, she contemplated the admiral's state of mind.
"I believe she is simply determined to be with Captain Chakotay."
"Which is love."
"I believe so."
"Love is crazy, Seven. Love is the craziest thing out there." Phoebe paused, grinning mysteriously. "That's what makes it fun."
"So, got a name yet?" Tom leaned casually over out of the chair that had been Chakotay's for seven years. He was an excellent first officer, calm, capable, incredibly good at relating the crew, but he remained far too involved in Chakotay's life. He knew him too well, a lot like a brother or a version of Sekaya that came along on his starship to mess up his reports and nag him about his long distance relationship.
Chakotay envied him. Tom had his family around him. He'd been with B'Elanna for the duration of her pregnancy, even most of the delivery. Voyager's arrival on Earth would be well into May, past the last part of Kathryn's window by at least two weeks. His child would be held by others before him. He envied them too. Kathryn's mother, her sister and Seven of Nine were all around her. His baby would know their voices more than his.
He tried to be calm, to be patient and focus on the mission.
Except, the Yaris nebula was not interesting enough to be more than a constant source of paperwork, which he did, staring over his work at the scans of the baby. It didn't seem real. He'd seen the holograms, even 'felt' the baby, but still, the baby was on the other side of the galaxy. It felt as surreal as when Kathryn had confessed she was pregnant.
So he boxed, more than usual. He even ended up taking most of Doctor Sahn's holodeck time, which she was happy to surrender. She had a superstitious fear of holodecks, since the safeties seemed only to exist to fail at inopportune moments. He suspected that was exaggerated, but he didn't argue. Tom and B'Elanna gave up part of their holodeck time too. Miral was too young to really appreciate it, and they had more fun with her in the cargo bay than in the holodeck. She liked running around, so, in cargo bay one, along the walls, there was a makeshift track, lined with sturdy cargo containers. She couldn't go anywhere, but she could toddle off on the little legs that grew bigger every day, and eventually return to her parents.
Who were both on the ship.
The need to be with Kathryn dogged on him, taunting him. There was nothing he could do, short of renouncing his commission. Letting go of Voyager would take him off the rotation for command list, and he'd be stuck on some Starbase, assisting an admiral with even more paperwork and he'd lose B'Elanna, Tom, Harry and his family on Voyager.
Not that he could keep it forever. Kathryn was based on Earth, and the baby would most likely grow up there. He needed the good marks from finishing the Voyager mission to secure a position at the academy. Though the civilian sector would take him, that would be more anthropological history than first contact with alien species and ordinary university professors did not return to space when their children grew up.
So this was best for everyone.
Except that it had the kind of impatient waiting to it that drilled into the back of his skull. He reminded himself to pay attention to now and to let the future come as it would.
"She likes Evan."
"Evan's all right." Tom inclined his head up towards Harry. "Harry was telling me he likes Thomas."
Harry smirked. "I was actually. It's the kind of name that grows on you. Something that gets less abrasive the more times you say it."
Tom chuckled and winced appropriately. "What about Harry?"
"Perhaps, I'll put Harriet on the list for a girl."
"Thanks, Captain. Why not Thomasina too?"
"Almasina was a woman I knew in my village growing up. She might be amused by that."
"Any naming traditions you have to follow?"
Chakotay tilted his head, looking up towards Harry. "I'm supposed to let the baby's spirit guide tell mine what to chose."
"So the baby's spirit guide has been slacking off?" Tom handed across the PADD with the duty roster.
"Perhaps." He scanned over the duty roster, reading it with a minimum of attention. Maybe he should listen to B'Elanna and go hit something. Again.
Chakotay paused, struck by something in a middle paragraph. "Captain Proton will have the third watch?"
Tom winked. "Would you believe it? He took time from his busy schedule of stopping evil just to stop by and take the last watch on Voyager."
Though he chuckled with Tom and appreciated the attempt to make him laugh, thinking of his first officer's old holoprogramme only made him think of Kathryn, and how wonderful she'd looked in her costume as queen of the spider people. Did Arachnia have an heir to the throne? Would they play that game with their baby some day?
Playing with the baby was a softer, sweeter thought than missing Kathryn, so he set his mind to that and tried to work.
The first few times she brought Miral over to Chakotay's quarters, she felt like the captain- the admiral- was going to appear at any moment. When Janeway didn't appear, she relaxed into it, but she appreciated how strange it must have been for Chakotay to be where she had been, and never have her there.
Miral happily splashed in the bathtub, smashing a toy shuttle into a toy boat that had existed centuries before the shuttle, and then chasing off to the far corner after a floating duck and a dinosaur. She was easier to manage in the bathtub. She was less than amused by the sonic shower, and finding ways to hold her still short of letting her scream while the shower did its work, involved having her asleep or someone else to amuse her. The bathtub on the other hand, was a confined space, it had numerous floating toys and it was comfortable.
