Child swim classes were over (along with the panic of water splashed in the face), and somehow Elle found herself volunteered for daycare.

She stared at the toddler in Keiko's arms. "I don't do the baby thing."

"You do now," Keiko said firmly, passing the toddler to her. "I have to teach poison plant identification to the five-to-eight-year-olds, and I can't be in two places at once, please Elle?"

Elle sighed. "Fine."

"Excellent. Don't worry, the other caretakers are in there, go on." Keiko waved and left.

Elle looked at the toddler. The toddler, of indeterminate Bolian gender, grabbed Elle's ponytail. "Hello," Elle said warily.

"Hi," the child chirped, chubby fingers already tangled in her hair.

"Let's go find the teachers, okay?"

The infant daycare was carefully controlled chaos. Two childcare specialists, two civilian moms who worked in daycare, and two volunteers. Lt. Rista was one, Elle was the other. There were twelve gremlins total, from one month in age to five years old.

"We're outnumbered," Elle realized bleakly.

"Down," the Bolian toddler requested.

Elle put them down and watched them toddle over to a pile of blocks.

One of the caretakers waved her over. "Elle, thank you for volunteering. If you could replicate snack set number four and bring a stack of towelettes, thank you."

Run the replicator: Elle could do that.

Snack set number four was assorted fruit cubes and pouches of juice. And for the record, it took two stacks of wipes to mitigate the damage. Elle finally finished wiping down the short tables when a baby's cry split the quiet atmosphere.

Lyssa, the senior caretaker, scooped the baby into her arms. "Oh I know, I know, life is very difficult right now, isn't it?"

The baby cried louder.

Elle poked at Lt. Rista. "What's wrong with her?"

Lt. Rista sighed. "Ahni is part-Betazoid. She's both empathic and telepathic-leaning, so any upsets upset her. And James, the other infant, is teething, which creates a, ah, feedback loop of sorts."

"Oh." Elle winced as James began to cry.

Lyssa winced as Ahni let out a particularly shrill cry. "Okay, okay, if we can get more gum-numbers for James, and Elle, if you could hold Ahni for a second, please, I desperately need a coffee if she's gonna cry all day again."

All day? "No, wait-"

"It's okay, she's not in pain, you won't hurt her," Lyssa promised, and placed the squalling baby empath in Elle's cringing embrace.

The crying stopped. Ahni blinked up at Elle, boogery but quiet.

"Um." Elle looked up at Lyssa. "What do I do?"

"Praise the Great Bird," Lyssa whispered. "Just stay calm. Babies can sense emotional states and that goes double for Betazoids. Just stay calm."

"Okay. I can do that." Elle stood there, holding the baby, as Lyssa and one of the other moms, Hasana, ran around settling the other babies. Elle looked down at Ahni, adjusting her grip. "Hi."

Ahni cooed and stuffed a fist in her tiny mouth, gazing up at Elle with dark, fathomless eyes. She reached up with a slobbery fist and grabbed Elle's hair.

"Ow. Please don't."

Ahni let go.

"Thank you."

Lyssa approached. "All right. We can settle her on this playmat, she likes the shapes..." she started to lift Ahni from Elle's arms.

Ahni shrieked and wriggled like live gagh.

Lyssa let go and Ahni buried her face in Elle's sweatshirt, covering it in baby slime. "Huh. Looks like we found your designated charge."

Elle sighed. "Please no."

They tested it. Anyone else holding her resulted in extreme displeasure of the banshee variety. Even if Elle was upset - which she was, because being in charge of a four-month-old and changing a poopy diaper was upsetting, thank you very much - Ahni didn't seem to react to it.

"Are you a telepath, Elle?" Lyssa asked. "Part Vulcan, maybe?"

Elle shifted Ahni to her other arm. "No. I am kind of sensitive on the esper scale, enough to have training."

"She must be sensing your mental order. She feels safe with you then." Lyssa gave her a coaxing smile. "Could you volunteer to work with her, at least until James finishes teething?"

Elle looked down at Ahni. The baby met her gaze, smiled and burbled, reaching up to grab Elle's nose. A warm light, fluttery as a moth, brushed against Elle's awareness. Elle smiled in spite of herself. "Sure."

