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

When she turned to Joe, that intensity was even more visible as she punctuated her words to him with the movement of her hands. Whatever the subject of discussion - probably something about Voyager or her engines - B'Elanna was clearly passionate about it. Tom put a hand on her shoulder and she shrugged it away, giving him an irritated look. Tom didn't back away, but said something while young Miral slept on.

John watched the two as they interacted for several seconds, speaking animatedly and then nodding in some sort of agreement. Then B'Elanna turned and resumed her conversation with Joe, who smiled at his colleague with almost brotherly fondness. After her initial greeting to B'Elanna, Anne Carey had resumed studying the crystal display, and the two boys had wandered to the next kiosk, where a variety of items more to their interest were displayed.

John studied his daughter with the all-encompassing greed of someone who'd been exiled for years, even if it had been a self- imposed exile. He heart filled with pride and regret. His little girl had grown into a beautiful, talented woman, surrounded by people who loved her. And he'd had nothing to do with that, except to make it harder for her.

A couple of minutes ago he'd been ready to turn and leave, sure he'd missed the opportunity to meet his daughter with Voyager about to leave. Now, here she was, just a few dozen steps away. There was no reason he couldn't walk those steps and tell her how much he'd missed her, that he'd never stopped loving her, and that he'd do anything to be a part of her life again.

His heart thudded in his chest, and his palms went damp. No reason at all.

Except that she was obviously busy. Involved in a discussion with her fellow engineer, trying to prepare Voyager for its trip to Earth, and, now that he thought about it, probably anxious about her reception from Starfleet. He'd heard the speculation about whether the Maquis on Voyager would be prosecuted. His heart denied the possibility, and he knew from the VFA newsletters that public opinion was strongly against any prosecution. B'Elanna's father-in-law was a high-ranking admiral, one who rumor had was not officially involved in any decision-making, but who surely could wield some influence over the future of his son and daughter-in-law.

Now that he thought about it, this really wasn't the time to add any more tension to B'Elanna's life. It would be better to wait, and let them get everything else settled. Then he would find the right time to approach her -

Something told John he was being watched, and his eyes shifted to find Tom Paris's fixed gaze locked on him. He had no idea how long Tom had been watching him while he'd been focused on B'Elanna, but sheer instinct, honed from a lifetime of avoiding confrontation, prompted him to slip out of sight behind one of the large support beams. He cursed himself immediately for not leaving sooner. Then he cursed himself once again. What the hell was he doing going through another mental list of pathetic rationalizations?

When he'd first left Miral all those years ago, he'd started letters to B'Elanna, but he'd never finished them. He'd initiated subspace calls to her, but he'd disconnected before they could go through. With each month that passed, each year, it got harder and harder to reestablish his connection to his daughter, until he'd convinced himself she wouldn't want him around, and that she was better off without him. He'd let the opportunities repeatedly slip away, while assuring himself he was doing the "right" thing. B'Elanna had seemed to be surviving fine without him, even thriving - winning a variety of engineering honors in school, and being accepted into Starfleet Academy. By the time she'd quit the Academy and drifted into the Maquis, he'd been out of her life so long he told himself it was too late to change anything, even while he was haunted by what his abandonment might have done to her.

John snorted softly with self-disgust. He was sick of justifying his lousy choices, of burying himself in work to forget what he'd done, of denial and self-recriminations. He'd made a promise, and he wasn't going to let himself weasel out of it. If he was going to make things right, he was going to start now.

Resolved, he stepped from behind the support beam, and was startled to find himself face to face with Tom Paris.

"Mister Torres." Tom Paris's voice was soft, his blue eyes cool as they assessed John. "What a surprise to find you here."

John's gaze was drawn to the baby sleeping against Tom's shoulder. He knew his granddaughter was about to turn a year old. He stared, entranced, at the dark lashes brushing her rosy cheeks, her full red lips, and the soft, dark curls framing her face. She looked angelic, and the faint ridges on her forehead only added to her beauty. He spoke distractedly, "Yes, I wanted - "

"To see B'Elanna?" Tom finished for him. "From a distance, before you run away again?"

