"Should someone check on them? It's been hours."
"Ensign Kim, should the Captain, Lieutenant Paris, or the Doctor have anything to share with us, they will let us know. There is no logical benefit to our intrusion in this private moment." Chakotay sighed from his chair, the same back and forth between Harry and Tuvok from only an hour ago starting up behind him again. With the repairs to Voyager complete after the brief Kazon takeover that saw most of the crew stranded, the Captain finally going into labor had become the topic on everyone's mind.
Or at least it was the topic at the front of everyone's mind instead of just sitting there in the back.
Since the crew had found out about the Captain and Paris' unexpected Warp 10 souvenir, there was little else that seemed to light up the Voyager grapevine. The lingering divide between Starfleet and Maquis faded away as the crew at first wondered if it really was the flight gone wrong that caused the pregnancy and not some long-term affair between Janeway and her "personal reclamation project". When the Captain began to show less than a month after the "incident", the crew moved on to more idle speculation.
Where would the baby live?
Who would take care of it?
Could Tom handle being a father?
Would the Captain care so much about getting home if she had a family right here?
How many more Voyager babies would their journey end up producing?
What exactly were they going to do with two infants on board when the ship was under attack?
Should people volunteer to babysit?
Slowly, though, it seemed like the tide on the ship switched from malicious gossip to genuine interest and concern. The birth of Naomi Wildman made the intangible a reality, and within two weeks Chakotay had B'Elanna and Harry in his office, ship schematics in hand with a proposal for quarter modifications and a nursery on Deck 3.
"You want to connect the Captain's quarters to the ones next to them?" He'd looked at the pair with confusion, the plans he was looking at showing Janeway's quarters joined to another through a room with doors that only opened inward.
"He won't say anything to either of us, but we know Tom is..." The ensign's words trailed off as he tried to figure out a diplomatic way to voice the rest of the thought, turning to the Chief Engineer for help. The woman looked at him flatly, unimpressed, before she sighed and looked at the Commander.
"Paris is worried Janeway might get all worked up over protocol and keep him from the baby. This way, they both have easy access." Chakotay had wanted to dismiss the idea, but Kathryn Janeway wasn't known for always being easy to deal with. As much as he felt the need to defend her, he also knew that these worries of Tom's weren't entirely without merit.
"I can get her behind the changes to Ensign Wildman's quarters, and probably the nursery, but her quarters?" Chakotay looked between the twosome, watching how Kim seemed to deflate while Torres only seemed to grow more frustrated.
"Let me talk to her." She'd declared, a challenge in her voice. Months later, when he, B'Elanna, and Ensign Hickman were waiting for Voyager to find a cure for the virus that kept them planetside on the planet they dubbed New Earth, he'd asked her what she'd said to the Captain that got her to agree to all the changes.
"I told her what happens when a mother drives away a father." She'd said it with such bitterness and anger lining her voice that he'd backed off for the sake of all of them in that shelter, but Chakotay would never forget the look in the Klingon's eyes.
When Tal Celes had come to him with a request to be reassigned to the soon-to-be-finished nursery, the Commander hadn't quite known how to respond. He'd been aware that she had been struggling, the sort of crewman that wouldn't have lasted past their first posting. Janeway had told him in passing that she'd thought Celes' unconventional thinking had been a trait worth exploring, but their days in the Delta Quadrant had yet to calm to the point where professional growth could be a priority over simply staying alive. This unconventional thinking, though, seemed to come out in force when she began to detail to him all the reasons why childcare would be a good fit for her. She rambled about younger siblings and days spent caring for the war orphans when she wasn't in class. It hadn't hurt her case that Samantha Wildman had written a letter of support for her proposal.
"I hate to say it, but I think you might be doing the ship a service if you say yes, Captain." Chakotay watched as she continued to read over the PADD he'd handed her, her unoccupied hand resting on her growing bump, something he caught her doing more and more. "If we're going to have two infants on board, we need someone who is dedicated to their care and development. Tal has shown an interest in the subject, and reassigning her would probably end up increasing productivity in Astrometrics."
