In the Arms of Family
Story by Janet and Christina
Written by Janet, Christina, Cybermum, Diane, Julie,Mary, Penny, and Rocky
Compiled by Janet

Most of Voyager's crew had remained in Vic's, as Ro had requested. The pylon corridors weren't wide enough to provide a show. That didn't mean Ro didn't understand any disappointment the ones left behind might feel, for she couldn't suppress the flush of excitement she felt herself. It had been a long time since Ro had had any blood relatives; her adopted families on Enterprise and in the Maquis had ended badly. And while she was a little apprehensive about meeting with Admiral Paris again, she looked forward to seeing Tom's mother. Mrs. Paris had been so kind to her when Ro had been a lonely student at Starfleet Academy, Ro had always wanted to remain in touch with her. Circumstances had prevented that for many years, but now, perhaps, they could make a connection again.

When the iris to the airlock opened, Ro stepped aside to let the true family members surge forward to greet their loved ones. Alicia Paris was the first one in view. "Tom! Oh, Tom!" she called out and ran out to greet him. Ro felt a vicarious rush of joy as Tom wrapped his mother inside his arms. They hugged each other powerfully for a few seconds, but then Mrs. Paris took a step back and asked, "B'Elanna! And Miral! Oh, she's so precious. And Icheb? Oh, it's wonderful to finally meet you. I don't know what else to say! I'm so happy...!" Tom opened his arms to allow his wife, daughter, and soon-to-be brother inside the family circle. Ro shivered with delight at the sight of the expression on Tom's face. It was good to see her old friend so happy. He deserved it.

After several older adults who were apparently unconnected with Voyager came through the iris, a teenaged boy appeared. He was red-haired, looking so much like Lieutenant Carey that Ro wasn't surprised at all when he squealed "Dad!" in a little kid's voice and launched himself into Carey's arms. He was followed closely by another teenaged boy and a tearful woman, who also rushed into Carey's arms. Their muffled sobs of joy and the overwhelming emotions so vividly shown on their faces made Ro, a stranger, feel like a voyeur; she had to look away.

Several more people walked through, pointedly ignoring the two family groups as they walked around them. Because of the heads passing in her way, Ro couldn't catch any sight of Admiral Paris coming out of the doorway. Moving out of the way of the passers-by, she bumped against the man standing beside her. "I'm sorry...Ayala," she said, when she realized who it was. "I didn't mean to step on you."

He nodded wordlessly, distracted as he looked over her head. Ro turned back, wondering where his son was, when she saw a boy who had to be Luis.

Ayala shouted the boy's name at that very moment. Heedless of other passengers trying to pass through, Ayala covered the space between them in three long strides and held out his arms. The boy croaked out, "Papa!" and returned Ayala's crushing, almost desperate embrace.

Ro stared at them, unable to tear her eyes away. When she met him, she had thought Ayala a nice looking man who, from his coloring and the sharp crease across the bridge of his nose, could have a little Bajoran blood in him. This boy resembled his father, but Ro was stunned to see, from his nose, there was no doubt about this boy's heritage. Luis was part Bajoran.

So intent was Ro upon the reunion of the father and son, the sound of a voice calling her name didn't register at first. When it did, she turned to find Alicia Paris standing in front of her, holding out her arms for a hug. "Ro Laren! Oh, it's so good to see you! I can't tell you how worried I'd been about you until we heard you were here on DS9!"

Ro was tempted to say something sarcastic about Alicia being just about the only one who would have been unhappy if she were lost, as she was usually inclined to do, but she couldn't do it. Not this time. This was Tom's mother, the woman who had opened her home and her heart to her when she had no place to go during the holidays on Earth, who always had treated Ro like a third daughter. So Ro simply said, "It's good to see you, too, Mrs. Paris...I mean, Alicia."

The woman laughed. "You remembered! I wondered if you would."

"I remember, I just can't seem to get it out right, as often as you've corrected me. And Admiral Paris? Where is he?" Ro looked around for him, but she realized her mistake when she saw the stiff way Tom's mouth was pursed.

"Oh, Ro, I'm sorry. I thought you'd seen the ship's manifest. Admiral Paris couldn't get away. He was heartbroken, but you know how it is in Starfleet. Duty calls sometimes."