John frowned. For all he'd heard about Tom Paris's own troubled past, this man was staring at him with a hard and not particularly forgiving expression. But he couldn't fault that, considering the circumstances. John glanced past Tom and saw that B'Elanna was still engrossed in her conversation with Joe Carey. "I did come to see B'Elanna. I heard Voyager was delayed here for repairs, and I thought I could make it before you left for Earth. I should have let B'Elanna know I was coming, but - "

"B'Elanna can probably spare a couple of minutes," Tom said, cutting him off. "Maybe she'll be impressed that you came all this way to see her."

Tom didn't sound as if he thought so, and John didn't expect it. "I didn't come to impress her. I came because..."

Tom's eyebrows rose, waiting for John to finish. At that moment Miral shifted suddenly and whimpered in her sleep. Tom stroked her hair lightly with his free hand as she resettled herself against his shoulder. "S'okay, sweetie," he murmured, his lips pressed to her forehead.

Despite the noise and bustle around them, Miral slipped her thumb into her mouth and immediately stilled, once again asleep. John felt a sudden ache in his chest watching her. She looked just like B'Elanna when she'd been that age. He remembered the feel of holding his own baby daughter, snuggled warmly in his arms, exuding clean baby scent, full of unquestioning trust.

John blinked quickly and looked at Tom. "She's beautiful. She looks like her mother."

There was a flash of pride and affection in Tom's eyes. "For which I'm extremely grateful."

"You obviously love her very much." Both of them, John amended to himself.

"Of course I do. She's my *daughter*."

And he'd never walk away from her, no matter how hard things became. Tom didn't have to say the words; his expression was enough to convey the message to John. "Whatever my weaknesses as a father, I do love B'Elanna. That's never changed. But I don't blame you for hating me."

"I don't hate you," Tom said. Then his lips quirked wryly, the first break in his defensive demeanor. "I'm sure you've heard about my past. I spent a good part of my life destroying my relationships with just about everyone around me. I almost did with B'Elanna, and we barely made it past my hang-ups, and hers. So I'm in no position to judge you."

"Thank you for that."

"Though that doesn't mean I trust you," Tom added, glancing at B'Elanna. John followed his gaze and tensed. She appeared to be finishing her conversation with Joe Carey, and Anne was joining her husband again.

"Look," Tom said, his sharp tone recapturing John's attention. "I don't care about the past. God knows, I have one for the books. What matters is *now.* B'Elanna's managed all these years without you. She has me now, and Miral, and her family from Voyager. Though she might not be immediately receptive, I think she'd eventually welcome a father in her life - a *real* father. What she won't welcome, and I won't welcome, is any half-hearted gestures, or any temporary efforts at salving your conscience. So, either you mean what you said in your letters and during the FTL call, that you're prepared to be in B'Elanna's life, and our daughter's, completely and for good - no ifs, ands or buts - or I want you to leave now and never come back."

John knew in that moment he could turn around and disappear into the crowd, and Tom would never mention that he'd been here. Or he could commit heart and soul to renewing his relationship with B'Elanna, no matter how long it took or how difficult it might be to win her trust and love again, if it ever happened.

That moment seemed to stretch endlessly, between his past and future, between the man John Torres had been and the man he could be. The moment passed and he didn't move. B'Elanna did, and her smile for her husband faded as she spotted the man with him.

John saw Tom tense, not with apprehension but with watchfulness, perhaps ready to step in front of B'Elanna if she took a swing at her father. Or maybe Tom would stand his ground, since John deserved that and more.

When B'Elanna reached them, her expression was composed. Or, as composed as someone with her temperament could make it. Her dark eyes flashed as she spoke. "What are you doing here?"