"I'd say I'll think about it," She handed the PADD back to him, a smile on her face. "But it's not like we have many other options to choose from." With both hands now resting on her stomach, Janeway was a picture of maternal serenity, even in the midst of a turbulent ship and uncertain circumstances. It was a look Chakotay was seeing a lot lately, a look that stirred something in him that he felt like he was constantly trying to clamp down on. It didn't do to dwell on things that could never be, he told himself frequently, but his heart never quite seemed to be fully committed to the idea.
"Mr. Kim, what possible value could you provide to the Doctor right now?" Chakotay turned around to look at the Ops officer, curious to hear what answer he'd come up with to give the Vulcan. Under the weight of attention, Harry floundered for a second before finally managing to stammer out a weak comment about nothing before focusing on the panel in front of him, doomed to start the conversation over again in an hour if they hadn't heard anything by then. Chakotay shook his head and turned back to look out at the viewscreen, the open space reminding him of the years of uncertainty that was ahead of every soul on board the ship.
"Do you think they have a name yet?" Chakotay's head dropped against his chest as he sighed, Tuvok already starting to answer with a dismissal.
It was going to be a long shift.
The Captain lay on a biobed in Sickbay, sweat soaking her brow as another contraction ripped through her, pushing her even closer to the brink of exhaustion. Hours of labor were behind her, as were days of work trying to put Voyager back to right after the Kazon takeover that almost saw her giving birth on a primitive planet, the fate of the father of her child and her ship unknown.
The sight of Voyager on the horizon, saving them all from an uncertain, but no doubt dismal, fate, had been one thing, but the lingering moment in her mind was that of Tom standing on the bridge, his eyes full of relief at the sight of her safe and still very much pregnant. It had filled her with emotions she couldn't seem to label, and still left her feeling out of sorts days later.
"Cervical dilation is at 10 cm and I can see the head crowning. You need to push on this next contraction Captain." Groaning, she nodded in understanding of the Doctor's words, falling back against the bed's pillow for a moment of rest. Closing her eyes for a moment, she felt a cool towel pressed against her face, wiping away the sweat gathered on her forehead.
"And you thought Ensign Wildman's 7 hours was a long time for labor. How about 13?" Tom laughed from beside her, setting aside the towel and taking hold of her hands.
"Well, it sure has been more exciting down here than at the helm." Her response was cut off by the tightening of her abdomen and the overwhelming impulse to push she felt coming over her. Lifting up, the laser focus that saw her get through the best and worst command had to offer now centered her completely on the task at hand. The next few moments were a haze, a mix of pure instinct and tunnel vision. She felt Tom's arms holding her up as he said encouraging words in her ear, and she could feel and see the Doctor and Kes working around her, but it was all background noise. The only thing that mattered was the urge to bear down and push.
Finally, with one last burst of effort, she felt a sweet release and a weight lifted from her body. She collapsed back onto the biobed, gasping for air as her head spun. Tom's grip on her tightened as tears of joy filled his eyes, and Kathryn let out a breath of relief.
"Congratulations, Captain, Lieutenant. It's a healthy baby girl," the Doctor announced, holding up the squirming infant for them to see. The new mother's eyes fluttered open as she turned her head to look at her daughter for the first time. The girl was small, wet, red, and wrinkled, with a shock of hair that stood up in little tufts.
"Oh, she's beautiful Captain," Kes remarked, beaming with joy as she waved a tricorder's probe over the baby, who let out a soft whimper, her small hands flailing as the Doctor wrapped her up in a towel.
"She must not have inherited her looks from her father then." The Doctor drolled out, a smirk on his face. His eyes betrayed his pleasure as he passed the bundle over to the new parents. Tom let out a small chuckle at the joke, but any other reply died quickly in his throat the second he had a good look at his daughter, now held firmly against her mother's chest, the Captain staring down at her with a look of wonder if not disbelief.