While Ro knew Mrs. Paris sincerely meant what she said, Ro couldn't meet her eyes, nor did she dare look at Tom. Instead, Ro and B'Elanna exchanged glances-more like stares-and Ro felt even more like a spiritual sister to Tom's half-Klingon wife than she had when they had first met. Was it really only four days ago now? It seemed as if they had always known each other-or maybe it was because, as strong women who had always felt like outsiders, they had led lives that were similar in many ways. Whatever it was, Ro resolved to talk to B'Elanna later on, to see if there was anything she wanted her to say or do for Tom...but Admiral Paris, staunch supporter of the Pathfinder Project, not able to find the time to greet the ship his only son was lost on for eight years? Whatever could she say about that to make Tom feel better?

"Should we go back to Vic's, to the party?" Carey called over. "Everyone should still be waiting for us. They all wanted to meet you."

Ro looked over at B'Elanna's assistant, grateful for his intervention at such a sticky moment, even though he probably had no idea about what had transpired.

As they filed down the corridor, Ro found herself falling into step behind Lieutenant Ayala and his son. The man walked with his arm on his son's shoulder. Neither one said a word, but Ro took this as a good sign-of hearts too full for words rather than because they had nothing to express.

As she walked, Ro found her concern for her friend Tom superseded by something else, a problem that had haunted her for the past four years. Resolving it might be just as difficult for some people to deal with as anything that had happened to the "Voyagers" so far, if her suspicions were correct. She'd just have to find out if she was right and then act on that knowledge in the best way for everyone concerned.

It was all up to Ro.

The Doctor stood just inside the entrance of Vic's and looked around. Vic himself had contacted him and asked him to stop by, and he couldn't imagine why. Despite his confusion, though, he was impressed by what he saw. This was a sophisticated program - easily the equal of Lieutenant Paris' best efforts. He flagged a passing waiter.

"I'm looking for someone named Vic,' he shouted, over the din.

The waiter turned and gestured toward a man in a tuxedo, who was chatting with patrons at a nearby table.

"Someone asking for you, boss,' the waiter said, as the man approached, smiling in recognition.

"Hey, you must be the Doc," the man said, extending his hand. "I'm Vic. It's great to meet you - one lightbulb to another."

The Doc bristled. "Speak for yourself," he said. "I am not your ordinary hologram."

"Hey, that's what they tell me, too," Vic said, grinning. He slapped the Doctor on his shoulder, and began steering him across the room. "Listen," he said. "I hope to get a chance to chat with you later, but right now I have customers to take care of. Besides, there's someone here to see you."

"To see me?" the Doctor said, perplexed.

"Yep," Vic confirmed. "A dame."

"A dame?" the Doctor repeated, starting to feel a little foolish.

"And she's a long, cool drink of water, too," Vic added, conspiratorially, "if you know what I mean."

The Doctor didn't, but he opted not to admit it. They reached a table in the corner, and a statuesque blond woman in an evening gown stood up and smiled broadly.

"Haley!" the Doctor exclaimed.

Haley hugged him, and the Doctor returned the embrace. Up until this moment, he hadn't realized how unsettled he'd felt since Voyager docked. His shipmates' reunions with loved ones just emphasized how uncertain his own future was, and he was starting to realize that here in the Alpha Quadrant, he might be looked at as more of an oddity than anything else. On Voyager, he'd been a team member - part of a family. Here...it was difficult to say. Yet here was someone who was genuinely happy to see him. It felt good.

"How did you get here?" he asked, as they pulled apart.

Vic interrupted. "You two enjoy yourselves. I'll check back with you later." With a wave, he was off.

The Doctor pulled a chair out for Haley, then sat down next to her.

"It was Lewis," Haley said, responding to his earlier question. "He keeps in pretty close contact with Reg, so he knew Voyager was on its way to Deep Space Nine. He really wanted to be here, himself, but he couldn't get away. So he sent my program to Dr. Bashir in his stead, to welcome you home."

"Excuse me." A waiter appeared out of nowhere, and gestured gruffly towards the chair on the other side of the table. "I'm sorry, but we don't serve iguanas in here."