John couldn't answer for several seconds. She was so close he had to fight the urge to hug her, despite her belligerence. She'd worn that defiance like a shield, even as a child. Once her mutinous expression had filled him with a sense of inadequacy, but now it seemed so dear to him...so B'Elanna. "When I saw on the news vids that Voyager had arrived at Deep Space Nine, I booked passage on an Andorian freighter headed here. The captain charged me double fare for a closet-sized room with a cot, and it was the noisiest ship I've even been on, but at least it got me here. Better..."

John paused. He'd been about to blithely say "Better late than never" but B'Elanna probably didn't see it that way right now. He'd intended to state his case and speak from his heart when he faced her again. Instead, his nervousness had prompted inane conversation to come out of his mouth.

B'Elanna finally spoke, breaking the awkward silence. "We leave in three hours, and we have to get back to the ship. Looks like you wasted your time."

Her tone was dismissive, but John wasn't deterred. "I know we'll have to wait for a real talk until you're back on Earth - "

"There will be a lot of ceremonies, and briefings, and...other things."

"I can make time whenever you're free - "

B'Elanna made a noncommittal sound. "We have to go." She turned and took Miral from Tom's arms, though the baby fussed at being moved. Tom hadn't said anything, and he didn't say anything now. He just watched calmly.

"B'Elanna, I didn't waste my time coming here. I wanted to see you, even if it was only for a couple of minutes. I meant what I said when we spoke three months ago. I want that second chance, even if you regret offering it, and I'm going to take it. I know you need time, and I'll give it to you. But I'm going to be around for good, whether it's here, or on Earth, or wherever you and Tom decide to settle. Industrial engineering is a wide-open field. I'll move, if that's what it takes."

B'Elanna turned back abruptly, her eyes blazing with anger. "Even if I believed you, what makes you think you have the right after all this time?"

She practically snarled those words in his face, any pretense of indifference gone. John hoped that was a good sign. "I don't have any right. I know that. It's ultimately your decision. I don't expect you to believe me right now, but however long it takes you to forgive me, and for us to know each other again, I'll wait."

"Mama?" Miral was awake, aware of her mother's agitation.

B'Elanna visibly calmed herself, and stroked her daughter's cheek until Miral settled her head in the crook of her mother's neck, her eyes wide and focused on John.

John smiled at Miral. He ached to hold her, but he knew that would have to wait. "She's beautiful, B'Elanna." He'd said so during the FTL call, but he said it again. "Just like you've always been."

B'Elanna gave him a smoldering look, her temper now under tenuous control. He'd already told her how proud Miral would have been to know her granddaughter bore her name. He hadn't had time to tell her that he'd talked to her mother when Voyager had disappeared, and again after Starfleet had announced Voyager's safe status in the Delta Quadrant. Despite their past differences, they'd both remained focused on B'Elanna, and her safety. He had a lot to tell his daughter.

"You wanted to stop by Ro's office," B'Elanna said to Tom, avoiding her father's gaze.

"I'll be on Earth when you get there, B'Elanna," John said. He'd find another ship going back and he'd make sure he was there by the time they got finished with the Starfleet ceremonies and briefings, waiting.

B'Elanna looked at him briefly. "Suit yourself," she said with a shrug, then turned and walked away.

It wasn't exactly an invitation, but it wasn't a rejection either. John knew it was the best he would get for now. It was a beginning, and that was enough.

Tom gave John a quick nod. For the first time, a genuine smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and a glimpse of the roguish pilot showed through. "See you on Earth."

John watched as Tom caught up to B'Elanna, resting his hand lightly on her back. It was a natural gesture, but a protective one. He'd heard the popular theory that their relationship was a tempestuous one, and that they'd had a volatile courtship. Tom had implied as much, and John didn't doubt it. Tom had also implied he wasn't like John, and that John didn't doubt either.