As he watched Kathryn lightly trace the outline of their daughter's face, a sense of awe washed over him. For months, he'd been preparing himself for this moment, when the reality of being a father would finally hit him in full force. He'd expected panic, he'd expected to feel so overwhelmed that he'd want to scream and run and fall back into every single bad behavior that had been comfortable and familiar to him over the years. And sure, the weight of the responsibility in front of him was quickly settling on his shoulders, but alongside it came a sense of love and connection.
"I can't believe she's here," Kathryn declared, reverence in her voice and a faint smile on her lips. Her words echoed Tom's thoughts, and he reached out to gently join her hand resting against their daughter, the emotion of the moment making him forget himself and the realities of their positions onboard Voyager.
The worries and uncertainties of their journey through the Delta Quadrant faded into the background, overshadowed by the bond that now connected them as parents. Tom felt a surge of gratitude for the woman in front of him, for her strength and resilience, for the sacrifices she had made to ensure the safety and well-being of this crew and ship and now their child.
Kathryn's gaze softened as she met his eyes, a silent acknowledgment passing between them that, for just a few minutes, all the regulations, rules, and boundaries that normally ordered their existence could fall away. Despite the exhaustion etched into her features, there was a glimmer of contentment that radiated from her.
"I don't even know what to say right now," Tom whispered, his voice barely audible over the hum of the Sickbay equipment. He leaned in closer, pressing a kiss first against the baby's head before quickly grazing them across Kathryn's forehead, knowing that there wasn't anything else he could do that would begin to capture the feelings coursing through his veins. Even without the extra time he'd spent in her presence over these last few months, he'd known that at her core, Kathryn Janeway was a tactile person who conveyed with a touch the emotions and feelings she didn't feel she could ever say. It had occurred to him more than once that their circumstances being what they were, the Captain was mostly stripped of the chance to receive the very touch and care she so easily gave away. Pulling back, he watched her eyes close for a moment, like she was savoring the feeling, before they opened once more, a thin veil of tears glossing over them.
Their tender moment was interrupted by the Doctor's voice, breaking through the haze of emotions that enveloped them. "Captain, Lieutenant, I hate to interrupt, but there are a few more routine procedures we need to complete for both mother and baby."
"He needs to hold her, first," The Captain started, looking first to the Doctor before back to Tom, moving the bundle in her arms towards him. He carefully took their daughter into his arms, cradling her against his chest, and marveled at how he could have had a part in creating something so small and delicate.
"God, she's so tiny." He commented with a laugh, his eyes wet and a lone tear flowing down his cheek.
The Doctor, displaying an uncharacteristic softness, allowed the moment to linger before reminding them of the practicalities at hand. "I assure you, Lieutenant Paris, you'll have plenty of time for bonding. Now, if you could just hand her back to us momentarily, we'll proceed with the necessary exams." Nodding, Tom passed the baby over to Kes, who smiled at him with that peaceful serenity that had, for a while, made him long to be with her and be loved by her, peace something he'd always wanted but never thought himself capable of creating on his own.
Today, he felt like maybe he actually could.
Stepping back against the wall of the surgical bay, Tom watched as the Doctor and Kes moved around the stations and equipment that allowed them to conduct the necessary exams and procedures on both Janeway and the baby. He focused mostly on the child, the sight of his daughter continuing to cause a mixture of emotions—pride, joy, and a touch of apprehension about the future- to wash over him.
As the medical exams continued, Tom glanced over to the Captain, who was now sitting up on the biobed, her eyes fixed on their child, awe and exhaustion still plain on her face. He moved closer to her, wanting to be of some use in something he'd felt very powerless to help with.
"Are you okay?" he whispered, his voice a whisper meant only for her.
Kathryn nodded, a faint smile playing on her lips. "I'm fine," she replied softly, her gaze still fixed on the infant "Just a little tired." Finally looking away from her newest charge, the new mother took in the dazed but happy look of her helmsman. She reached out, gently touching his arm. "And how about you, Tom?" she asked, her voice filled with concern. "How are you feeling?"