-/\-

"Hi captain." Elle slid into the seat across from him. "I spent all morning dredging up everything I could remember about the Preservers."

Picard smiled at her and took a sip of tea. "I'm very curious as to the whole story regarding the Earth-origin..." he paused. Blinked. "Elle."

She smothered a grin. "Yes captain?"

"Why are you wearing a baby."

"I was cold," she deadpanned. She sipped her tea and adjusted the wrap supporting Ahni's little head.

"We have sweaters," he replied, eyeing the baby like it was a live bomb.

"She's asleep, it's fine."

"Yes but why is she not in the daycare?"

Elle grimaced. "Ah. Well. Because if I put her down she cries."

"And why is this particular child different from other children?" he inquired.

"She's part-Betazoid."

"Ah."

Elle grinned at him. "You know I'd bet she likes you too, captain, you have a very orderly mind."

The gaze he turned towards her was so full of terror Elle couldn't handle it. She cracked up, desperately trying not to jostle the baby.

He scowled at her.

Elle snickered helplessly. "Should I just tell you about the Preservers?"

"If you please."

Sometime in between Native Americans and genetically-engineered superhumans, Ahni woke up. The baby was content to prop herself up in the baby wrap and switch her gaze from Elle to Picard, burbling periodically.

Elle gave Ahni her rubber chewing toy, and Ahni shoved it wholesale into the toothless gaping maw of slobber.

"Ahbababa," Ahni said, in an authoritative tone, regarding space Christianity.

"Quite," the captain replied. His eyes were fond as he gazed at his smallest crewmember. "I remember Wesley at that age. He drooled absolutely everywhere. Beverly took to carrying baby cloths like tissues."

Elle grinned. "Was he cute? Do you have any pictures? Possibly in incriminatingly adorable outfits?"

"I might have," Picard said, poker-faced.

The clock struck 'snack-time' a few moments later and Elle stood. "Well, that's our cue. I have to take Ahni back to daycare, there's a bottle with her name on it."

Ahni babbled a solemn agreement.

Picard smiled. "Thank you for the enlightening ramble," he said, and waved bye-bye to Ahni.

Ahni, excited, waved her own fist and bonked herself in the head.

Picard smothered a grin.

-/\-

"A little bird told me that you wanted to learn to play poker." Riker dropped into the seat in front of her, grinning expectantly.

Elle peered up at him. "Wha-" She closed the mystery novel and focused on Commander Riker. "I know how to play poker."

"You wear your expressions on your sleeve," Riker said. "Like a neon banner."

Elle groaned. "Oh, this is payback for the baby, isn't it? Did the captain mention this?"

Riker looked exceedingly shifty. "He may have. What baby?"

"I was babysitting, the captain didn't shoot it out an airlock, there was a whole thing." Elle waved a hand. "Moving on. I know how to play poker."

"Ah, but do you know how to play well?"

Elle raised an eyebrow. "Well..."

Riker chivvied her along to a rec room, where all the game tables were. "All right, you and me, the basics. Then we'll invite other people to test your skills."

"Okay, okay, fine." She sat down, watched him deal, and looked at her cards. She smiled.

"Elle!"

"What!"

He huffed an exasperated sigh. "It's called a poker face for a reason!"

"Right. Sorry." She looked at her cards again and moved them around, scowling furiously. "Is that better?"

Riker sighed and dragged a hand down his face. "Sure. Okay. Do you know how to bet?"

"What are we betting?" she asked.

He produced a bag full of chocolate coins. "Money," he deadpanned, giving her half the pile.

"Cute." She counted out coins. "Uh, twenty."

He eyed her suspiciously.

-/\-

"I call." Riker laid down his cards. A straight flush. He raised his eyebrows in challenge.

Elle smiled and put her cards down. "I believe this is called a royal flush?"

He gaped at her.

She maintained eye contact, grinning, as she pulled all the chocolate coins over to her side of the table.

"Beginner's luck," Riker stated firmly.