He'd never been good at confrontation, and the truth was, he and Miral hadn't been suited to each other. She'd been too strong- willed, and he'd been too weak-willed. He didn't sense any lack of will in Tom Paris. Whatever the mistakes or regrets in his past, however difficult it had been to turn his life around, it was clear that Tom had chosen his path this time, and was embracing it. John had always let himself be dragged along, first by his youthful emotions, and then by whatever was easiest, whether it was deferring to Miral, or running and never looking back.

He regretted that, especially the way he'd walked out on Miral and B'Elanna, severing every tie, as if that would also sever his feelings, his mistakes, and his weaknesses that had contributed to a failed marriage. Instead, in abandoning his daughter he'd cut off a part of himself. He'd learned his lessons too late, but he suspected Tom had learned them in time.

He wondered if B'Elanna knew as well that Tom would never walk out on his little girl in a million years. He hoped his own example didn't live as doubt in her mind.

As if she sensed his attention on her, B'Elanna glanced back just as she and Tom exited the Promenade. It was a quick glance, and she turned away the moment their eyes met, disappearing down the corridor. John suspected it was an involuntary action, and she was probably kicking herself for looking to see if he was still here. He knew it would be a long time before she'd trust that he would be.

His emotions were caught between relief, joy, and trepidation, but mostly he felt joy. B'Elanna, his little girl, was okay. Better than okay.

"She's doing great, Miral. You'd be so proud of her." John spoke in a low voice, ignoring the curious looks as people passed by, watching him talking to empty air. "She's not just alive, she's living her life unafraid, taking everything offered to her, including love. She's found true honor. And your granddaughter is beautiful. You'd probably even tolerate Tom Paris, because he loves them both without reservation, and he'd stand up to you."

He smiled. Miral had always admired that in a person, even in her own daughter, when she wasn't exasperated with her. "I know I failed B'Elanna once, but I won't fail her again, or our granddaughter. This time, I'll keep my promise. So, you can get on with your afterlife, and swing your bat'leth all over Sto-Vo-Kor with abandon. I'll be here to watch after them."

"Excuse me!"

John looked at the young Bajoran woman rushing toward him, her eyes alight with curiosity.

"I saw you talking to the couple from Voyager a minute ago. Tom Paris and B'Elanna Torres. Do you know them?"

Her voice was eager, as if she sensed a scoop in the making. He hated to disappoint her, but he didn't give out information to reporters, not even when they were pretty. "Sorry, I don't know them. I was just wishing them a good trip home."

She clearly was disappointed. "Oh. I thought maybe...well, thanks, anyway."

He watched her move away, glad that she was inexperienced enough to give up so easily. And he hadn't lied to her. He didn't really know Tom, or his daughter, B'Elanna, anymore. But he would.

Smiling, and feeling pleased with himself for the first time in a long while, John slung his duffel over his shoulder and went in search for a ship to take him back to Earth.

"Admiral Nechayev for you, sir," Commander Riker announced.

"I'll take it in my ready room," Picard acknowledged, exchanging faintly amused glances with his first officer and Counselor Troi. Will had sworn they'd hear from her within the hour, as soon as their new course was known, and the Enterprise, accompanied by Voyager and the Defiant, had left Deep Space Nine barely forty minutes ago.

Slowly, Picard walked to his desk in his ready room. He deliberately sat down before opening the channel. "Admiral Nechayev, to what do I owe the pleasure of this communication?" he asked smoothly.

::Jean-Luc, you know very well you were expected to proceed immediately to Earth after rejoining the Enterprise on Deep Space Nine.::

"We are returning to Earth, Admiral."

::Not directly. Your course has deviated considerably from what was anticipated.::

"My orders did not specify any particular route."

::It was certainly implicit in those orders for you to take the most expeditious route possible, since you were asked to leave as soon as you rejoined your ship at Deep Space Nine!::

"The arrival time of the Enterprise and Voyager to the Earth system will not be compromised in any way by this very slight course change. A negligible increase in our average warp speed is all that will be required to make up lost time."