Tom managed a smile, though his expression betrayed a hint of weariness beneath his easy-going facade. "It's not every week you save your marooned shipmates just to turn around and have a kid." Janeway let out a small chuckle at his words, her hand reassuringly rubbing against the sleeve of his uniform. "Honestly though? I'm feeling... overwhelmed," he admitted, his voice still low. "But in the best possible way."
Kathryn nodded her head in understanding, her eyes moving back over to the bundle Kes was wrapping up. "It's a lot to take in," she agreed. "But we'll figure it out like we always do." They were stopped from talking further by Kes approaching them, the baby in her arms and the Doctor right behind her.
"Captain, Lieutenant, we've finished with the baby's exam," she said, her eyes twinkling with joy. "Everything looks perfect."
"Yes, all her readings are the ones you'd expect from a healthy newborn human female." The Doctor supplied, Tom's shoulders relaxing slightly at the words. A wave of relief washed over both parents as they let go of the worry in the back of their minds that had lingered since the very beginning that the rather bizarre and scientifically astonishing circumstances of her conception would cause the girl to be born changed or harmed in some way, no matter what the Doctor's scans were showing them.
"Thank you, Doc, Kes," the new father said, his voice filled with gratitude.
The Captain echoed his words, giving both of them a warm smile before turning her attention back to their daughter. "I suppose you're going to want something to eat soon, hmmm Maeve?" A pleased smile spread across Tom's face, a hand reaching out to cup the head of the newly christened girl.
He'd been responsible for the name creeping into the Captain's subconscious. The time Tom had spent in her quarters of late had given him a look into the private side of Kathryn Janeway. Her penchant for ancient texts written out on paper hadn't escaped him, and neither had her interest in her Irish ancestry. When Neelix approached him and Harry one day, asking about the concept of "Mother's Day" that he'd read about in the Terran cultural archives, Tom had felt a pang of sadness for not having heartwarming tales of homemade cards and family breakfast in bed like Harry did.
Guided by misplaced guilt, he'd delved into Voyager's archives. The next morning, a leatherbound copy of the old Irish tale Táin Bó Cúalnge had appeared on the Captain's desk, a simple Mother's Day card lying on top of it.
A few days later, and after several attempts to return the gift, Kathryn has appeared in the doorway of the new adjoining nursery, holding the book open in her hand, clearly having been reading it just moments prior.
"What do you think of the name Maeve?"
Now, staring at the newborn, he struggled to see how any other name could work, and judging by the looks on the Doctor and Kes' faces, they too found the moniker fitting.
"Maeve, from Ancient Earth's first century, pre-Christian Ireland. Meaning "intoxicating" or "she who rules". Also, a legendary warrior queen from mythology. It's a fitting name for a Captain's daughter." The new mother smiled at the EMH's comment, glancing up at Tom to take in his reaction, judging if he really was happy with the name, or if he'd simply felt forced into liking it because of her position. The fear that somehow this was all a situation of abused power and her selfishness forcing a subordinate to take on a responsibility he had no interest in was one Kathryn found herself grappling with more and more the closer the birth approached. Seeing the tired happiness on Tom's face did a lot to placate her nerves, though.
At least for the moment.
Who knew what tomorrow would bring?
At 1532 the ship's log recorded the birth of Maeve Elizabeth Paris to Captain Kathryn Elizabeth Janeway and Lieutenant Thomas Eugene Paris. The Doctor, thorough as he was, left all pertinent medical details in her file, accompanied by a few holoimages he had snapped of the ship's newest passenger and her first meetings with several members of the senior staff.
What he didn't include was the strange readings he'd captured for only a moment on the baby's first scan. They'd been so brief, so blink and you'd miss it, right at the equipment start-up, that once he could find no way to reproduce them, he'd dismissed them as a system error and made a point to have the computer run a diagnostic of itself overnight. There was no way the scans could have been accurate. It was just not possible that the small, newborn child could have the synapses and neural pathways the system showed.
But then again, by all scientific standards, Maeve wasn't possible either.