The Doctor peered over the table at the chair in question. "Leonard!" he exclaimed. "You, too?"

Haley turned a dazzling smile on the waiter, and touched his arm. "Oh, it's all right," she said. "He's here as a personal guest of Vic's."

The waiter looked Haley over, clearly impressed. "Well, if it's okay with the boss, it's okay with me," he smiled. "You just let me know if you need anything. Anything at all."

"Will do," she said, sweetly, waggling her fingers at him as he left.

"Jerk," Leonard said, to the waiter's retreating back.

"You tell him, Leonard," the Doctor said. As he turned back to Haley, she picked up a cigarette that had been smoldering in an ashtray next to the small lamp on their table. With her wrist bent back in a picturesque way, she lifted it to her lips.

Horrified, the Doctor yanked it out of her hand. "What are you doing?" he asked, vigorously stubbing it out. "Smoking is an unhealthy, disgusting habit!"

Haley blinked. "It's a holographic cigarette," she protested.

"It...well..." the Doctor blustered. "That's irrelevant," he finally blurted out. "It sets a bad example. Besides, it will make your holographic breath smell like an ashtray."

Haley stared at him for a moment, then picked up the ashtray and gave it an experimental sniff. She wrinkled her nose. "I see what you mean," she conceded.

"What's gotten into you?" the Doctor asked. "You seemed like such a sensible person on Jupiter Station."

Haley sighed. "I don't know. I've been watching the people here. The women with the cigarettes looked so sophisticated and sultry. This is all just...incredible. I mean, look at this place! It's wonderful! I've never been out of Lewis' lab. Not once since I was activated - that's almost twelve years!"

"Ah," the Doctor said, finally understanding. He remembered his own first ventures outside of Sickbay fondly.

"But enough about me," she said, smiling and returning her full attention to her companion. "What were we talking about?"

"You were saying that Dr. Zimmerman was sorry he couldn't come in person, something which, frankly, I find difficult to believe. The last time he saw me, he told me I was arrogant and irritable. He also mentioned that I shouldn't expect him to put me in his will."

"Oh, but he did put you in his will!" Haley said. Then, grimacing, she added, "I guess I shouldn't have told you that."

"Well, since you did, what am I getting?" the Doctor asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

She nodded towards Leonard, her eyes twinkling.

The Doctor smiled, and peered over at the sluggish iguana again. "How about that, Leonard?" he said. "At least I'll be a familiar face."

"A familiar face," Leonard said, sagely.

"Seriously," Haley said, sobering, "Lewis is really quite proud of you, although he'd never admit it. He's written several papers about your adaptations and accomplishments in the Delta Quadrant. And he's trying to get the other Mark1's off of the waste barges. He says he gave up the fight too soon, originally."

"We could work together on that!" the Doctor said, with real enthusiasm. He didn't know exactly what he wanted to do in the future, or what he'd even be 'permitted' to do, but holographic rights was still a cause near and dear to his holographic heart. Despite the prickliness of their prior interactions, he liked the idea of fighting this particular battle alongside his creator.

"Count me in, too," Haley said, as if reading his mind.

"Wonderful!" the Doctor said. "How about you, Leonard?"

But Leonard wasn't listening. Instead, he was staring intently at the piano player up on the stage, bobbing his head slowly up and down with to the rhythm of the music.

Vic suddenly appeared, and gave the iguana an approving glance. "He's got the beat," he said. "I should put him to work up there. How's everybody doing?"

"Just fine," the Doctor said. "We were talking about organizing a fight for holographic rights. Do you want in? You're articulate and intelligent - not your ordinary lightbulb. I'm sure you would be more than a suitable spokes-hologram."

Vic tilted his head, considering. "I don't think so," he finally said. "I've never had a problem with rights, so I have no stories to tell. And I think I can do more good right where I am - changing minds one customer at a time."

The Doctor smiled, and nodded. "That's probably true," he said. "The organics won't truly understand our plight until they've gotten to know a few of us."

Haley agreed, too. "I'm sure anyone who comes into this place leaves with a good impression of it, and you," she told Vic. She looked around again, almost wide-eyed with awe. "This is just incredible."

Remembering again how fortunate he'd been in so many ways, the Doctor suddenly had an idea.