::What about the stopover at your intermediate destination?::

"We will be there an hour, perhaps two, at most. Captain Janeway has asked for the opportunity to hold a short memorial service at a gravesite on Jelzin II..."

::A planet which is interdicted because of its pre-warp culture.::

"The damage to that culture appears to have already been done by the Dominion during their attack of several years ago," Picard pointed out. "In any case, there will be no further cultural contamination. The gravesite is nowhere near where any of that population lives, and we will depart as soon as the service is over."

::Voyager has been in the vicinity of Jelzin for almost two weeks. Why didn't they hold this service long ago?:: Nechayev asked rather waspishly.

"The fact that the body of Ayala Marit was among those interred at the cairn on Jelzin II was not known either to Captain Janeway or Michael Ayala until yesterday evening. They could not reasonably be expected to make a trip before knowing it was something they would wish to do. I'm sure they would have been happy to have done so, had they known, even if only because they'd become rather bored by the charms of Deep Space Nine for the past week or so, since their ship had been repaired but they were not given leave to return to Earth." After a slight pause, he added blandly, "Surely they hadn't needed to wait for my presence to find the proper heading for the last leg of their trip home, considering how far they'd managed to come on their own. And were more than ready for something else to do."

Nechayev stared stonily back at him.

"Besides which...Permission to speak freely, Admiral?" It was rather late to ask for this after his previous statement, but he knew he'd pushed her quite far enough already.

::Granted.::

"I find it difficult to believe you would have been any happier about Voyager taking such a sidetrip a week ago than you are now. It was my understanding that Voyager has been held within the Bajoran system on your personal orders for the past two weeks."

She pursed her lips tightly before replying, but since she'd given him leave to speak, she chose to refrain from taking umbrage at his comment. ::This is a volatile situation, Jean-Luc; you know that. The consequences of any action regarding Voyager required careful deliberation. And as far as your 'side trip' goes-while I can understand why Ayala would want to go to where his wife's body is at rest, why did the entire crew of Voyager have to go along with him?::

"Any starship crew which serves together for a long period of time forms a sort of extended family. It's a well-established phenomenon. When one considers the extraordinary journey of Voyager, as well as the personalities of its captain and crew, how much more powerful must be the bond between them! The entire Voyager crew felt the need to offer their support to Mr. Ayala in his time of mourning, not only because of his grief when his worst fears for his wife were confirmed, but also because of their own. The entire crew of Voyager is in mourning for a way of life developed over the past eight years, a community which will be shattered by their return to a less isolated, more ordinary existence. When Captain Janeway explained it all to me, allowing the gathering appeared to be the only rational course."

::So you approve of this memorial service?::

"Having heard the whole story, yes, I do. I would not have given permission, of course, if everyone on Voyager-Starfleet crew, the Maquis, and the Equinox survivors alike-would be free to return to this place together as a group to hold one in the near future, after Voyager's triumphant welcome home. Given the nature of the discussions I was privy to while I was on Earth, I did not assume this likely to happen. Was I in error?"

Nechayev gritted her teeth. ::Your compassion is commendable, Jean-Luc, but if the media should get wind of this, we will have a 'situation' on our hands, according to Commander Craig. And since Captain Janeway did little to help control the press on Deep Space Nine, it could turn into a very *messy* situation.::

"When the media is denied a story, they find another any way they can-even if they have to manufacture one. We've seen a perfect illustration of that on Deep Space Nine over the past several days. In this instance, the media has been handed a bittersweet family reunion story, with a Bajoran connection that Colonel Kira will be most eager to use to her advantage. I suggest it may be far better for everyone concerned for the story of a reunited father and his sons to be the one spread by the media, rather than some of the sensational and scurrilous tales they've been publishing. If nothing else, allowing the service to proceed, under these circumstances, is excellent public relations."