Elle unwrapped a chocolate coin and bit into it. "I mean, probably." She finished off the coin. "If I get pimples from this I'm ratting you out to Dr. Crusher."

"Fine." He pulled out a box of actual poker chips. "Just for chips this time, not anything real."

Elle sighed. "But I already know how to play."

"To bluff," he said firmly. "You have a handle on the strategy, you need to hold your poker face."

She stared at him, outraged. "Did you let me win?"

"No," he replied, after a pause. "Those were Deanna's, I'm now under threat for my life."

She sniggered. "Shouldn't have raised."

"Again," he said firmly, and shuffled the cards.

-/\-

"Card."

A pause.

"Ten."

"Twenty."

-/\-

"Fifty, and twenty on top of that."

Riker eyed the pile of chips on the table, and looked down at his hand, and shook his head. "I'm out." He put his cards down. "I had three of a kind, what'd you have?"

Elle put her cards down. "These guys."

He glanced at her cards and his eyes bugged out. "Two pair? You bet me three hundred chips on a pair of threes?"

She snickered and ate another candy. "Uh-huh. All the cards were terrible."

"But you-" he flapped a hand, incoherent.

She gave him a slow, easy smile. "Look, Spock, Scotty, and Chekov taught me to play poker. For math lessons, actually. Captain Kirk was the one who taught me to bluff."

He stared at her, chagrined. "I could have sworn you were holding a better hand."

She grinned at him. "I've been held hostage a lot of times, Commander. I know how to project body language."

"Well, that'll teach me," he said ruefully. "I didn't let you win but I did go easy on you. I'm not doing that again."

"Good."

He grinned at her, an idea lighting up his eyes. "Hey, you wanna play with the others? Everyone's off shift. We could have a couple rounds, fleece a couple holodeck reservations out of unsuspecting officers."

Elle grinned. "I could always do with more holodeck time."

"Excellent." Riker tapped his comm. "Riker to the poker gang. Game night? Rec Room 5A."

One by one, they confirmed.

When Dr. Crusher replied back with a, "Sounds good, on my way," Elle leaned over and poked at Riker's comm.

"And bring the captain with you, I was promised baby pictures!"

Dr. Crusher's laugh was audible. "Acknowledged."

"He won't come," Riker said, cheerfully shoving Elle off his arm. "We invited him a few times but he thinks its beneath his captainly dignity."

"What a horrible thing to say about your captain," Elle said, gasping in embellished shock. "But you're underestimating Dr. Crusher's influence on him."

"I don't know..."

"Look, if 'I'll-Die-Alone' Kirk can be convinced to hang out, 'Stiff-Upper-Lip' will be convinced," Elle pointed out. "Speaking of which that's very British of him. If I point it out, do you think he'd be mortally offended?"

Riker regarded her with fond amusement. "I think," he said, "you should go get some more chairs. And hide your chocolate."

"You're no fun."

"Lies and slander," he retorted.

When Dr. Crusher arrived with Captain Picard in tow, both of them in actual civilian clothes, Elle shot Riker a pointed look.

He rolled his eyes at her and turned a grin to his captain. "Captain, good to see you came. Have a seat. Beer?"

Elle poked her head up from arranging the snack bowls. "Do I get a-"

"No," the three adults chorused.

Elle sighed. "It's gross anyway."

-/\-

On second thought, playing poker with a flirt, a starship captain, an empath, an android, a man with a VISOR, a Klingon, and a mom... was not one of Elle's brightest ideas.

She didn't win any coveted holodeck time, but she didn't lose any, either. "Is my poker face up to your standards, captain?" she asked Picard, grinning.

"It is acceptable," he said fondly. He handed her a data stick. "Also, here."

"What's that?" Geordi asked.

Elle pocketed it with an evil grin.

-/\-

"Come in."

Elle entered Data's quarters and paused. "...you have so many screens in here."

"I am working on a project," Data said, glancing around at the six holo-desks crammed into his living room.

When no long-winded explanation followed, Elle frowned curiously. "Is it a secret?"

"No," Data said, "but the project is not at a point where I have enough information to share."

Elle glanced around, and caught sight of a schematic of a human nervous system. "Data," she said slowly, "are you creating a child?"