"Haley," he said, "How would you like to see the rest of the station? You could use my mobile emitter, and take a look around. The Promenade is really something to see, even for a jaded old space traveler such as myself."

"Could I?" she asked, so excited that she half rose out of her chair. "That would be wonderful! Are you sure you don't mind?"

"Of course not," he said. "As long as you give it back," he added, with a somewhat nervous laugh. Then, because it would be rude not to, he asked, "How about it, Vic? Would you like to 'take a spin,' too?"

Vic chuckled and waved him off. "Not me. I've got everything I need right here. But thanks for the invite, Doc." After glancing up at the stage, he added, "As a matter of fact, I've got a set to do. I'll catch you all later. It was great meeting both of you. And you, too, Lenny."

He left them and strolled up to the stage. Once he stepped into the spotlight, the crowd began to applaud. The Doctor was somewhat relieved, because, if the truth be told, he did mind sharing his mobile emitter. Not with Haley, so much, because she was a friend and colleague, but if he starting lending it to just anybody...well, who knows what might happen. The power grid might go down, and his very existence would depend on strange DS9 holoemitters, bartenders and engineers. He nearly shuddered.

But Haley looked so enthusiastic that he swallowed his reluctance, and, with a few quick taps on the controls of the mobile emitter, downloaded his file into Vic's Place. He removed the emitter, and put it on Haley's arm. "Why don't you take a walk around the station. I'll have Voyager upload me back to my sickbay, and you can join me there in a little while." He leaned onto the table and tried his best to look suave and debonair. "I'd really like to show you...Doc's Place."

She smiled warmly, and as she did, Vic began to sing. It was something about a knife named Mac; the Doctor couldn't quite figure it out. He and Haley watched as people began to congregate on the dance floor.

"That sounds like a perfect plan," Haley said. "But before I go..." She stood up and reached out a hand. "Would you care to dance?"

The Doctor smiled. "I'd love to," he replied.

"I'll answer the door," Tom said, unnecessarily, as it turned out. His mother and his wife were too busy trading pregnancy and childbirth stories while Miral was playing the "I'll jump to her, now let me jump to you" game, alternately squealing and giggling all the while.

"Enter," he called out. The door slid back, to reveal Ro Laren.

"Hasn't that baby been put to bed *yet?*" Ro exclaimed as she stepped inside, to the chorus of hellos from the Paris family.

"Oh, we know we should. She's about to crash any second, but she's so wired from being overtired, we hate to fight with her about it." As if to confirm her father's comment, Miral began rubbing her fingers clumsily over her eyelids.

"Dear, me, Daddy knows best," B'Elanna said, glancing sharply up at her husband.

"Is that another twentieth century 'telly show' joke?" Alicia Paris asked.

"Yes, it is. He's got a million of them."

"More like a thousand," Tom corrected, "but someday, maybe I can get it up there, if only I can find an undiscovered cache of vids..."

"Do you still have that same obsession, Tom?" Ro asked.

"Yes, he does," B'Elanna answered firmly for him, as she took to her feet.

"Oh, my, yes. Internal combustion engines, rock music, 2-D videos...Tom's always loved the twentieth century. I can't imagine living in such a primitive time, but Tom was always prepared to go back to that period." Oblivious to the amused glances her son and daughter-in-law sent each other, Alicia gave her granddaughter another hug and passed her to her mother.

"I don't mind *all* his twentieth century holoprograms," B'Elanna admitted. "The movie theater one is fun. It can be so nice and cozy to cuddle up in the dark, watching a romantic movie...right, Sweetling?" B'Elanna tried to prevent her daughter from squirming her way down to her grandmother, who was slowly getting up from the floor. "Miral really is going to melt down any minute. I really should get her ready for bed."

"May I help you, please? I never get tired of helping give a baby her bath."

"I wasn't planning on giving her another bath, but it might relax her and help her get to sleep, considering how much her routine has been broken today," B'Elanna said.

"Whenever Tommy got overtired I would give him a bath to calm him down, but with Tommy, I also had to..." Alicia's voice trailed off as she followed her daughter-in-law into the Paris family dressing room/bath area.