She could sit on the edge and watch her, which was a lot better than taking a baby fist to the face when Miral screamed her discontent with the shower.
"I wasn't aware ducks had a taste for space travel."
B'Elanna lifted a hand to wave and welcomed Chakotay into his own bathroom. Miral had the little blue duck on top of the shuttle, and they zoomed happily around, accompanied by sound effects.
"This one apparently does. It's going where no duck has gone before."
After its flight, the duck flew out of the tub and narrowly missed B'Elanna, landing at Chakotay's feet. Retrieving it and wiping it on a towel, he added it back into the bath.
"It certainly is."
Miral didn't acknowledge him. She didn't seem to care much who was around her, as long as at least one of the group she liked was. She was fond of Harry, Chakotay and Preia. The CMO was remarkably good with children, coming from a huge family must have made it easier to deal with kids. B'Elanna had absolutely no experience with kids, and she was making up the parent thing as she went.
Luckily Tom was too, and that made it a little more balanced. For all the screaming, pulling, punching and yelling that went with a Klingon toddler, Miral was pretty easy. She slept well, she listened some of the time and she was generally happy. Like now. She seemed entirely happy to be gnawing on the adventurous duck's head at the moment.
"Anything from the admiral?"
Chakotay took off his jacket and settled down on the floor, so he looked up at her, but was enough out of the way to stay mostly dry.
"She's on leave now."
"I bet that went over well."
"There were tears." Chakotay grinned a little, pushing aside the regret that was etched into his face. "Her aide apparently has not had leave in some time."
"That poor ensign." B'Elanna returned his smile, laughing a little. "I did think it had been her for a moment. Desperate not to leave work undone."
"I think she would have kept working until active labour if it were up to her."
Another bittersweet smile, and she ached for him. Not having Tom around for her entire pregnancy would have made the whole thing that much closer to claustrophobic, annoying and frustrating. Still, Chakotay was using the right terms for things, and he'd obviously done his homework. B'Elanna hadn't really known what active labour was until she was in it, ready to rip the Doctor's programme out of the computer with her bare hands, if necessary.
It was hard to picture the admiral in that place. Admiral Janeway had been hurt rarely, sick even less and her pain tolerance was enough that B'Elanna envied it, and she worked with broken ribs. She could handle labour, B'Elanna had no doubt of that, but if she wanted Chakotay, it would hurt not having him there almost as much as labour itself.
Hopefully it would be distracting enough. She'd stopped noticing everything after a while and sunk into some kind of place where it was just her body and the baby, and even the Doctor didn't register much. From what she'd heard from Seven of Nine, who was better at keeping anyone informed of how the admiral was doing than the admiral herself, Admiral Janeway was paying attention to what her midwife said, but in the distracted way she'd paid attention to repair schedules that frustrated her or listening to the Doctor when she had better things to do.
Seven was pleased with the way she handled herself, and content that the admiral was in good health, but mentally and emotionally, there was a distance between the admiral and her baby. It was particularly hard to have a child without knowing where the relationship that child was coming in to actually was, and she wasn't sure where Chakotay and the admiral were headed. Maybe they didn't know.
There was something there, something Chakotay had trouble explaining, even though he was usually seemed certain that he and the admiral would end up together, given the chance to actually have a relationship while in the same place and not under extreme circumstances. Maybe they didn't know how to be together. They hadn't had much luck with relationships, and a seven year stretch of unfulfilled yearning had to be hard to turn into a relationship.
Hell, B'Elanna didn't think she would have even had the patience for a few years of what Janeway and Chakotay had put themselves through.
"Want me to break the ship?"
Chakotay's pensive look faded away and he turned to her in confusion. "Pardon?"
"I could break something, force us back early. You could catch the first shuttle out of Proxima Station and-"
Patting her shoulder with a firm hand, he shook his head. "No, but thank you for offering."
"I could make it look really convincing."
Miral splashed over and offered a boat to Chakotay, babbling seriously as if she were part of the conversation. He took the boat and held it on the edge, in case she wanted it back.
"I'm sure you could."
"We only have one Doppler array in the sensors. If that were to suffer a mechanical failure-"
He shook his head, laughing as he threatened her with the boat. "If anything breaks, even if we hit a meteor shower, now I'm going to wonder."
It might have been better to be suspicious and have Janeway than to be here, without suspicion, and not. B'Elanna smiled back at him, noticing again how good he was with her daughter.
"It's just a thought."
"It's a nice thought."
She smirked. "I do have them occasionally, no matter what Tom says."
When he laughed and it crept into his eyes, she knew she was making progress.