He stared at her, caught. "How did you know?" He lit up. "Is this an episode? Do I succeed... what are they like?"

Elle grimaced. "Uhhh, there's, maybe you should sit down." She ushered him to the edge of the nearest desk and leaned on the edge of it. "Hi."

"Hello." He clasped his hands in front of him. "Your reluctance to recount the episode fills me with what I believe is called trepidation."

"Sorry. Don't panic, because I think you have the missing piece in the emotion chip, but, uh, the first time around, if you hadn't have gotten the emotion chip and known how it works..."

He blinked rapidly, processing possible outcomes. His face fell. "I would not have known that I already possessed emotions but not the means to process them on a biologically-human level." He blanched. "My offspring would have suffered complete cascade failure without a means to process their emotions."

Elle nodded. "Yup."

"I..." He stared down at his hands. "Did they die?"

"In the episode, yes," Elle said gently, and had the horrible privilege to watch Data's face crumple with sadness. She hugged him. "But Data, this isn't an episode, this is real life. You don't have to create Lal by yourself, you have whole teams of people who can help you."

"Dr. Soong created me by himself," Data said stubbornly.

"Not true," Elle replied. "He had help, and he had a partner. And he made Lore, who is unfortunately stuffed with wasps on a psychological level, before he even made you. You don't have to single-dad it, you know."

"You called them Lal," Data said.

Elle blushed. "Oops. Spoilers?"

"I like that name."

"Good, cuz, you chose it." Elle nudged his shoulder with hers. "I think instead of keeping it a secret you might want to talk to some people. We just networked with like a hundred cybernetics people."

Data nodded slowly. "Most parents do not create their children by committee."

Elle stifled a giggle. "Well, most parents already have the blueprint encoded. They don't have to put much thought into the process."

"True." He sighed. "I suppose this will take longer than I thought."

"You've got time," Elle assured him. "And it's not like androids go through menopause so you've got plenty of time." She smiled faintly. "And you could always adopt, you know."

"I do not think I could parent a biological sentient," Data said doubtfully.

"You parent Wesley," Elle retorted. "And Spot. Where is your devil cat anyway?"

Data sighed again. "Spot has decided her favorite napping spot is the bathtub."

"Ah."

Data visibly refocused. "What was your original purpose in coming here?" he inquired.

Elle held out an envelope. "You have been formally invited to Keiko and Miles' wedding as the father of the bride," she said in her best British butler accent. "They finally picked a date." She grinned. "You're a dad, after all."

He gave a small smile. "I suppose so."

-/\-

Geordi swooped over to her in Ten Forward later. "What did you tell him?" he demanded.

Elle almost dropped her data pad in her spaghetti. "Ah! What?"

"Why did you tell Data he couldn't have kids?!" He dropped into the chair opposite her, ears steaming with righteous rage.

Ele took another bite of spaghetti. "I didn't tell him that. I contemplated doing it before he figured out the missing piece, any kid he'd make would have died. And I told him to tell you that he was thinking of being a parent so you could help him. You're welcome."

Geordi stared at her. "Oh."

She took another bite of spaghetti. "Are you going to help him?"

"Of course!"

"Cool."

Geordi fidgeted. "Sorry for startling you."

Elle shrugged. "Besties fight for each other. No harm, no foul." She took another bite of spaghetti. "Are you going to throw a baby shower?"

He started to grin. "That sounds like an excellent idea. Maybe once he's further along in the process."

"Third trimester," Elle agreed. "Relatively."

-/\-

A snapshot, two days later:

"What are those." Wesley, in the doorway, aghast.

A wicked grin. "Pictures of a very fat, very roly-poly baby. Eating bananas, I think." A swipe to the left produced a picture of this same chubby bebe in a tiny Star Fleet onesie.

"How did you get those!?" There may have been the crack of an overtaxed vocal chord, imitating the sliding whistle of a flute.

An evil grin. "Your mom isn't the only one who has a holocamera, you know."

A betrayed shriek. "Ugh! No, no, relationship revoked! I'm invoking my veto rights!"

Elle, cackling hysterically.