Shaking her head as they left, Ro collapsed on the sofa next to Tom. "You know, your daughter is going to be spoiled rotten by her grandparents."

"My daughter is already spoiled rotten by everyone on Voyager. She thinks everyone should adore her. And everybody does. Even Vic Fontaine, holographic entertainer, was totally smitten," Tom replied with a grin.

"You're right about that. Vic is always charming, but I haven't seen him gush like that before over anyone," Ro answered.

What he wouldn't give to spend more time in that program! Talk about wallowing in the twentieth century! Tom wondered if he could convince the captain to download a copy into their database...but no, there wasn't much reason to do that. He probably wasn't going to be on Voyager much longer anyway. He sighed a little for the lost opportunity, but to Laren, he said, "Of course, most of the 'dames' walking into his place don't look anything at all like Miral."

"No, that's true. They're a little taller!" Ro laughed.

"Give her a few years, though, and she'll be just as beautiful as any of them." Tom said confidently.

"Not that you're prejudiced, or anything..."

"Not at all. She's gonna be a real 'looker,' just like Vic says! But enough about my spoiled-rotten daughter. What brings you here so late in the evening, Laren?"

"I wanted to speak to you in private about something. I should have called first," Ro said. "I didn't think your mother would still be here."

"No problem. What did you want to speak about?"

Ro hesitated a moment, taking a breath before plunging in. "I've heard you're a full-fledged field medic now, Tom."

"You have need of my expertise?"

"I have a few samples of DNA I'd like compared to those of your crew."

"Is there a reason you want me to handle it, instead of the Doc?"

"No offense to your Doctor, but I know you, Tom. You like to give the impression of someone who is a real blabbermouth, but you can keep your own counsel if you need to. And for various reasons, I don't want this to get out to anyone until there's a need for it to get out-assuming there even is a need."

Tom immediately flashed upon Ro, uncharacteristically staring at Ayala and his son as they were reunited. "This have anything to do with...some missing Maquis family members?"

"It might," she said blandly. In other words, absolutely.

"I'm sure I could slip into Sickbay and run DNA scans...I assume that's what you want me to do, as a field medic."

"You won't even have to. I've got a complete genome report I can upload to you. All you have to do is compare it to the crews' genomes and see if there's a match."

"I can do that. I could probably do that from here."

"Good. I wouldn't want to cut into your family time."

The pang in his heart couldn't quite be suppressed. "No problem," he said, probably a little too quickly, slipping on the Paris mask of unconcern. Laren had always had the disconcerting ability to see right through him, however, that even B'Elanna had needed time to develop. Ro tilted her head and gazed at him shrewdly.

"Okay," she drawled. "So how are *you,* really? I was a little disappointed at first when I heard your father couldn't come. I'm sure it was worse for you."

"Nah, not at all. It's par for the course."

"Oh, please, don't give me that! It had to be a...what did you used to call it? I think Vic says it sometimes-a 'bummer'?"

He was unable to hold back a sigh. "Okay. It was disappointing didn't make it. Of course it was. But it's a fact of Starfleet life. I know it; you know it; we all know it. I'll get over it."

"I hope you mean that, Tom. What your mother said about the admiral being heartbroken when he wasn't able to come-I think that's true. Your mom wouldn't have said that if it wasn't. Maybe getting away now, just when the Pathfinder Project is so close to being completed, *is* impossible for him. Sometimes we should take things at face value, you know?"

"Yeah, sure."

She didn't respond with anything but one of her deep, deliberate stares. It was a cross between B'Elanna's and Janeway's glares.

Tom was not unaffected, although he strove not to show it. "Look, I do mean it. I'll get over it. And if you want me to do that little project you want me to do, I'll need the data file."

Tom was sure she was perfectly aware of why he had suddenly changed the subject, but she said, "All right. I'll take my own advice and take *that* at face value. But I'll listen if you want me to...or better yet, talk to your wife. I'm sure she can pound some sense into you if you need it."

That brought a genuine smile to his face. "You like B'Elanna?"

"Very much. She's almost frighteningly smart-and tough. Despite your taste for the 'dames,' I always thought you couldn't be satisfied with anyone who didn't have a lot more to her than just looks. I'm glad to see I was right."

"I've always had great taste in women."